#muscle man voice MY MOM

[mspaintpetfinder]

now here's the purrbeast

[desire-mona]

[wundrousarts]

Do you think Hawthorne has some sort of connection to Morrigans's wundrous song? I'm not going off on a lot except that the song talks about a son of the morning and that Hawthorne feels like the definition of sunshine. And the fact that Morrigan is an eventide kid and she has something with darkness. (??)

Idk what the song could mean, but maybe it's like a foreshadowing to their dynamic, maybe they'll become enemies or opposites or like kids with a destiny because so far it feels like they're far too buddy buddy. Hawthorne is Morrigan's first friend. And he's her best friend. Like. Help.

Also the song talks about the son of the morning being liked, or well someone who has something good ahead of him, and that reminds me of Hawthorne's promising career in dragon riding. He has a lot ahead of him, and in that snippet of Holliday Wu with Hawthorne she said 'the kids are gonna love him', and I feel like Hawthorne is gonna be super popular and well-liked. (Like maybe that's what the song means with 'up with the sun where the winds are warming', he climbs the social ladder.) Meanwhile Morrigan seems to become more and more unpopular because she's a wundersmith. Like it doesn't matter who Morrigan is, it just matters that she's a wundersmith. And soon she'll go down to where the pale things bite or something. As in she'll be an outcast. Or worse.

But if that's the case, then what could it mean??? What will it lead to?

Can we then connect the two wundrous songs of Morrigan's and Squall's? If Morrigans's song is foreshadowing then what if Squall's song is a warning? Or another foreshadowing? A foreshadowing to what then? Is it a prophecy? Are both prophecies??

Help.

🫠

Oooh this is a great question. I don't think that Morrigan and Hawthorne will find themselves not being friends at any point, because I feel like they've already gone through a lot together and have had each other's backs, so I can't see that ending at any point.

I do love any opportunity to discuss the Nocturne songs though!!

I'm hiding my ramblings on this below the cut, because as a true "spaghetti theorist", I am truly just throwing everything and anything at the wall:

One thing I wonder is if the Morningtide nursery rhyme is derived from Little Crowling, or if both songs are derived from a third same source, or if perhaps they are two songs that existed at the same time. Why does Squall seem to recognize Morrigan's song, and Mog recognize Squall's song?! It haunts me. I wish Wundersmith was adapted so maybe we could hear both songs (because hopefully Little Crowling will be in the movie...?). Maybe as Mog trains with Squall we might learn more!

On Discord awhile ago, I said

they’re not like 1:1 but like “o daughter of night” and “with button black eyes” have the same # of syllables (and are possibly depicting the same thing/idea), and “swoops down into the meadow where the rabbits all hide” and “deep down below where the pale things bite” are similar ideas and maybe even an inversion a bit

and I really think there's something there. Maybe it's playing with who/what is "good" vs "evil"? IDK.

In one of the Garrett interviews (which are my favorite Nevermoor/Jessica Townsend interviews everrrr), there's this bit:

ASTRID: Jessica, back to Ezra Squall. When a Wundersmith calls Wunder they sing something. They sing a tune that means something to them, and we know that Ezra Squall's tune involves the words ‘little crowling, little crowling’. Look, Morrigan Crow. Crow Manor. My question here is obvious. What can you tell me? JESSICA: Actually, I can't tell you anything… but that should give you your answer. ASTRID: Look, I had to try. JESSICA: I can tell you that's a really good intelligent question and it's a good observation. Don't worry, there will be satisfaction there. All I can tell you is that there will be satisfaction.

I hope we learn more about Nocturne songs at some point, because I wonder if Little Crowling has been Squall’s song the whole time, or if it’s a new thing? He calls Mog “little crowling” a few times, so yes there’s definitely a connection there.

You sent this question at a great time because I had asked a question about Nocturne songs during the Q&A and she answered it after you sent this. I asked if there was any reason the Nocturne songs sound similar, or if I was reaching, and (in short) she said:

This is a really good question. I think they probably sound similar because they're both intended to be nursery rhymes. I wrote them as to be nursery rhymes in this world, in Nevermoor. I think you should think about the fact that they both chose nursery rhymes as their songs to call Wunder.

I have many thoughts, but at the same time, it’s so hard to theorize when there’s no info to go off of. I hope we learn more of the verses of Little Crowling at some point— I don’t care if the last verse is too grim to end up in a book!

Some ideas:

— Do Wundersmiths write their own songs? Is this perhaps how Nocturne is mastered?

— Maybe choosing nursery rhymes to summon Wunder could indicate something about their personal relationships with gathering and using Wunder?

—— Are they above Wunder, or below it? Not sure if that's the right wording, but just trying to think about what the dynamic between Wunder and Wundersmith for both Squall and Mog could be.

——— While writing this point I misremembered for a moment and wrote "Summoner and Smith", for which the full phrase is, "Summoned Wunder shows itself to summoner and smith." Are "summoner and smith" both the same person or entity (such as a Wundersmith), as "once it's summoned, any old Wundersmith can see it," or are there people out there that can be a summoner but not a smith, etc.? IDK.

— Maybe Little Crowling is a song encouraging Mog to be evil? We don’t know how long Squall has been keeping tabs on Mog.

— Lots of discussion lately about that one dream and if it could relate to Mog’s mom:

—— Maybe she was singing a song and then Squall sung Little Crowling afterwards

—— Maybe Mog’s mom was singing a happier version of Little Crowling, or it’s a song that Squall twisted.

——— Unrelated: everyone thinks that Mog’s mom must have been nice and caring… imagine if she wasn’t really that kind, LOL

—— I think it would be interesting if Mog’s mom was singing Little Crowling (or a variation of it) because of a reference to a rabbit… perhaps inspired by a certain toy rabbit passed down from mother to daughter? And again the obvious “crowling” and a baby (Morrigan) Crow… 🤔🧐🤨

— Perhaps Little Crowling is an older (anti-?) Wundersmith song. Squall was part of the last generation of Wundersmiths so maybe when he was young people were getting tired of them and the system they are a part of.

—— The “button black eyes” just makes me 🤔 because so far the only two Wundersmiths we know notably have black eyes…

— Also back to rabbits having to stay with their mother to be safe from the crowling… y’know who doesn’t have a mother?? Both Mog and Squall!!

Anyways. I really just took a sliver of your ask and ran with it, lol. We don’t know much about Nocturne songs, especially these particular ones, and I hope we learn more soon. Perhaps by training with Squall, Mog might be able to learn more? More verses and more history and information? I certainly hope so!!

I also have to take a moment to shoutout u/AlexWigg on Reddit, who made these renditions of Morningtide's Child and Little Crowling that I really enjoy.

[gallade-x-treme]

"SAVAGE! SAVAGE! SAVAGE!"

[maxbytes]

wish i could do a Muscle Man voice. it's so iconic.

[sttoru]

⠀ 𝝑𝑒 ⠀⠀ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. you show your husband some affection, thinking you two were alone - only to be interrupted by your son.

tags. dad!toji fushiguro x wife!female reader. fluff, suggestive. mentions of toji developing / having a dad bod. & reader having a mom bod. reader gets called ‘princess, mama (by gumi)’. baby gumi waking up bcs of a nightmare. excuse me - not beta read bcs i was half asleep when writing this rt_t

“tooooji,” you smile as you enter the kitchen. you’ve put megumi to bed - finally - and have the chance to spend some one-on-one time with your dear husband. both of you deserve the rest after a hard day of work.

toji has been putting the dishes back in their designated spots whilst you were away. the dark-haired man turns his head to the side once he feels a pair of arms wrap around his waist. a small grin tugs at his lips, “missed me, princess?”

you roll your eyes. even if years have passed since your marriage, toji has not stopped using that specific nickname for you. he loves calling you ‘princess’, because that’s what you’ll always be to him. in his eyes, at least.

“mhm,” you decide to indulge him. you bury your face into his broad back, feeling the muscles he’s worked so hard on obtaining. after megumi was born, toji did let himself go for a bit, but that is a good sign.

it means he’s content with his life - this peaceful life that he’s settled down for with no regrets. no more being reckless, no more battling for money; he’s now got a family to come back home to after all.

“is the little brat asleep?” toji asks while putting the last dish away. he’s visibly enjoying your warm hands that have slid under his shirt. your skin is so soft to the touch compared to his.

you chuckle and nod to his question. “gumi’s sleeping like a baby,” you rub your husband’s stomach gently, feeling the little bumps of his fading abs. you’re loving his new body - just as much as toji loves yours.

toji turns around to face you, desperately needing to return the favor. he can’t get enough of being with you. his rough hands grab your waist and bring you closer against his body, until your chests are nearly touching. he lowers his head to your neck, “that means i can show my wife how much i love her, yeah?”

you shiver at how toji’s voice turns from soft and gentle to sexual and husky. big hands find their place on your tummy, massaging the loose skin with its stretch marks. you can hear your husband’s breath hitch. “fuck,” toji swallows his spit, his fingers moving to grasp your hips.

toji loves how your hips got wider after you’ve given birth to your child. every change in your body, whether big or small, is completely welcomed by him. your body has blessed toji with a son he loves and he’ll forever be grateful for that fact. the least he can do is take his time to appreciate you.

“so beautiful,” toji sighs as he leaves soft pecks on your neck and throat. his fingers are working their way down to your thighs and ass—not leaving a single patch of skin untouched. his lips eventually find yours and you melt into his embrace.

it’s getting heated and the tension is palpable. toji’s about to lift you into his arms when you catch a glimpse of a short figure in the doorway. your eyes widen and you immediately detach your lips from your husband’s.

toji quickly catches on and sighs. he cocks his head to the left, the sight of his toddler standing at the doorway coming into view. “damn kid,” he whispers, nearly pouting because of the interruption. you playfully slap his bicep—a warning to fix his potty mouth in front of megumi.

“h-hey, gumi,” you say with an awkward giggle, walking towards the child. you fix your shirt in the meantime, straightening the material. you crouch down to megumi’s level and pat his head tenderly, “what happened? why are you out of bed?”

megumi stares up at you with teary eyes. he’s clenching onto his dog plushie, hugging the stuffed animal to his little body. you can easily guess that he’s scared—probably because of a nightmare. he’s been getting those more frequently.

though, instead of explaining himself, megumi searches for answers to something else. he points at his dad who’s leaning against the counter with his arms crossed. the toddler then looks back at you like he’s made some big discovery;

“mama papa kissing!”

you nearly choke on your spit. megumi’s a clever little boy and it shows through his advanced vocabulary. you’re surprised that he’s learnt what that meant already. you try to deny what your child said, “no, uhm, mama and papa were just hugging!”

toji snorts at your half assed excuse. he lazily walks over to you two, hands in his pockets. he bends forwards and looks megumi in the eyes with a huge smirk on his face. “yeah, we were. ‘n you totally ruined it,” he utters without any shame and menacingly sticks his tongue out at the little boy.

you hiss and lightly shove toji—he cannot take anything seriously. you’re trying your best to distract megumi’s attention from what he’s seen his parents do, to what his reason is for waking up.

“did you have a nightmare again?” you coo and pick your son up. he instantly snuggles up to you and presses his face against your chest in search of comfort. you smile and can conclude that your assumptions are right.

you pet megumi’s head whilst softly humming one of his favorite lullabies. toji watches your interaction with his son and his mood softens once more. he silently hugs you from behind—also wrapping an arm around megumi—turning it into a little family group hug.

“y’re all right, buddy,” toji mutters to megumi and the little boy sniffles in response, “mama ‘n papa ‘re right here.”

after a couple minutes, you carry megumi back to his room before putting him down in his bed. your husband stands next to you as you make sure your kid is tucked in properly.

megumi stares up at you with a sniff and you nearly melt at the adorable sight. you brush his bangs out of his eyes and kiss his forehead, wishing him a good night. the toddler nods and hugs his plushie to his chest again, still a bit shaken up from the nightmare. however, he’s doing a lot better after he got comforted by both his parents.

“sweet dreams, gumi,” you whisper and rub megumi’s cheeks with a fond smile on your lips. toji simply stares at you conversing with megumi—his face showing little to no emotion. though, from within, toji is absolutely in awe at your motherly personality. you’re the perfect mother.

megumi gets drowsy and tosses onto his side so he could be more comfortable. he struggles to open his eyes, but manages to look at toji. the little boy pouts and points another finger at his dad, this time drowsily warning him, “papa no kiss mama, ‘kay?”

that comment catches you off guard. you’re embarrassed by the fact that megumi still remembers what he’s seen in the kitchen. you try to clear your throat and explain yourself, but toji’s one step ahead of you. he silently mimics megumi’s words and rolls his eyes—

“yeah yeah, whatever. i won’t,” toji promises his son. the toddler clearly inherited your husband’s protectiveness. you chuckle at the playfulness between the two, enjoying the jokey banter the father-son duo have each time.

megumi huffs in victory and nods. he can sleep in peace now, knowing his dad won’t try anything funny with you. he closes his weary eyes and is asleep within just a few seconds.

you stretch your arms and sigh in content. you can’t help but chuckle once you notice how megumi’s fallen asleep with a tiny smile on his lips. you give the child one last forehead kiss before leaving the room in silence.

toji follows right behind you. now that his son is sound asleep, he doesn’t have to keep his promise. technically— he wasn’t planning to anyway.

“c’mere,” your husband mumbles and grabs your hand. he pulls you into a tight hug, hands instantly roaming your body which he admires so much. he plants his lips onto yours not a second later.

you smile into the kiss, finding it funny how toji couldn’t keep his (fake) promise for even one second. he would die if he actually couldn’t kiss you, and that isn’t even an exaggeration.

toji pulls back after a moment and smirks at you—those bedroom eyes of his very telling.

“so, where were we?”

[fairy-angel222]

𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐓 𝐅𝐔𝐂𝐊 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𐙚˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩

—your boyfriend does not appreciate you, but his uncle toji does.

pairing: toji x fem! reader

content: smut, cheating, unprotected sex, choking, petnames, praise, a little degradation, toji’s hot ass has tattoos, belly bulge, cumming inside you

You couldn’t really pinpoint when things went wrong. When your boyfriend just lost interest in you. You couldn’t even date back the last time you had been fucked. Simply turning his body when you tried to start something, or using the excuse that he wasn’t in his mood and that you needed to stop being so needy.

But how could you? You just needed to feel something. Anything. You were so tired of using your fingers when he left for work. Or the shower head on your clit when you showered alone, which was now always.

Your relationship was failing, but you couldn’t find it in you to break up with him.

You were quite confused when your boyfriend invited you over for a dinner at his parents. Getting to meet all his family as he introduced you with a wide smile, hands on the small of your back to guide you from person to person.

There was somebody who stuck out like a sore thumb. And you couldn’t take your eyes off of the man was probably twice your age and most definitely twice your size. Tall, broad and muscular with tattoos of all shapes and sizes trailing down his neck and onto his toned arms.

You swallowed hard, ignoring the heat you felt in between your legs as you ogled the greek god infront of you. With his messy black hair and dark eyes, a smirk spread across his handsome face as he tilted his head to stare you down. Hands in his pockets as he strolled towards you, your hand gripping your boyfriend’s shirt as you felt yourself getting smaller and smaller under his gaze.

“Now who’s this pretty thing?” The deep voice questioned, looking down at you with the subtle bite of his lip as he let his gaze run over your figure. “You’re not gonna introduce your lil ole uncle to your girlfriend?”

Your boyfriend scoffed, rolling his eyes and pulling you closer into him. “I have no need to. Now beat it.”

You frowned at his harsh tone. Toji’s hands raising in defense as he chuckled. “Just trynna be nice.” His smirk widening when he turned to face you fully. “Now, what’s your name doll?”

Your knees grew weak at the deep rasp of his voice, avoiding eye contact when you felt yourself face getting hot. “uh.. y/n, my name’s y/n.”

Toji hummed, grabbing hold of your hand and bending down to place a kiss to the back of it. “Pretty name for a pretty girl.” He winked.

“Okay that’s enough. You can go now.” Your boyfriend fumed, your eyes never leaving the older man’s as he took his leave, leaving you with a short. “Nice to meet ya, doll” before he walked away.

“We’re leaving.”

Your eyes widened at your boyfriend’s words. “What? Baby why? Your family seems so nice we can’t just leave.” You tried to convince him.

“We can when you’re looking at my fucking uncle like he’s a five course meal.”

You resisted the urge to scoff, maybe you wouldn’t have to if he did what he was supposed to. “I promise you, i wasn’t. Now let’s at least enjoy an hour for dinner before we leave. Okay?”

Your boyfriend only scoffing before shrugging your arm off of him and walking away into the kitchen.

Great. This was just what you needed.

The dinner was awkward for you. Your boyfriend wouldn’t talk to you and kept glaring at his uncle. Who only added fuel to the fire by sending short smirks your way, his muscles flexing as he ate.

You couldn’t help the way your face flushed, fidgeting with the food in your plate as you bit down on your lip.

“Y/n, dear? Are you okay?” your boyfriend’s mother asked in genuine concern. “You have barely touched your food honey.”

You gave her a smile. “Sorry, i’m just feeling a little sick right now.”

“Oh dear, would you like to go to the bathroom? Darling, show her the way.” his mom insisted. Your boyfriend not even sparing you a glance when he spoke, “I’m sure she knows the way, mom.”

You sighed, a piece of you missing the relationship you once had. Giving a tight lipped smile and assuring her that you knew the way before getting out of your seat and heading to the nearest bathroom.

You stood staring at yourself in the mirror, rubbing at the bridge of your nose while telling yourself to get your act together. You gasped when the door swung open. A smirking Toji closing the door behind him and leaning onto it, his hands crossed over his chest as he looked you in the eyes.

“You know, for a girl pretty like you, you sure are stupid.” He laughed, “Don’t you see you deserve better than my scumbag of a nephew?” Closing the gap between you two until you were backed up against the sink’s counter.

Toji’s hand reached up to stroke gently under your cheek, trailing his finger across your lip as he bent his neck to look down at you. In turn looking up at him through your lashes when his other hand held onto your waist.

“You gotta know how a real man treats a lady. How a real man fucks. You want that doll?” Waiting for your shy nod of approval before sitting you on the cool marble top. Your legs hooked around his waist and your hands gripping the counter’s edge when his rough lips met yours. Kissing you hard before trailing soft bites down your neck, careful enough to not leave any marks.

You let out a moan, Toji’s hands moving to peel off his shirt so his rock hard abs were on display. Grinding lightly onto the hard surface with a whimper at the full sight of black ink spread across his pale skin. A grin on his face when he went back to attacking your neck, hand slipping under your dress and pressing against the heat of your panties.

“This wet for me already? I’m flattered.” His fingers making their way to rub between your folds through the side of the fabric. Collecting your wetness before dipping a finger into you. “Think you can take it doll? You’re so fucking tight. Practically a virgin again, how long’s it been since you were given a good fuck?”

You truly didn’t know the answer for yourself. Only moaning as Toji pulled off the lace material, spreading your legs wider and pulling his thick cock out the confinements of his jeans. You whimpered when Toji stroked his length, the size being bigger than anything you’d seen before. “‘S alright, ‘m gonna mold her round my cock.” he groaned, lining up with your sopping hole before slowly thrusting into you.

“Nnhg— so big, T-Tojii— can’t take it.” you mewled, Toji’s hand latching over your mouth to muffle your pleas as he forced himself deep into you. “Gonna make it fit doll, just sit real pretty for me and take it yeah?”

You nodded with a shaky moan, your pussy stretching to accommodate his thick girth as he bottomed out inside you. Grunting heavily at how tight you were around him, his cock so deep that he could see himself bulging in your stomach through the thin fabric of your dress.

Toji started off slowly. Your moans increasing in volume as he sped up. The burning sensation turning into nothing but pleasure as he fucked into you, ricking your body back and forth with each thrust.

Toji’s hand fell from your lips, the tattooed skin finding itself wrapped snugly around your neck instead. His cock grazing your gummy spot as he leaned into your ear. “This is exactly what you need doll. Need me to fuck that pretty little pussy so good.” he grunted. “Exactly what your dumb boyfriend failed to do.”

You could only let out a cry, your smaller hands holding tightly onto the arm around your throat. Digging your nails into his flesh as you moaned out into the air. Your lips parted in a string of mewls as the older man’s cock pierced deep into the depths of your insides. Fucking perfectly into your g spot before bullying its way to the entrance of your cervix.

The unfamiliar sensation making you cry out even louder as your head fell back. “T-toji- ahh— so good Toji, feels s’ good.” you cried, your legs trembling around him with curled toes.

“Careful now doll, as much as i would love for him to hear me fucking you right, there’s other people out there.” he teased, your pussy clenching when your eyes met his. Your eyes glassy and your head fuzzy as you were fucked into oblivion.

Letting out a whimper when his grip tightened unintentionally on your throat. Drool falling past the sides of your lips as your eyes fixed on his v line, up to his abs then further until you reached his face. Finding his dark irises staring back down at you hungrily before pulling you closer to him.

His large body swallowing yours when he pressed you up against him. Your moans and cries getting noisy again as you felt yourself getting close. “Tojiii— nnh, ‘m so c-close, ahh— gonna cum.”

“Yeah doll? Close f’ me? Gonna make a mess on this old man’s cock?” he rasped, broad hips still rolling hard into yours as he watched your mouth hang open slightly, your eyes rolling back before closing completely as you reached your high.

Body shaking and pussy spasming around him as your pussy held onto his cock like a vice, letting out a choked scream muffled by Toji’s knowing kiss as you came. Squirting messily onto his cock with the quiver of your hips.

“So fucking hot.” Toji groaned as he pulled away from you. Your breathing noticeably heavy as he fucked you through the aftermath of your orgasm. “Fuck, gonna cum. Where’d you want it?” he breathed.

And you let out a mewl as his thrusts grew sloppy, veiny cock twitching against your walls as he got ready to release. “Fuck, gotta hurry up and tell me doll.”

“Nnhg— inside, want you inside.” you moaned, “C-cum inside me.. please.”

Toji’s pupils dilated and his grin grew wide. “You’re a slutty one in disguise aren’t ya? ‘S my pleasure baby.” His thrusts becoming merciless as he slammed into you. Using your pussy to stroke his cock as you choked out little cries at the fast pace.

“Fuck, gon’ fill you up so good.” he panted, “Gon’ stuff you so full that you’ll be begging to be my good girl again.” his cock throbbed, “Shit— there we go, that’s it doll.” Spilling spurts of his hot cum into your cunt. Making you moan at how easily he filled you up.

Toji gave his final slow thrusts before he was pulling out of you, letting his cum seep out as he helped you put back on your panties. Trapping his seed deep inside you with a hum. “Feel better doll?” he smirked, giving you a short kiss to your lips and laughing as you tried to not let him go.

“Come back to me when you gain some sense and drop that asshole, okay? I’ll be waiting.” Pulling his shirt back on and tucking himself into his boxers, giving you a wink before trying to fix his hair. Your eyes glued onto his back as he walked out the bathroom door.

Leaving you touching your lips that just felt his tongue. Your heart beating faster before you were startled by hard knocking on the door followed by your boyfriend’s voice. “Can you hurry up in there? You’re making my mother think you’re dying or something.”

You closed your eyes and let out a breath, thoughts of Toji plaguing your mind and keeping you calm. “Coming!”

[cybersunnie]

rock-a-bye baby

RAFE CAMERON helps his drunk stepsister get ready for bed.

includes 18+ MDNI / DUBCON / STEPCEST / fem!drunk!reader / unprotected sex (pull out method) / rafe being an unreliable narrator / emotional manipulation / misogynistic undertones / wc 1.9k this is a work of fiction. the behaviors depicted do not reflect my personal beliefs, nor do i endorse or condone such behavior in real life.

Rafe hated that you were his stepsister. 

A little over two years ago, you and your mom moved into his home, and because you all lived under the same roof, that made you family. Bullshit. What you were was an extra mouth to feed. A new problem he didn’t want.

And now, with your arm thrown over his shoulders, Rafe was forced to help you up the stairs. 

A party was thrown at the Boneyard, and you clearly had too much to drink. He wasn’t exactly sober either, but you were slurring your words and couldn’t walk straight to save your life. A part of him wondered if you were playing it up. While he was tempted to leave you behind as not to deal with you, he knew his dad would be pissed if he had, and his dad already disliked him enough.

Eventually, the two of you made it to your room, and you fell face-first to your bed, nuzzling into your warm sheets. Rafe scoffed, a hand running down his face as he turned to leave, but you stopped him.

“Rafe,” your muffled voice called out.

He looked at you and saw you hadn’t moved a muscle. “What?”

You raised an arm. “Clothes.”

“What fucking clothes?”

When he failed to read your mind, a groan left your lips, and you rolled onto your back, a frown tugging your features. 

Oh, he would do anything to wipe that off your face. 

You squinted and then pointed at the clothes dresser behind him. “Nightgown. Top left drawer,” you ordered, the words strung together. Rafe couldn’t believe you were bossing him around. When he didn’t move, you pouted, “Please?”

Spoiled brat. 

But because he was a good stepbrother, he bit back his snippy comments and went to retrieve your nightgown. As he opened the designated drawer, his eyes were immediately drawn to your lace panties. You must have forgotten that those were with your collection of nightgowns. He cocked a brow and picked one up, the fabric soft between his fingers. Who the fuck were you wearing these for? A little boyfriend he didn’t know about? 

Rafe looked over his shoulder, and while you were preoccupied counting how many fingers you had on each hand, he slid it into his pocket. He didn’t know why he did it. An act on pure impulse, he supposed. You wouldn’t notice if one went missing, right? 

He cleared his throat and grabbed a nightgown, tossing it to you. 

“Nice panties,” he commented, maybe a little too casually.

Once you processed his words, a smirk tugged on his lips. You wore a scowl, but he knew you were embarrassed. 

You huffed. “Shut up. You’re so weird.”

Before he could say anything more, you started taking off your shirt. 

Everything within Rafe told him that that was his cue to leave, but his feet were glued to the ground. You didn’t ask him to go. Maybe you still needed him there. Maybe you wanted him to watch. That must be it. You wanted him to see what you were hiding under those clothes. 

After some struggle, you pulled your shirt over your head, movements sluggish. His eyes traced the length of your shoulders, then lingered on your tits for a second too long. Even if he was your stepbrother, he was still a man. And a man had the right to admire the female body. Surely, you would understand.

“You can go now, y’know?” 

His gaze snapped to your face. You looked confused, wary. Fuck, what was he doing? He should leave like you said. No, he couldn’t. Not yet. 

Rafe found himself closing your bedroom door. He turned the lock. Click. “Nah, I’m gonna help you get ready for bed.” 

There was a long pause. “I don’t need help.”

“Cut the shit. You can’t even walk without tripping over yourself.” Rafe walked towards your bed, crouching once he was in front of you. He placed a hand on your knee. “C’mon, just let your big brother help, hm?”

He could see the gears in your mind starting to turn, but you must have ignored it because you said, “You’re barely a year older than me.”

Rafe hummed, unfazed. 

The hand on your knee lifted to the button of your shorts. “Let’s take this shit off,” he murmured, his eyes flicking to your face. You were just watching. 

When he unbuttoned and unzipped it, you moved, putting on your nightgown. Poor thing. Were you getting shy? Did you not want him to see you in just your lingerie? His fingers curled into the waistband of your shorts and gave a light tug. Not needing further instruction, you stood up, and he pulled it down your legs, fighting back a grin.

Too fucking easy.

As you stepped out of your shorts, a hand on his shoulder to keep yourself steady, Rafe stared up at you. The nightgown you wore was white and silky and stopped above your knees. He itched to push them up. Luckily, he didn’t have to do a thing. You raised the silk fabric just enough to allow you to remove your bra, and his gaze dropped to where your breasts were, your nipples hardening underneath. His lips parted, and he sank to his knees.

“Rafe, what’re you doing?” you asked, your eyes still hazy from the alcohol you drank.

Only then did he realize that his hands snuck up your nightgown, fingers gripping your thighs. He was mortified. Not because of what he was doing but rather at the thought you would reject him completely.

He loosened his hold on you. “I’m just, uh, testing the waters.” 

A crease formed between your brows. “What?”

“I’m testing—” his hands slid further up, “—the waters.”

And then Rafe paused. He waited for a reaction from you. For you to slap him. Curse him out. Anything. But it never came. 

Instead, you reached down to pry his hands off you. “Stop, what—? I don’t understand.”

“I do.” He held you tighter, closer, his chin hitting your abdomen as he stared at you, eyes wide and frantic. You pushed his head, though your attempt was weak. “You want this. You want me.”

You stilled. There was a look that loomed over your eyes. Fear. Fear because he was right. No matter how forbidden it was. How fucked it was. You wanted him. You wouldn’t admit that to yourself, but he knew that to be true. He just needed to find proof to help you realize. So, Rafe pushed up your nightgown and worked to spread your legs apart. And there it was, your cotton panties clinging to your already weeping cunt. 

“I fucking knew it,” he whispered, and his thumb hovered over your clothed pussy. “Shit, you’re so wet.” 

You shoved his hand away and squeezed your thighs shut. He watched your gaze dart around your room as if the walls were closing in. You looked overwhelmed—ashamed that you had been caught wanting him the same way he wanted you. No, he couldn’t have that. 

He stood up, hands reaching for your face. “Hey, hey, you’re good,” he soothed, searching for your eyes, your cheeks hot under his palms. 

Finally, you looked at him. “Rafe, I—”

“You trust me, right?” He gestured to himself, fingers tapping his chest. “Right?”

You shook your head. “Yes, but we can’t—”

He shushed you, your name a whisper. “We can. We just gotta be lowkey ‘bout it, yeah?”

You looked torn, your morals pulling you one way and your desires another. But Rafe had you stretched thin, and you caved in like he knew you would. “Right, yeah.”

A pleased smile flashed across his face. “I’m gonna take care of you,” he promised, your cheeks smushed between his hands, “gonna make you feel so good.”

Then he leaned in, his nose nudging yours. You didn’t pull away. He took that as an invitation and kissed you. The first was fleeting, lips brushing, barely there. You still didn’t pull away. After that, he didn’t hold back. He licked into your mouth, hungry. You tasted like the beer you got drunk on, and now he was getting drunk on you. For something considered so vile, he never felt more alive. If this sin were his doom, he would die a happy man.

Rafe was the first to part. “Turn ‘round.” You did as you were told. He placed a hand on your shoulder and another on the small of your back. “Bend over for me. That’s it, fuck, look at you.”

He had envisioned you like this before, but seeing it with his own eyes made his cock stir. With a suppressed groan, he folded over you, his chest pressed against your back, trapping you between him and your mattress. “Gonna make this quick, don’t worry.” His hand slid between the two bodies, working to get his shorts off. “Wouldn’t want us getting caught.”

He felt you nod. You didn’t resist. 

Everything after that blurred together. Movements rushed and jittery and fueled by unadulterated lust.

Rafe had your nightgown flipped over your ass and your panties down at your ankles, his hips rutting into you. He had to clamp his hand over your mouth to mute your whines, one of the sweetest sounds he had ever heard. He knew he should feel disgusted with himself, but he wasn’t. Not one bit. He was right where he wanted to be, buried deep in your warm, wet pussy. And you wanted this, too. He knew you did, despite the glazed look in your eyes. You were just lost in the pleasure of it all. 

“Takin’ this dick so well,” he breathed into your ear, his thrusts growing desperate. “Shit, gonna make sure you don’t need anyone else. Just me. That sounds nice, huh?” 

His mindless murmurs went unanswered. 

You blinked once. Twice. You whimpered into his palm. 

That was enough for him.

It was better you stayed quiet, anyway. You wouldn’t want everyone in Tannyhill to know how much of a slut you were, letting your stepbrother fuck you like this. Rafe would hate for that to happen to you. 

When your cunt fluttered around his cock, he stifled a moan and sunk his teeth into your shoulder. He wasn’t going to last much longer. But he was keeping his word—he would make this quick. His hips stuttered against your ass, chasing his release, wishing he could just cum in your tight pussy with no risk of you getting pregnant. 

With one last thrust, he pulled out, stroking his cock until he came, painting your ass with his cum. 

He panted, his chest rising and falling. Satisfied, he stuffed his softening dick back into his boxers and put on his shorts, making sure the lace panty he took was still in his pocket. Slowly, you lifted your head off your bed and tried to push yourself up, your arms trembling. 

“Don’t, alright?” Rafe leaned over you, his hand brushing back the strands of hair stuck to your face. “I told you, I’m gonna take care of you.”

There wasn’t much fight left in you. Not when you were drunk and all fucked out. So when your eyes found him, you dropped back to the mattress, nodding. He smoothed his thumb across your cheek then kissed your temple. And Rafe did as promised. He cleaned you up, helped you brush your teeth, and tucked you into bed. 

Like a good stepbrother would.

sunnie speaks! stepbro!rafe lacks sooo much self-awareness its crazy. also literally the filthiest thing i ever wrote. but i hope you freaks found how fucked up he is interesting to read?? i guess??? — remember, this is a work of fiction! let's chat about stepbro!rafe

if you like my work, consider following @sunniefics to stay up to date on all my future fics!

[wheresarizona]

but he’s the one I want

summary: All you needed was to see if your dad’s friend, Joel, had a spare key to your father’s house. Instead, you get railed within an inch of your life on Joel’s couch. 

His brown eyes squeeze shut. “Lord help me,” he says under his breath. A second passes, and then he’s looking at you. “Fuck it—I’m already goin’ to hell.” Joel’s large palms grab your face, pulling you in to crush his lips against yours, muffling your surprised sound. 

pairing: DBF!Pre-Outbreak!Joel Miller/College Student f!reader (no physical descriptions)

rating: E (18+!!! No y/n, DBF!Joel Miller, slightly possessive Joel Miller, pre-Outbreak, age gap, explicit consent, unprotected p in v (wrap it up!), creampie, oral sex (f receiving), vaginal fingering, dirty talk, size kink, praise kink, spit as lube, overstimulation, sex on stairs, body worship, slight body insecurity, getting caught, misunderstandings, angst with a happy ending, Die Hard is a Christmas movie debate) 

word count: 11.5k+

a/n: Alexa, play “But Daddy I Love Him” by Taylor Swift. I don’t know where this came from (daddy issues), but I hope you enjoy it! Reader is freshly 21 in my head, Joel is 35 (it’s months before his birthday), and Tommy is 29. Let me know what you think! Big shoutout to @devineconjuring for going on this journey with me and betaing!

Thank you for reading! Comments and reblogs feed me. I’d love to know what you thought!

Main Masterlist

Knock, knock, knock. 

It’s a Friday night; the sky is dark, but the porch light is on. You hug your jacket a little closer to your body to stave off the chill in the air as you wait outside the front door for someone to answer it. A masculine voice calls out, "Comin’!" Footsteps thud on the hardwood floor as they head your way. 

Seconds later, the door is cracked open, and you’re met with the home’s owner, Joel Miller. Just the sight of him in his jeans and navy blue t-shirt has your heart rate picking up in speed, the man looking as handsome as ever. 

His eyebrows furrow in confusion when he sees you. 

"Hey," he greets. "What are you doin' here? Shouldn't you be in school?"

University of Houston—go, Cougars!

You smile. "Three-day weekend—I have Monday off. I thought I'd surprise my dad since it's his birthday." 

The confused look doesn’t disappear. "I coulda sworn he told me they were goin' to Vegas to celebrate a few days ago." ‘They’ being your father, stepmother, and your teenage half-brother.

“Well, I guess it slipped his mind to tell me they were going out of town. He must be getting forgetful in his old age.” 

The relationship you have with your father is… complicated. It’s not bad by any means—you get along and love each other. He just wasn’t very present when you were growing up—he lived in Austin while you were with your mom in Houston, only seeing him a few times per year. Now that you have a car and your mom moved out of state last year with her new husband, you occasionally made the three-hour drive to your dad’s to visit and do your laundry free of charge. It was also where you now stayed on your breaks from school.

Joel opens the door a little wider and crosses his arms over his chest, your eyes moving from his face to admire the broadness in his shoulders and the muscles in his forearms. Having his full attention on you makes the nerves in your belly flutter around like a bunch of butterflies were let loose. 

“He’s not much older than me,” Joel says. His eyebrow lifts. “Are you callin’ me old?” 

The man in question happens to be one of your father’s best friends—or so you’ve been told. In all of the visits to your dad’s growing up, you could count the number of times you saw Joel on one hand. Over the past year that you’ve been coming to Austin regularly, you’ve had much more interaction with him, which has led to you developing a little bit of a crush. Who can blame you, though? He’s gorgeous—the chocolate-colored eyes, the hair that looks so soft, that perfect nose, and those kissable lips. 

“If the shoe fits,” you reply with a shrug and a smile. 

“Kids these days,” Joel grumbles under his breath, shaking his head. “Did you come by just to call me old?” he asks. 

“Oh, no. I was expecting at least one person to be at my dad’s, so I didn’t bother bringing my house key. I’m here to see if you possibly have a spare I could borrow—I would’ve called, but I don’t have your number.” 

Maybe he’d give it to you now…

“I’m sorry, darlin’, I don’t.” 

Hot and a sweetheart—how is he single? Is he single?

You frown, feeling annoyed that you drove all this way to Austin for no reason. You should’ve called ahead, but that was your mistake, assuming your family would stay in town for your father’s birthday. “This was a waste of gas,” you muse. “Love that for me. Well, it looks like I’m heading home, or maybe I’ll get a cheap motel room. Thanks anyway, Joel. Have a nice rest of your night!” You do a little wave at him. 

You start to turn, but stop when he says, “Wait,” and you face him again. He opens the door wider. “It’s too late for you to be drivin’ all that way, and there’s no reason you should pay for a motel when I’ve got a guest room you can stay in. You can get a good night's sleep and leave tomorrow mornin’ when the sun’s shinin’.” 

Again, a sweetheart—why hasn’t anyone snatched him up? Or have they?

“Are you sure?” you ask. 

He finally offers you a friendly smile and moves to open the door all the way. “Yeah, it’s no problem. I was feelin’ lonely anyway with Sarah gone at a sleepover. It’ll be nice to have some company that isn’t my brother.” 

Lonely? Nice to have some company? That sounds pretty single to you. Your night just got a lot more interesting. “Thank you so much! I’ll do my best to be better company than your brother.” 

With that, you make your way inside, toeing off your shoes next to a pair of his work boots.

“That won’t be too hard,” Joel says as he shuts the door. 

You stop in the entryway because you’re not quite sure where you should be going since you've never actually been inside his house. You only know where he lives because your father once asked you to drop something off here. 

“Let me get your coat and bag.” You hand him your small purse, and he moves behind you, helping as you shrug off the long jacket you’re wearing, which he hangs up on a nearby coat hook with your bag. “Oh.” He stops in his tracks, and you look at him, seeing his widened eyes staring at your body. “Were you plannin’ on goin’ out tonight?” 

You glance down at your outfit, and you can understand why he’d make that assumption at the sight of the cute little black dress you’re wearing—it only reaches mid-thigh and has a V-neckline to show off your breasts.

“Not going out—it’s laundry day. I do my laundry when I come to Austin, and this was literally the last clean thing I had.” Your eyes lift to see his glued to your chest, and you think that’s an interesting development. “I have spare clothes I keep at my dad’s that I planned on changing into.” 

It’s the truth, and you’re a little thankful this was your last clean outfit. You can only imagine how embarrassing it would’ve been coming over here in a ratty old T-shirt, granny panties, and your Spongebob Squarepants pajama pants. 

He clears his throat and looks away. A rosy blush appears on his cheeks as he scratches at the back of his neck. “I can put my jacket back on,” you tell him, not wanting to make him feel uncomfortable.

“No, no.” He meets your gaze, offering a reassuring smile. “It’s fine—do you need to use my washer and dryer?” 

“You’re already being nice, letting me stay over. I can wash my clothes at the laundromat when I get home.” 

“It’s really no big deal.” 

“Thank you, but I’m good.” 

“Okay.” His hands go in his pockets, and he seems to get very interested in the short console table against the wall, staring at the contents lying atop it—a stack of unopened mail and what you assume are his keys and wallet.  

“So, what were you doing before I interrupted your evening?” 

“Oh—” He looks at you again. “—I was watchin’ a movie. Would you like to join me?” 

You smile. “Sure—lead the way.” 

He takes you to the living room, where a movie is paused on the television, and lets you know you can sit anywhere. Your choices are one of two armchairs and a maroon leather sofa, and you choose the sofa while he heads for the kitchen. 

“Would ya like a beer?” he calls out on his way to the other room. He doesn’t give you a chance to respond because a second later, he’s back at the doorway to the living room with a confused expression again. “Wait, are you old enough to drink…?” 

The question makes you smile. “Yes, Joel. I’m old enough to drink.” 

“Legally…?”

You giggle. “Yes. I can legally drink. You wanna card me?” 

“No.” He runs a hand through his hair and sighs. “Beer?” 

“Sounds great.” 

“Okay.” He nods. 

As you sit on the couch waiting, you become very aware of the situation you’re in. You’ve spoken to Joel one-on-one a handful of times over the last year, but it always happened at a barbecue or a holiday party—places where there were other people around—you’ve never been alone with Joel. This is new territory, and you’re not entirely sure what to expect, especially considering how he was staring at your chest. 

Would you fuck him if given the chance? Yes, zero hesitation. Do you think you have a chance with him? Maybe, and that thrills you. Just two things are working against you: your age and the fact he’s your father’s best friend. Those are two hurdles you’re not entirely sure how to get over, but you’re definitely game to try. 

Your conversations were always friendly in the past, and you’re proud to say you’ve made him laugh a few times. You think you could possibly charm him. What you know for sure is he’ll need to be very aware that you’re interested; otherwise, he won’t even fathom trying anything with you—thank god you’re wearing this dress. Nerves are swirling in your tummy at what could happen tonight, and you’re eager to see where things go. 

Joel returns with two open bottles of beer, handing you one, and you thank him as he takes a seat right next to you. He leans forward to grab the remote and hits play before sitting back and taking a drink. 

He’s so close to you that you get a whiff of his cologne—it has a spiciness to it and some citrusy notes that, when combined, smell amazing. It makes you think he took a shower when he got home from work today—and, suddenly remembering he’s a contractor, you imagine him shirtless and sweaty while using a hammer. The thought causes your mouth to go dry, so you lift your bottle to your lips for a sip, focusing on the TV. 

It’s easy to figure out what he’s watching when you see Josh Hartnett in clothes from the 1940s. 

“Pearl Harbor?” you ask, now holding your drink on your lap, picking at the label with your fingernail. 

“Yeah.” His head turns your way, his beer resting on his thigh. “Have you seen it?” 

Meeting his eyes, you answer, “Oh, yeah.”

He frowns. “Because it’s a girly movie?”

“Um, kinda? The guys are pretty easy on the eyes, and the story is interesting. I wouldn't say it’s super girly. Sure, it’s a romance, but there’s so much action and drama about the war in it.” 

“The back of the DVD said nothin’ about it bein’ a romance.”

“Are you enjoying it, at least?” you ask. 

He sighs and looks back at the television. “Yeah, I am.”

“Then enjoy it! If anyone asks what we watched, I’ll tell them Die Hard.” You lightly pat his thigh closest to you, feeling the muscles tense under your palm. 

His gaze returns to you. “You’ve seen Die Hard?”

“Yes. A few times.” 

Because it’s your dad’s favorite movie. 

His upper body slightly turns your way, his arm going behind you on the couch. The closeness and the attention he’s giving you make your skin heat. 

“I want you to settle somethin’ my brother Tommy and I disagree on—have you met Tommy?” 

“Once.” At a barbecue. He didn’t catch your attention like Joel did. “What am I settling?”

“Do you think Die Hard is a Christmas movie?”

“What…?”

“Tommy is fuckin’ convinced that Die Hard is a Christmas movie, and I say it’s just another action flick. A good one, but definitely not a Christmas movie.”

It takes you a second to process what he asked. 

“I mean,” you start, “it takes place on Christmas Eve, at a Christmas party, and I’d say it’s a Christmas miracle that John McClane happened to be there to save the day. So, yeah, it’s totally a Christmas movie.” 

“You’re fuckin’ with me. Just ‘cause it takes place on Christmas Eve at a Christmas party doesn’t mean it’s a Christmas movie.” 

You point the neck of your beer at him. “You forgot John McClane being a Christmas miracle. Makes sense to me that it’s a Christmas movie.” 

He takes a deep breath. “So, are you tellin’ me that—what the fuck is that movie called?” His eyes leave you as he thinks, trying to remember the name. “Lethal Weapon!” He looks at you again. “So, you’re tellin’ me that Lethal Weapon would also be a Christmas movie? Have you seen that one?” 

Yep, with your father. 

“I have, and yeah, it’s a Christmas movie. You’ve got drug dealers using a Christmas tree business as a front, Christmas is mentioned all throughout, they use a bunch of Christmas songs, and it ends at Christmas dinner. Absolutely a Christmas movie.” 

“Say you’re messin’ with me, darlin’. You know what a Christmas movie is, right? 

“Yeah, you’ve got the heavy hitters—It’s a Wonderful Life, A Christmas Story, A Christmas Carol—then those stop-motion ones that are delightful. I’d put Die Hard and Lethal Weapon in the same category as Home Alone.”

“Why the hell do you think Home Alone is a Christmas movie?” 

“It’s set during the holiday season, and there’s a ton of Christmas imagery and music. Plus, you’ve got Kevin going on a similar journey as the main character in It’s a Wonderful Life where, in the end, he realizes how much he loves and needs his family—sounds pretty Christmas-y to me.” 

His jaw clenches, and it’s seconds before he inhales deeply and looks back at the TV. 

“Son of a bitch,” he sighs, shaking his head. “They’re fuckin’ Christmas movies.” He takes a long drink of his beer. 

You grin. “They are indeed,” you reply and pat his thigh again. 

His bottle lowers, and he looks over at you. “Even though you somehow made a dumbass like Tommy make sense, you’re definitely better company than him. He’d never let me live this down.” 

He’s visibly relaxed, and you have, too. The fact he’s enjoying you being there has calmed your nerves, and you’re having a great time talking to him. Plus, he’s nice to look at.

“Then it’ll be our secret,” you say. “Like how we’re totally watching Die Hard right now, and not—” Your eyes go to the TV, and they widen. “—the one sex scene in Pearl Harbor.” It’s nothing too risque and honestly kind of lame. 

Joel looks, too. “They’re just rollin’ around on the ground…” 

“It’s PG-13, Joel. I don’t know what you’re expecting from a movie where they can only say fuck once, and titties are prohibited.” 

His head turns your way. “You’re somethin’ else, you know that?” he says, and when your eyes land on his, you find that he’s smiling—your heart skips a beat. 

“A good something or a bad something?” 

“A good somethin’.” 

You share his expression. “You’re something else, too.”

“A good somethin’ or a bad somethin’?”

“A very good something.”

His eyes darken, and suddenly, his attention returns to the movie. Joel clears his throat, then chugs the rest of his beer, leaning forward to set the empty bottle on the coffee table. 

When he sits back, his arm is still behind you on the top of the couch, and he scoots the tiniest bit your way to have your bodies touching. 

It’s clear that there’s a shift to the energy in the room, and the tension becomes palpable—he likes you, and you think there’s a possibility he more than likes you with how close he is. The thought has your heart pounding, and you’re unsure what to do next. You’ve only been with boys your own age, and Joel is so much older and more experienced. 

The panic has you blurting out, “Are you seeing anyone?” Then, backpedaling, “Not that it’s any of my business, so don’t feel obligated to answer.” 

He looks at you, and you keep staring at the TV, almost wishing the floor would swallow you whole. 

“Why do you wanna know?” 

“I’m nosy.” 

He huffs in amusement. “You only wanna know ‘cause you’re nosy?” 

“That’s what I said.” 

“No other reason?” 

“Can’t think of any.” 

“Okay—no, I’m not seein’ anyone. What about you? You got a boy back in Houston worryin’ about you?” 

“Nope.” 

“Really?” The genuine surprise in his voice has your head turning to see the matching expression. 

“What’s so shocking about that?”

He frowns. “I beg your pardon, darlin’. It just doesn’t make much sense that someone as pretty and fun as you doesn’t have a line of boys waitin’ their turn to take you out.” 

Those butterflies in your stomach are flapping around again. 

“Not really.” You shrug. “Plus, the guys my age usually only want sex but aren’t very, um, giving, if you know what I mean.”

Now he looks grumpy. “Selfish boys,” he grumbles, and it makes you smile. 

“So, not an issue with someone older like you. Good to know.” You squeeze his thigh and keep speaking so he can’t reply, “If you don’t mind me asking, why are you single?” 

For some reason, he can’t look at you now, focusing on your hand. He reaches across his body to grab yours with his larger one, staring at your fingers. He lets out a long, weary sigh, his thumb rubbing against each of your dark blue-painted fingernails. 

“Women don’t particularly like that Sarah is the most important person in my life and my top priority…”

“But she’s your daughter, she should be your top priority.” 

“That’s the logic, but they want me all to themselves and don’t like sharing.” 

“Joel?” 

His face lifts to meet your gaze. 

“Yeah?” 

“You’ve dated some truly shitty women.” 

He smiles. “I guess I have. It doesn’t matter anymore. I’ve given up on datin’. It’s just a waste of time.” 

“That is such a shame.” 

His dark eyes get even darker. “You’re trouble.” 

“Why am I trouble?” 

His eyebrow arches. “Your daddy would kill me.” 

Your brain short-circuits for a second as you take in the statement—he’s into you, he’s really into you. Now, what are you going to do?

“Don’t you remember, Joel?” you ask and move to put your beer on the table. When you sit back, you cuddle a little closer into his side. “You were worried about me driving home in the dark, so you offered me your guest room—we watched Die Hard, then turned in for the night. You’re a stand-up guy for keeping your friend’s daughter safe.” 

His eyes move from yours to your mouth, his hand coming up to cradle the side of your face—his palm is so big his fingertips almost reach the back of your head. He starts leaning in, your heart hammering in your chest at the thought that he’s going to kiss you, and you stop breathing when his lips are only a hair’s breadth away from yours.

And then he pauses. 

“Tell me why you really came here tonight,” he rasps. 

That confuses you, your brows pulling together, and you sit back to see his face. “I did? I needed to see if you had a spare key to my dad’s house.” 

His eyes are on yours. “Bullshit—there’s no way this just happened to be the last outfit you had.” He looks directly at your tits. 

“It is if you wait super last minute to do your laundry, and I told you, I have other clothes at my dad’s. Why do you think I came over here?” 

His gaze goes back to yours. “With that dress you’re wearin’ and how you keep lookin’ at me, for a lot more than needin’ a key.” 

“You thought I came over here to seduce you…?”

“Yeah…?”

“Wow.” You gently pat his cheek. “You think I’m way bolder than I actually am—me coming here and the outfit was not premeditated.” You shake your head. 

His eyes round, and you’d think he was burned by how quickly his hand leaves you and how he moves away a little to put space between you. “Fuck, have I been readin’ this wrong?” 

You scoot to have yourself against him again. “The assumption I came here specifically to seduce you was very wrong. But you’re right that I definitely want you to fuck me, Joel.” 

“Shit,” he breathes out and scrubs a palm over his face. “You’re gonna get me in so much trouble.” 

Turning his way, you rub your hand along his jeans-covered thigh. “No, I’m not,” you tell him. “Stop thinking, and kiss me.” 

His hand lowers. “Not thinkin’ is gonna get me killed.” 

“Not thinking is going to get you a blow job and pussy.” You press your palm between his legs over where you can feel he’s already hardening. “Hell, I’ll sweeten the deal—you can come anywhere you want.”

His eyes go wide. “Jesus Christ,” he whispers, and you smile. His reaction makes you brave. 

“Tell me you don’t want this, and we’ll go back to watching the movie and pretend nothing happened. Or—and I like this option more—you kiss me, and we’ll go as far as you’re willing to go.” Your hand moves up to hold his cheek, and it’s a good sign when he leans into your touch as you stare into his eyes. “But I’m going to make myself crystal clear, Joel. I want you—badly.  You’re beyond sexy, and the fact you’re older and have a lot more experience than me is a big turn-on. I’d love to know what good sex is like for once and maybe have you teach me some things.” You shrug your shoulder. “It’s up to you, though. Just know I’m more than willing.” 

His brown eyes squeeze shut. “Lord help me,” he says under his breath. A second passes, and then he’s looking at you. “Fuck it—I’m already goin’ to hell.” Joel’s large palms grab your face, pulling you in to crush his lips against yours, muffling your surprised sound. 

This kiss is unlike any you’ve experienced before. You’re used to overeager boys practically shoving their tongues down your throat the first chance they get, yet here’s Joel claiming your lips—you can feel his every want and his desire for you with how thoroughly he kisses you. The soft pillow of his mouth moves with yours, his scent filling your nose—hints of the beer he drank and his spicy cologne imprinting this moment in your mind. Your eyes flutter closed, and your head goes dizzy from the arousal igniting in your belly. 

Just one kiss and you know you’re ruined for anyone else. 

His arms go around you, and he mouths at your chin. “Come here,” he says against your skin. “Get in my lap.” 

You do as you’re told, bunching up the bottom of your dress at your waist and moving to straddle his thighs. His hands go under your clothes to grab your ass, and he’s so surprised to feel bare skin he leans back with the confused expression you’re becoming intimately familiar with. 

“You really didn’t come over just to fuck me?” he asks. His palms wander, and you know he’s discovered your thong when he hooks a thumb under its stretchy waistband—they were the last clean pair of underwear you had. 

“I really didn’t.” You’re curious about something. “But if I had, what are the chances that I would’ve succeeded…?” 

“With this dress and a little convincin’? Pretty good.”

You smile. “Really?” 

“Yeah. You’re so fuckin’ beautiful and smart. I know this is a bad idea, and it’ll probably bite me in the ass later, but I’m so fuckin’ lonely, and you’re just too damn temptin’ to pass up.” 

The truth is clear in his eyes and makes you kiss him—your fingers comb into the hair at the back of his head, finding it softer than you thought it’d be. It starts off slow and tender, just lips to lips, until Joel deepens it, the tip of his tongue making it past your lower lip. Hearing that he’s lonely tugs at your heart, and you want to do everything you can to make that loneliness disappear. Things start to heat up, and all you can do is follow his lead, moaning as he explores your mouth with his tongue. With his palms on your backside, he helps you rock your hips, grinding yourself against his hard cock beneath his jeans, rubbing your clit just right to fan the flames growing in your core. 

When you finally need to come up for air, his hand grips your chin to turn your head as you pant, Joel kissing and nipping at your skin from the base of your neck up—tingles wash down your spine when he nibbles on your jaw. He gently bites your earlobe, and you gasp when his hot breath tickles your ear. 

He huskily whispers into it, “You want me?” His hand fondles your breast. 

“Yes.” 

“I can touch you?” 

“Anywhere.” 

“I need you to be a good girl and tell me when you do and don’t like things—understand?” 

“Yes.” 

“Good girl,” he purrs. 

The way those two words make your cunt clench has you moaning, ”Fuck.”

He easily unzips the back of your dress, tugging the garment up and over your head, letting it fall unceremoniously to the floor. You’re sitting astride his lap, the dark pools of his eyes taking in your mostly naked body, his big hands massaging your bra-covered breasts. It’s surprising that being under his gaze, you don’t immediately feel self-conscious, and you think that has to do with how he’s looking at you—the desire and appreciation clear as he admires you.

“Can I take this off?” he asks, nodding towards what he’s touching. 

“Yes.” 

He sits up straighter, and it’s quick work for him to get your bra off, it landing on top of your dress. He’s focused on your tits, holding them in his palms, weighing them. He leans forward, sucking your nipple into his mouth, and the sudden shock of pleasure has your breath catching in your throat, your fingers grabbing handfuls of his shirt for something to hold onto. When he grazes his teeth over the stiff bud, your entire body shivers—your panties have a wet spot from your pussy leaking your arousal for him. He gives your other breast the same attention, leaving your skin shiny from spit when he comes off of it with a wet pop to look at you. 

“Lie down on the couch, baby.” He pats the empty seat next to him. “Your head all the way at the other end.” 

He doesn’t have to ask you twice. You scramble out of his lap, the couch’s leather creaking as you crawl over to where he instructed and sit back on your elbows to see what’s happening. Joel grunts as he gets up to stand, watching in interest when he squeezes the noticeable bulge at the front of his jeans. His arm goes behind his head to grab his shirt, pulling it up and off of his body to bare his torso. 

At seeing so much of his golden skin, your jaw goes slack—his freckled chest is so broad, tapering down to his trim waist, his abs showing a little bit of muscle definition you think is from doing manual labor and not working out. Your eyes fixate on the happy trail of hair below his belly button that disappears beneath the waistband of his jeans.

“Sure could get used to you lookin’ at me like that.” 

That has your attention snapping up to his face, where you find him smirking, and you close your mouth. 

“Sorry,” you apologize, your eyes darting away from him. 

“Nothin’ to be sorry about, darlin’. Makes me feel pretty fuckin’ great about the shape I’m in.” 

You look at him again. “Hate to break it to you, babe, but you’re in great shape and so hot—you’re really down to fuck me?” You point at yourself. 

He kneels on the sofa by your feet, his hand on the back of it to steady himself.

“Darlin’, if I didn’t know your daddy, and you were a stranger I met in a bar, I’d bring you home in a heartbeat. I feel like a real lucky son of a bitch that someone as young and pretty as you has any interest in an old guy like me.” He lifts one of your legs and gently kisses the inside of your ankle, the sweetness of it making you melt a little. 

“Oh, I’m very interested in you.” 

“Is that so?” he asks and spreads open your legs. He crawls over you, and you lie back, Joel nestling his hips between your thighs for you to feel how hard he is as he dips his head, kissing up the column of your throat—the nerves in your stomach flutter wildly. 

“Yes,” you whisper and need to touch him, wrapping your arms around his torso to press your palms against the warm skin on his shoulders—his body shudders, a rumbling groan coming from his chest. 

You squeak in surprise when his lips are suddenly on yours, kissing you hard. 

He takes over all of your senses—he’s all you see, he’s all you feel, he’s all you taste, he’s all you hear, he’s all you smell. It’s him, and him alone—his lips on yours, his tongue in your mouth, his weight on top of you. Your fingers thread into his hair, moaning as he takes over your very world, reveling in this feeling of being wanted. 

His lips leave yours, both of you breathing a little heavier. His teeth gently sink into your chin before kissing along the underside of your jaw. 

He speaks into your skin, his words muffled, “I’m very interested in you, too. I shouldn’t be, but I am.” His mouth ends up at your ear, and he quietly asks, “Can I eat your pussy?” 

“Oh.” The question surprises you. “I’m usually the one who asks. Do you want me to blow you first?” There was always a quid pro quo when it came to oral. 

His head lifts to look you in the eye. 

“Darlin’?”

“Yes, Joel?” 

“You’ve been with some truly shitty boys.” 

It makes you laugh, and he smiles. 

“Ain’t that the truth,” you reply. 

“It should always be ladies first—may I?” 

What a gentleman. 

“Absolutely.” 

“Good,” he says and pecks you on the lips. 

He doesn’t immediately move off of you, and it catches you off guard. Instead, his mouth blazes a trail, kissing down your body—your neck, your chest, and your belly. This is when your self-consciousness rears its ugly head. Joel is getting up close and personal with your imperfections—your scars, stretch marks, cellulite, all those little details you normally kept hidden in the safety of dark rooms or under shirts when you hooked up with someone. Now, you’re basically naked, the lamp is on, and he can see it all, which makes you feel uneasy.��

He kisses just above your belly button, then below it, going lower and lower until he places one last kiss on your panties, over your mound. He sits up on his knees, tracing the lines and curves of your thighs and hips with his large palms while he drinks you in as you lie there—you have to fight the urge to cover yourself, unable to meet his gaze.

The silence is broken when Joel speaks. “You’re so fuckin’ beautiful.” 

Your eyes seek out his face where you don’t find any deception, but you have to ask, “Really?” 

“Really.” He nods. “Fuckin’ gorgeous.” 

His attention goes to the apex of your thighs, and the pink of his tongue swipes along his bottom lip as if he’s imagining how you’ll taste. He strokes the pad of his thumb over the visible damp spot on your underwear, his other hand squeezing his cock that’s straining in his jeans. 

“I bet you have the prettiest pussy, too,” he says, and gets his fingers under the elastic waistband on your panties, pulling them down and off your legs, the air cool against your now bared skin. He shuffles back a little, then bends forward, spreading your lips open with two fingers as his face hovers over it. You think your heart might beat out of your chest with how fast it’s thudding, your skin feeling so hot. “I fuckin’ knew it, such a pretty pussy,” Joel murmurs. He circles your clit with his thumb, and the pleasure has every muscle in your body tensing and your eyes closing. “You’re gonna taste so good.” 

He loudly groans as he drags the flat of his tongue along your cunt, wrapping his lips around your clit and sucking.

“Oh, god,” you moan, your body squirming at how good it feels. 

Joel has to pin down your hips with an arm across them to keep you still, his face buried in your pussy. He goes straight to the source, lapping at your entrance to taste your arousal while the tip of his perfect nose rubs against your bundle of nerves, his facial hair prickling your skin. 

Oh. 

Oh no. 

You’re fucked. 

It’s not even a minute in, and you can already feel your orgasm taking shape low in your belly, the muscles beginning to wind up. If you thought the first kiss ruined you, you know you’re ruined by how eagerly he’s eating you out—who knew this could be so good? You have to wonder how you’ll ever be able to fool around with anyone else when Joel is all you’ll be able to think about or compare it to—this is the only moment doubt invades your mind. You feel like this is all a mistake, but it’s quickly squashed by how unbelievably horny and curious you are. 

His mouth lifts, and you whine at its loss. “Gimme a second,” he pants. “I gotta see how tight you are.” That’s when one of his thick fingers presses to your soaked opening, and he slowly starts to push it inside. 

The slight stretch makes you gasp his name, your fingers clawing at the sofa’s maroon leather.  

“Christ,” Joel says. “You’re squeezin’ me. With how fuckin’ tight you are, I’d think this is your first time.” 

You sit back up on your elbows and open your eyes to look at him. 

“You just have massive fingers, and it’s been a while.” 

His gaze meets yours as he smirks. “Well, I’m gonna loosen you up with my massive fingers, and I think you’ll enjoy it.” 

He doesn’t wait for you to respond. His head dips, flicking his tongue side-to-side against your clit when you feel the sudden pressure of his second digit pushing into you—there’s even more of a stretch and the delicious feeling of being full. You fall back on the couch, tangling your fingers into the brown waves of hair on his head, moans falling unbidden from your lips. His digits crook as they pump in and out of you, sliding along your upper wall when they press into something that elicits white-hot pleasure, making you keen and wiggle under the hold he has on your lower half.

Yeah, you’re totally and completely fucked. 

He’s relentless with his mouth and fingers as you careen toward your end, free-falling in the throes of pleasure. He’s really going to get you off, and you think you might be in love with him. Is that crazy? Falling for the guy you absolutely should not fall for—that you can’t even have any kind of future with—because it’d ruin both of your lives, especially his. 

Why does that make you want him more? 

You definitely understand now why Eve ate the forbidden fruit—the temptation leads to such sweet gratification when you give in. 

He sucks your throbbing clit into his mouth, sweeping his tongue around it, and you can hear the wet squelch of him fucking his fingers into your cunt. Your thighs are trembling—you’re so close, the coil inside you winding tighter and tighter until it snaps, and you’re coming with an unintelligible cry. Your body seizes up, euphoria exploding out from your center, radiating to your fingers and toes. Joel removes his digits, his tongue taking their place to catch every bit of your slick he can get, groaning as he lets no drop go to waste. 

You’ve never come so hard, feeling a little floaty as you ride out your high, your chest heaving heavy breaths. With how shaky your arms and legs are, you’d think you were out in the freezing cold. 

Joel’s mouth comes off of you and he sits up, rubbing his hands along the outside of your legs. 

“Such a good girl for me,” he says. “Was it good?”

“Was it good?” you parrot back at him and push yourself up into a sitting position. “It was more than good, Joel—oh my god, it was amazing.” 

The bottom half of his face glistens in the lamplight, his shiny lips turning up in a smile. 

“Yeah?” 

“Yes.”

“You still wanna fuck?” 

“I think I will die if you don’t fuck me.”

He chuckles, and that’s all the answer he needs. He’s off the couch instantly, and you watch as he hurriedly unbuckles his belt and gets his jeans undone, shoving them and his boxers down his legs so fast it makes you giggle. He’s balancing on one foot, peeling off his sock, and you finally get a good look at his dick—it’s hard and bobbing between his legs, the tip flushed red and shiny from precum, and your eyes round at how big he is. 

“Second thoughts?” he asks, taking off his other sock. 

Your gaze rises to his, seeing he’s frowning. “No.” You shake your head. “It’s more, ‘I sure hope that thing fits inside me.’” 

He crookedly smiles, his chest puffing up a little. “It’ll fit—I promise.” And he has the audacity to wink at you. 

Just as quickly as he got off the sofa, he’s getting back on it, kneeling in the space between your spread thighs. His attention is on your pussy, rubbing the tip of himself against your swollen clit and through your wetness. Nerves swirl in your belly, along with arousal, his free hand giving your hip a reassuring squeeze before he’s spitting on his fingers and slicking up his cock. He notches himself at your entrance, and your heart is in your throat as you hold your breath.

“Just relax, baby,” he says. “You can take me.” 

He slowly starts feeding his hard length into you, making you gasp when the fat head breaches your slick cunt, your eyes squeezing shut, your fingers digging into the couch’s leather cushions. A groan rumbles from his throat, and you answer with a drawn-out moan as he burrows his thick cock deep inside you, your tight walls stretching to their limits to accommodate his size. Full doesn’t even begin to describe how stuffed you are—he’s hot inside you, almost searing, and you can feel him pulsing. He bottoms out and goes completely still, his hands on your hips in a bruising grip.

“Fuck, that’s good,” he rasps. “You okay?” His thumbs stroke circles on your skin. 

“Yes.” It comes out as more of a squeak. “I just need a second.” 

“Of course, sweetheart.” 

Darlin’, baby, and now sweetheart when his dick is inside you? Is he trying to make you fall in love with him?

He bends at the waist, one hand on the couch holding up his weight while the other massages your breast, his lips wrapping around your pebbled nipple, the sparks of pleasure going straight to your pussy. Your fingers wind up in his hair; what he’s doing to you has you whimpering at how good it feels and only makes you wetter where you’re joined. He pulls each of your legs up to rest on his ribs while his mouth moves higher, kissing your sternum and up the arch of your neck, sucking on your pulse point and making you squirm underneath him. 

His hands end up on either side of your head, his lips leaving behind a wet streak of kisses along the hinge of your jaw to finally ghost over yours—you can feel his breaths and smell your musk. He’s so close it wouldn’t take much more for your mouths to meet. 

His nose nudges yours. “Need more time?” he whispers. 

Enough has passed that you don’t feel as overwhelmed. You slide your palms up his back to his shoulders. 

“No,” you answer just as quietly. “You can move.” 

He pulls out almost all the way and pushes back in as his mouth claims yours, muffling your sounds when he sets up a rhythm of long, hard strokes. You’re gone—all rational thoughts go out the window, and the only thing you can think about is how his cock is moving in and out of you. It’s so distracting you’re having trouble kissing Joel back because your brain keeps screaming, ‘so big, so full, so good.’ 

You’re feverishly clutching at his shoulder blades, your nails leaving crescent moon imprints and scratches you’re sure will bleed on his golden skin, Joel moaning into your mouth. It surprises you when you feel the familiar tension of another orgasm making itself known deep in your core, the pressure rising with each thrust, the angle of them causing him to slide against spots you never knew existed, and you don’t ever want this to end. 

His lips leave yours, pressing his forehead to your cheek. He’s breathing hard, sweat beginning to bead on his skin as he keeps the same pace. 

“You feel so fuckin’ good,” he pants. “Fuck, I’ll never get enough of this pussy. Just wanna stay inside it until my dick is all it knows.” 

Your legs are quivering, your body is burning up, and you can’t get enough of how fucking good this feels. One time—one time—and you’re addicted, you’re drunk on the pleasure and will do anything—anything—for this to happen again. 

“It’s yours,” you gasp. “Oh, god, it’s yours!” 

His lips move to your ear, huskily asking, “It’s mine, baby? Your pussy is mine? I’m fuckin’ ya that good?” 

You’re so out of it and lost in the lust you start babbling, “Yes, it’s yours—fuck, ruin me,” you whine. 

“That’s what you want, for me to ruin your perfect little pussy?”

“Please—make me feel it. Make me ache to have your cock inside me again. Make me yours.” 

He growls, and you think you’ve said the wrong thing because he’s immediately pulling out, your eyes springing open in time to see him sit up on his knees. 

His big hands grab hold of your waist. “Flip,” is all he says, and you find yourself getting manhandled onto your front, Joel tugging you up onto your hands and knees. He wastes no time sheathing himself back inside you, pushing in so deep that your eyes roll back in your head and your toes curl.

Joel’s hips are flush against your ass, the full length of him seated all the way inside of you—you can’t think, your mouth open in a silent cry. He’s filling you to the absolute brim, and it becomes evident your cup has truly runneth over. 

He was right, though. It did fit. 

A shuddery breath escapes you. He only allows you a moment to get used to the new fullness before he’s pulling out until just the tip of him remains and snapping his hips forward hard enough it knocks the air from your lungs—this is how you learn what it’s like to really be fucked, and fucked good. 

His fingers dig into the skin on your waist, pulling you back as he thrusts forward at a pace that has you lightheaded, stars dancing behind your closed eyelids each time he presses against that heavenly spot inside you. 

Warmth grows in your belly, the sounds from the TV overshadowed by the filthy cacophony of skin hitting skin and the audible wetness of his cock working in and out of your used cunt—he’s grunting with each stroke, your moans stuttering from the onslaught.

“Is this what you wanted?” he asks through gritted teeth, emphasizing each word with a hard thrust. 

It’s a struggle to gather your thoughts and form a response with how good he’s fucking you. 

A palm lands on the side of your ass in a loud smack, the sweet sting causing you to clench around him and whimper. 

“Answer me, sweetheart,” he says. “Is this what you wanted?” 

All you can gasp out is a single word. “Yes!” 

“Am I fuckin’ you good?” 

“Yes!” 

He’s pounding into you at a near-brutal pace, the fire inside you only getting hotter as each second passes. 

“Look at me,” he orders. 

It takes everything in you to turn your head and look over your shoulder. Joel is a sight to behold—a flush rising from his chest to his cheeks, the sweat on his skin making it glisten under the lamp’s light, and his hair sticking wetly to his forehead. His eyes are heavy-lidded and glazed over, his jaw clenched. 

He slows, his gaze on yours. 

“You wanna be mine?” he asks. 

“Yes.” 

The moment your answer leaves your lips, he’s blanketing your back, holding himself up with a hand on the couch, the other going under you to palm your breast and tweak your stiff nipple with his fingers. 

He lightly bites your earlobe, his facial hair scratching your cheek when he kisses it. 

“I’m gonna make you come,” he says through heavy breaths. “Then I’m gonna fuck you full of me—you want that?” 

A shiver moves through you, and you gulp. 

“Yes.” 

“Good girl.” 

His hand smooths down your front over your stomach to between your legs, where he starts circling your clit with two fingers. It’s like a live wire along your spine, electricity sparking in your core—that added to the sensations of his cock splitting you open and pushing in and out of you has you rocketing toward your release. 

“You gonna come for me?” His hot breaths fan over your ear. “You gonna let me feel you come all over my cock? Come on, let me have it—come for me.” 

Joel’s bent over you, fucking into you harder and faster, his fingers deliciously swirling around your throbbing bud as he grunts in your ear with every thrust, all of it driving you higher and higher to your end. 

You’re so worked up that it doesn’t take much to have you falling over the edge—the muscles in your belly pull tight, your orgasm ripping through you, gasping Joel’s name. He sucks in a breath when your pussy clamps down on him, then loudly groans, continuing to fuck you through your high, and doesn’t stop—his fingers keep up their assault on your clit, and his hips snap into you in quick, short bursts that extend your high. You come, and come, and come to the point your arms give out, and your body shakes and twitches from all of the pleasure coursing through it. 

When you think you can’t take any more, relief washes over you that Joel follows suit. With one last thrust, he buries himself all the way to the hilt inside you as he falls forward, his front framing your back, his teeth sinking into the meat of your shoulder. He comes with a dirty, rumbling groan—you feel his dick thicken and pulse, hot spurts of his spend filling you. He grinds his hips, fucking it as deep as it will go, then stills.  

The movie’s ending credits are playing, hearing the music and your and Joel’s ragged breaths as you both come down. He’s at the same awkward angle as you, with your hips up and your faces down—his sweaty chest is pressed to your back, your bodies sticking together everywhere they touch. It’s not the most comfortable position, but with how your limbs tremble, you’re not entirely sure you can even move. 

You asked him to ruin you, and oh boy, did he deliver—you’re absolutely, positively ruined. It kills you that after whatever this night is, you’ll have to go back to subpar sex with guys who couldn’t find the clit if they were given a map and detailed directions. This is the second time tonight that you fear you’ve made a grave mistake hooking up with Joel, and the post-sex clarity is not helping the situation at all. 

What were you thinking?

That’s easy; you weren’t. Or, at the very least, you weren’t thinking with your brain. Your pussy took the lead on this one, and it looks like she’s gotten you into a bit of a situation. 

Your thoughts are interrupted when Joel’s arm wraps around your middle, and he turns you two onto your sides, the couch just barely wide enough to fit you both. 

“Tha’s better,” Joel slurs, nuzzling his face into your hair. His hand over your stomach feels around until he finds your smaller one, lacing your fingers together and holding it to your chest—oh, he’s cuddling with you. It’s unexpected and nice. You close your eyes and enjoy this taste of intimacy. 

Many minutes pass before he mumbles something you can’t make out. 

“I’m sorry,” you start and are immediately embarrassed by how hoarse and scratchy your voice sounds from all the sounds you made tonight. You clear your throat and try again, “I’m sorry—what did you say?” 

He turns his face so it’s out of your hair. 

“I asked if you wanna stay over,” he says. 

You smile. “Are you getting forgetful, Joel? You said I could stay over when I got here.” 

“Fuckin’ smartass,” he grumbles, and you giggle. “What I meant was, do you wanna stay in my room? With me,” he clarifies. 

“Only if you’re okay that I sleep naked—I’m not wearing my dress to bed.” 

“Was kinda hopin’ you’d be naked.” He kisses your shoulder. “But if you’re more comfortable wearin’ somethin’, I can get you one of my t-shirts—it’s no big deal.” 

“It baffles me that you’re single.” 

“Why?”

“Uh, because you’re incredibly sweet, amazing in bed, a great father, very handsome, hardworking, and just an all-around catch. If I had the opportunity, and you know, there wasn’t the elephant in the room—” The fact he’s much older than you and one of your dad’s best friends. “—I’d date you in a heartbeat. If you ever give dating a shot again, you’re going to make one lucky woman very happy.” 

“Fuck,” Joel groans, letting go of your hand to press his palm to his face. “What the hell am I doin’?”

That makes your stomach drop, and you frown—he’s regretting everything, and you can’t blame him. The post-sex clarity is a real bitch sometimes. 

“Stressing for no reason,” you reply. You’re pretty sure you can walk, so you get up from the sofa, ignoring how wobbly your legs feel and his come leaking down your thigh. “Don’t you remember, Joel?” you ask, looking toward the floor for your clothes. “You let me stay the night ‘cause you were worried about me driving home in the dark.” You carefully bend down to pick up your thong, followed by your bra and dress. “We watched Die Hard,” you continue, straightening to stand. “Then turned in for the night to our respective bedrooms. You’re a real stand-up guy for caring so much about your friend’s daughter’s safety.” 

You can’t even look at him, focusing instead on the TV where the Pearl Harbor DVD’s menu is on screen. 

“Stop that.” 

“Stop what?” 

“Tryin’ to pretend nothin’ happened.” 

“You clearly wish nothing happened, so nothing happened—where’s the bathroom?” You need to clean up, and you’re tempted to just leave altogether. 

“Up the stairs, second door on the right—when the hell did I say I wished nothin’ happened?” 

“You didn’t have to. Your ‘what the hell am I doin’?’ was enough for me to get it.” You hug your clothes closer to your body. “Anyways, thanks for tonight. I think I’m just gonna use the bathroom and get out of here. I don’t want you to worry, so I’ll stay at that cheap motel by the highway.” The sign said it was twenty-something dollars a night, and you can swing that. You start heading toward the stairs. 

“Hey, stop.” You don’t. You keep walking, willing the unshed tears in your eyes not to fall. 

Why are you so upset? You’re well aware that this can only be a one-time thing. It was something fun and sexy where you got to fuck the older, unattainable guy you’ve been crushing on for a while. It wasn’t anything serious, and couldn’t be anything serious, because there’s no future for you two together. Not when he’s a good friend of your father’s. That kills any chance of having a relationship with Joel. 

What hurts is he regrets it and wishes it never happened—you’re a mistake, and who wants to be someone’s mistake? 

His heavy footsteps sound behind you. “Darlin’, stop,” he says again, and you continue ignoring him. Fingers latch around your bicep and lightly tug. “Please, stop for a second. Talk to me.” Finally, you do as he’s requested, standing still in front of the staircase. He turns you to look at him in his big brown eyes, his hands holding your arms. 

“I don’t wish nothin’ happened,” he says. “You were talkin’ about how if things were different, you’d date me, but since they are the way they are, you won’t. I was thinkin’ to myself ‘what the hell am I doin’ wishin’ you’d change your mind,’ when I know it’s for the best.”

“Oh—really?” 

Hope swells in your chest, butterflies fluttering around in your tummy. 

“Yeah.” He nods. “Tell me you want nothin’ more to do with me, and I’ll grab you a towel and some of my clothes so you can wash up and retire to the guest room unless you’re truly set on stayin’ in a motel. In that case, I’ll pay for your room somewhere safer and much nicer, so I know you’ll be okay. Or—and I like this option more—you kiss me, and I’ll take you up to my bedroom so we can shower, either together or separately, whatever you’re comfortable with. Then we can get into my bed where we can talk and figure things out.” 

It sounds like he doesn’t want this to be a one-time thing, either, and that makes you so happy you let your clothes fall to the floor to throw your arms around his neck, crashing your lips to his. Joel groans, his arm sliding behind your back, hugging you closer to him, his other hand cradling your cheek. Suddenly, he’s backing you up until your heels hit the first step, and he guides you to sit on a higher one, Joel kneeling on a lower stair to be at the right height that his hips slot between your thighs when he lays you back. He licks into your mouth, deepening the kiss, your fingers digging into his shoulder blades. 

With how good he made you feel tonight, how wanted, you need more of him. There’s a looming fear in the back of your mind that this is too good to be true—that you’ll never be with him like this again, which makes you desperate for him. Your hand snakes its way between your bodies, taking his half-hard cock into your palm, slowly stroking it—a low rumble comes from the back of Joel’s throat. He gets his hand to the juncture of your thighs, sliding his fingers through the puffy lips of your sex, gathering your arousal and his come on his fingertips to rub at your swollen clit. 

“You’re mine,” he says into your lips. 

“I’m yours,” you answer. 

This is how you end up fucking on the stairs, Joel thrusting into you at a pace that has your toes curled and your fingers gripping his ass—your spine tingles from his mouth exploring your neck, mapping out the spots that make you gasp and moan, and you’re in heaven. 

A door slams shut on the other side of the railing, and your eyes fly open.

“Hey, Asshole!” a man calls. 

Joel’s hand covers your mouth, and you watch the intruder walk through the dining room to the kitchen without seeing you. 

“I brought over pizza so you can stop bein’ a sad and lonely sonofabitch!” 

Joel immediately pulls out and gets off you, using his strength to help you flip over. “Upstairs,” he whispers, tapping you on the hip, and you go as quickly and quietly as you can with Joel following. 

You make it to the second-story landing, and he grabs your hand, tugging you all the way down the hall into what you know is his bedroom by how it smells like him. He closes the door and locks it before beelining to his dresser, roughly pulling out one drawer from which he grabs a burgundy t-shirt, then another that he gets a pair of stretchy gray sweatpants. 

“Is this a dress?!” Is yelled from downstairs. “Do you have a girl over?! Who’d wanna fuck your sorry ass?!”

Surprisingly, the clothes in Joel’s hands are not for him; he shoves them into your arms and ushers you over to his bathroom. 

“I’m sorry,” he says, flicking on the light, the fan automatically turning on. “It’s Tommy. Stay in here, and I’ll kick him out.” Obnoxiously loud footsteps are coming up the stairs, and he has to take a deep breath, his eyes to the sky like he’s praying God will smite his brother right this second. “Lord, give me strength,” he breathes. 

“Where would you even meet a girl?!” Tommy asks from the hallway. “All you do is work—you never go out.” 

Joel pecks you on the lips. “I’ll be right back—stay in here,” he tells you again, and this time, he leaves, shutting the door behind him. 

There’s banging on the bedroom door, and your ears perk up as you put on the clothes. 

“Go home, Tommy,” he says. 

“Not until I know who this pretty dress belongs to.” 

“Give me that—it’s none of your fuckin’ business. Leave.” 

“Come on, Joel—we know the same people. Did you finally give in to Nikki? She’s wanted to go out with you for a long fuckin’ time.” 

“No, and it’s still none of your fuckin’ business who I have in the house I pay for. So, get goin’, or I’m gonna make you go.” 

“You can be a real dick, Joel. Why are you bein’ so fuckin’ secretive?”

“Do I ask about who you take home from the bar?” 

“No, but—”

“Exactly,” Joel interrupts. “I don’t give a fuck what you do in your spare time, and I sure as hell don’t need to tell you what I do in mine, so leave, Tommy—I’m not in the mood for your bullshit.” 

“With how fuckin’ grouchy you are, I don’t think you got laid at all—I’m gonna get goin’ ‘cause you clearly need the company of a woman. Bye, mystery woman with the pretty dress hidin’ in Joel’s bathroom!” he yells. “Hopefully you can cheer this fucker up! Enjoy the pizza!” 

It goes quiet, and you think Joel left the room, too. You can’t go anywhere, so you decide to take in your surroundings—the bathroom is cleaner than you’d expect from a single man, you have to put the toilet seat down when you pee, and as you’re washing your hands, you notice there’s only one toothbrush in a cup. 

You know you shouldn’t snoop, but you pull open the medicine cabinet and find an extra tube of toothpaste, some Tylenol, Ibuprofen, a thing of pain relief cream, then a shelf with a few medicine bottles that intrigues you—prescription pain pills, antidepressants, and heartburn medication. No red flags, but you’re a little worried about how much pain he’s in. You close the cabinet, and soft knocking on the bathroom door makes you jump. 

“You can come out,” Joel’s muffled voice says. “He’s gone.” 

Walking over to the door, you open it, Joel leaning against the doorframe in a white t-shirt and a pair of gray sweatpants he must’ve put on before talking to Tommy. 

He sighs. “So, that was my brother.” 

“Seems nice—if I remember correctly, he’s younger, right?” 

“Yeah.” 

“That explains how annoying he is.” 

He smiles, and an amused huff leaves him. “Yeah, he’s annoyin’ alright.” 

“We have the house to ourselves?” 

“We do—I walked him out myself.” 

You grin. “Wonderful.” You grab a fistful of his shirt. “Because I think you said something about us showering together, and I’d like to do that right now, then go eat pizza—I’ve somehow worked up an appetite,” you tell him and pull him forward; he happily comes your way with a smirk. 

“Worked up an appetite, huh?” he asks, his eyes on your mouth. 

“Yes. No clue how.” 

He closes the distance, his lips almost touching yours, when he replies, “Let me remind you how,” and kisses you. 

An hour later, you’re walking down the stairs clean and in your borrowed clothes. 

“Can we eat then go to bed?” you ask, through a yawn. “I had classes today, and that long ass drive, plus all the sex. I’m so damn tired.” 

Joel’s behind you in just his sweatpants. 

“I’m fuckin’ tired, too. That sounds good to me.” 

The only lights on downstairs are the lamps in the living room. You walk into the dark kitchen, Joel flipping on the light as he follows, and you head for the stove where the pizza is, popping open the box to see it’s pepperoni. 

“I’ll grab us some plates,” Joel says, rubbing your upper arms. He kisses the top of your head before stepping over to a cabinet.

Turning around, you’re about to ask Joel where the cups are when the dining room light comes on, Tommy standing by the switch. You gasp in shock; Joel’s immediate reaction is to grab a knife from the knife block and get between you and the unwanted visitor—it takes him a second to recognize it’s his brother. 

“Goddammit, Tommy!” Joel shouts and slams the butcher knife onto the countertop. “Are you tryin’ to get yourself killed?!”

“No,” his brother answers, shaking his head, and he looks a little too amused. “But you sure the hell are! Her?!” He points at you and has the audacity to laugh. “Oh, god, Joel,” he says through his glee and grabs the back of a chair, his other hand on his chest as he chuckles. “Her daddy is gonna kill you—you’re fucked!”

Joel sighs and runs his fingers through his hair, perching a palm on his hip. “Yeah, yeah, yeah, laugh it up,” he says. “I’m a dead man walking.” 

“You are!” Tommy calms down, and his shit-eating grin annoys you. “What the hell were you thinkin’?” he asks. “I mean, I know what you were thinkin’. I just can’t get over you not only robbin’ the fuckin’ cradle, but bangin’ your best buddy’s daughter. How long has whatever this is—” He gestures at you both. “—been goin’ on?” 

“It just happened tonight—I don’t need you lecturin’ me on right and wrong. I know it’s a fucked up situation.” 

A fucked up situation? Ouch. The comment has you crossing your arms over your chest, staring at the floor. 

“Fucked up is right, and I’ve got no fuckin’ idea how you’re gonna get out of it. Her daddy finds out about this, and he’s gonna shoot you deader than dead.” 

“I told you I didn’t want you lecturin’ me.” 

Tommy puts his hands up. “Hey, I’m not lecturin’. I’m just statin’ the facts. I wanna make sure you know this thing between you two could get you killed. You’ve got a daughter, Joel—what would you do in this situation?” 

“Woah,” you interrupt, moving to stand beside Joel—Tommy’s comment about Sarah is a fucking nuke you need to try and hopefully defuse. “First of all, I just want to point out that I am a consenting adult and can fuck whoever I want. Second, I need to set the record straight and say that my dad isn’t going to kill anyone. He’ll be mad as hell if he finds out, but he isn’t going to commit murder because, truth be told, he’s never given a fuck about my life choices. I’d also like to add that this is kinda his fault for not having me visit more often because now Joel and I are pretty much strangers, and this whole thing isn’t as bad as it sounds.” 

“It’s still pretty bad, honey,” Tommy replies, his attention turning to you, smiling. 

“Maybe, but it’s also nobody’s business who I fuck.” 

“Sure, but this person you fucked is one of your daddy’s best friends whose—no offense—way too old for you.” 

“Why does everyone keep callin’ me old?” Joel grumbles. 

Tommy looks at his brother. “‘Cause you are, you old man.” He suddenly looks like he just realized something. “Wait a goddamn minute,” Tommy says. “Joel, are you havin’ a midlife crisis? You’re around the age people have those, right? It’d make sense why you’d risk your life to fuck her.” 

“Get out, Tommy,” Joel replies, pointing toward the front door. “I’ve had enough of you.” 

His younger brother pouts. “‘Cause I called you old?” 

“Out.” 

“Fine.” He slowly starts walking toward the hallway that leads to the front door. “I’ll get out of your hair so the two of you can enjoy the rest of your night. Bye!” 

The door loudly closes as he leaves. 

Well, you’re not entirely sure what’s going to happen now. Between the comment about Sarah and the other things that had been said, you wouldn’t be surprised if Joel ends this. You might as well cut your losses and get it over with to save yourself from more heartbreak. 

Your eyes are on the ground, the first tear falling down your cheek. “After all that, I know whatever this is is probably over,” you quietly say. “But is there a chance I can still sleep in your bed with you tonight? And if you’re willing, have you hold me?”

He turns and pulls you into his arms.

“Yeah, you can sleep with me,” he answers and kisses your hair. “But I’m gonna need you to stop.” 

You lean back to look at him with watery eyes. “Stop what?” 

A sad smile is on his lips. “Jumpin’ to conclusions without talkin’ to me. You’ve already got one foot out the door, and I haven’t even opened it.”

“It’s just everything Tommy said.” 

He lightly squeezes your biceps. “Tommy was bein’ a little shit. You were right when you said this isn’t as bad as it sounds, but you gotta be honest with me about somethin’.” 

“What?” you ask.

His hands come up to hold your face, his thumbs wiping away the tears that have fallen. “Are you positive your daddy won’t kill me? I’ve got Sarah to think about, and even though I like you a lot, I’m not gonna risk dyin’ to be happy.” 

The sweetest man and the best father.

You think about it for a second, and the sad truth is you can’t imagine your dad killing anyone for you—he doesn’t love you that much. He doesn’t love you to the same degree that Joel loves Sarah. With how easily Joel grabbed a knife to protect you, there’s no doubt in your mind he’d kill for his daughter without hesitation. 

“He’ll be pissed off, but he isn’t going to kill you. We also don’t need to tell him anything unless this turns into something. We can keep it to ourselves for now.” 

He hums in agreement. “You know, if you wanted, you could start comin’ here to do your laundry...” 

You smile. “How will you explain that to Sarah?” 

“That I’m helpin’ you out, which is true. Plus, I’ve got the guest room.” 

“Uh huh, the guest room that I’ll sleep in?” 

“Yes.” He nods. 

“Alone?” 

“I sleepwalk.” 

You snort. “Stop it.” You playfully push his chest. “Sarah is not gonna believe you sleepwalked into the guest room.” 

He snatches your hand, bringing it up to kiss your knuckles. “Who said anythin’ about Sarah knowin’ I’m in the guest room, or you bein’ in my room for that matter, while she’s sleepin’? There are also nights like tonight she spends with friends.” 

“You really want me to hang out here?”

“Yeah. It’s nice to have company that isn’t Tommy.”

“I believe that. As long as I’m not a bother, I’ll do my laundry here.”

He smiles. “Not a bother, and you can wash your clothes tomorrow and stay another night. You could even stay over Sunday, too, since you have Monday off—you’re more than welcome.”

You loop your arms around his neck. “Yes, Joel. I will spend my long weekend with you.” 

He leans in, brushing his lips against yours. “Good.” 

Main Masterlist

Thank you for reading! If you’d like to be tagged in my fics, please fill out the form in my bio, on my masterlist, or just let me know! 

[raynewolferune]

Meta Jazz, the Arkham Intern Therapist Pt1

Update 5/16/2024: Congrats guys, gals, and others! You have planted the seeds and they have grown. Today I wrote another 46 pages on this story (the first section was only 9 pages ya'll). I'm working on splitting it up into smaller sections so I can post it now because tumblr said no to doing it as one piece. I'll be using the tag #Meta Jazz Arkham Intern Therapist if you want to follow it.

Original Note: I'm going to go ahead and apologize for how OOC Bane is in this. It originally was Joker but I couldn't see Jazz tolerating his proximity for more than a single millisecond so Bane it is.

~*~*~

The hardest thing about being a Meta in Gotham was responding appropriately during a Rouge's attack, Jazz mused to herself. Or perhaps that was just the hardest part about being a Meta intern at Arkham while studying psychology at Gotham University. Or maybe it was just her, she considered watching the guards and Dr. Rylie whom she'd been shadowing for the past 2 weeks wide eyed, pale, and shaking as theybstared at Bane behind her. It must just be her, Jazz decided, newbie guard Kyle Jennings was definitely a Meta after all. She should probably give him some tips on hiding his enhanced strength considering how often he broke mugs, door handles, and other delicate items used in daily life.

"Weapons down or I'll snap her skinny little neck." Bane growled out, shaking her slightly for emphasis. She very much doubted that. Liminials were built different than the standard Meta, stronger, faster, better endurance, and senses even if they could mostly appear to be standard humans on the outside.  As such, their bones and muscles were much were much denser than regular humans or even Meta humans. Technically, she could be considered "invulnerable" much like the Kryptonians are.

"Back up! Let him through!" Dr. Rylie  shouted at the guards. "She's my student! Let him through!" His voice was higher pitched than she could recall hearing it before.

Ah. That was panic.

Jazz sighed involuntarily and glanced over her shoulder at Bane. Why the man had grabbed the only person close to his own height nearby was a mystery to her - no, nevermind, he clearly meant to use her as a shield - but it made looking him in the eye more difficult than necessary.

"Mr. Bane, remove your hands from my person, please." Jazz stated calmly, channeling what Danny called her inner mom as she spoke. "I will give you to one to comply."

Bane looked stunned for a moment then laughed.

"Five."

The laughing continued. Jazz could sense a stir of uncertainty through her colleagues as they looked on.

"Four."

"Did you really think that would work?" Bane snorted out, arms tensing more around her.

"Three." She continued, indifferent to his words from her experiences raising her brother. Once the count down starts you mustn't respond to anything the kids do or say until they comply or the count is done.

"What cab you even do if I don't?" Bane asked darkly breathing directly in her ear. She kept her face expressionless despite the urge to express disgust.

"Two."

"Jasmine..."  Kyle whispered halfway across the hall from her looking on with a pained and horrified expression. Gun tilting towards the floor. Sloppy.

"One." She finished and Bane gave a derisive snort.

Then she was moving. Hauling the enormous man up and over her shoulder using the arm that had been wrapped around her neck. Bane hit the cold tile hard enough that the tiles, subfloor, structural supports, and part of the concrete foundation buckled beneath him. His shoulder popped out of joint, his wrist cracked - a hairline fracture by the sound of it -  and his breath was punched out of him from the force of impact. She released his arm as soon as his was embedded in the tiles and moved forward. Kneeling over him, support most of her weight on her left foot resting on the broken ground, her right knees pressed firmly across his throat without supporting any of her weight. The position put more strain on her muscles than she would've liked but at least Bane couldn't risk fighting back without crushing his own neck in the process. He could hardly throw her while flat on his back with a mangled arm.

"Now," Jazz began, looking directly into the behemoth's pained eyes. "Do you know what you've done wrong?" She asked like she would have done with Danny as a child.

"Yes, Ma'am." Bane choked out. Jazz heard movement and murmuring behind her. She didn't turn to look.

"What did you do wrong?" She asked. It was important to make sure children correctly understood why they were in trouble after all. There was a long pause as Bane appeared to cast around for the exact right answer as if he feared getting it wrong. A bad habit Danny still uses as well, Jazz thought to herself.

"I tried to hold you hostage," He choked out in a rush, words tumbling over one another as he tried to get them all out. "I scared you coworkers and it was very disrespectful."

So he'd gone for the grab-bag response. It wasn't wrong per sey but it did indicate a past history of abuse. The type of answer given by someone who expected to be harmed or ignored if they gave the "wrong" answer. Danny tended to use that method also and their parents had always been negligent at best.

"And are you going to do it again?" She asked giving him a Look as she did. Bane's eyes widened and he tried to frantically shake his head as much as possible with the pressure on his neck.

"No, Ma'am." He promised fervently.

"Alright then," Jazz said giving him a warm smile. She gestured vaguely towards the guards without turning to look at them. "Kyle here is going to take you to see the nurse and then back to your room then. I'm sure you'll behave for him?"

"Yes, Ma'am. I'll behave." Bane said. Jazz stood slowly asking sure not to put any additional pressure on his neck as she did. Kyle came and stood next to her as the giant of a man slowly pulled himself to his feet then led him away with 5 other guards.

Jazz heaved a sigh. Well, time to find out whether or not she could play all that off as normal, non-Meta human behavior.

[benjinotes]

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐚𝐲 - jacaerys velaryon

jacaerys velaryon x fem reader

summary: a clumsy encounter causes you to swap backpacks with jace.

warnings: too much fluff. curse words. modern au. cregan is the wing man. (he’s 18). loser jace (kinda?).

wc: +4K, english is not my first language.

Rain poured almost violently over Jacaerys’ face, streaming through his already damp curls as he moved with heavy, quick steps across the crowded high school parking lot, rushing toward the entrance.

As he entered the main hallway, he was enveloped by a mix of disconcerting sounds—broken conversations, scattered laughter, and low murmurs—mixed with the distant echo of thunder that rumbled loudly outside. The bad weather made the halls seem even more crowded than usual.

The dampness he had picked up from the bad weather seeped into his clothes, gradually heightening his irritation, which already felt nearly extreme. He felt as though everything was against him that morning and struggled to keep his mind from drifting to the day's disasters, especially the tantrum Joffrey had thrown at the kindergarten door.

He could barely remember the last time something like this had happened, which made the situation even more unbearable. His anxiety, usually under control, seemed to spread throughout his body, causing his muscles to tense anxiously beneath his damp sweater.

Adjusting the strap of his soaked backpack on his shoulder, Jace felt his heart beating with a force that, though small, seemed disproportionate for the start of a typical day. Glancing at the small clock on the hallway wall and seeing that he still had fifteen minutes before his first class began, he let out a sigh of relief, realizing that not everything was lost, though his body remained slightly tense.

However, when he turned and saw some of his classmates carefully carrying their science projects, his stomach dropped. His eyes widened as he realized that his own model was still in his father’s office, in the gym building on the other side of the school, forgotten amidst the morning's chaos, with today being the final deadline.

The brief relief he had felt moments earlier was quickly replaced by a wave of panic and anxiety. Jace’s heart, which had just started to settle, began pounding again with renewed intensity. Once more, he felt his feet hit the ground heavily as he braced himself to face the rain outside again.

He could feel the judging and confused stares of the students filling the hallways as he ran. Yet, he paid them no mind as he sped towards the door on the other side of the corridor, picking up the pace as the heavy raindrops were heating his face once again. This time, he couldn’t help but mutter a curse under his breath for forgetting his umbrella.

He was certain that his mom would give him a lecture about it as soon as she found out.

As Jace dashed out of the main building, he quickened his pace despite the rain drenching him. Instead of being distracted by the storm, his anxiety grew as he worried about getting even dirtier from the rainwater and how his glasses were now smeared and obscured by the droplets.

Upon finally arriving at the school gym, tired from the frantic running, he approached the main door with quick and urgent steps, trying to turn the handle with force due to the rush caused by the delay, and to make his growing irritation worse, the door was locked, and upon discovering this, frustration overwhelmed him. In a moment of anger, he kicked the door in irritation, pulled off his glasses, and threw his black backpack on the floor in a frustrated and frantic gesture.

That day was going poorly, and Jacaerys was certain he was going to miss his first class.

“Really? Are you that upset with the poor door?” Your voice, tinged with sarcasm, startled him, making him flinch and jump slightly at the unexpected sound. With his face flushed, he hesitated, too embarrassed to meet your gaze due to his earlier outburst and the noise he’d made that clearly drew your attention.

Jace’s breath caught in his throat as he turned towards the source of the voice, wiping his fogged-up glasses with a trembling hand. Standing a few feet away, you watched him with an arched eyebrow and a small smile playing at your lips. He couldn’t help but notice how comfortable you seemed.

However, what made him look at you with a confused and slightly alarmed expression was the fact that you didn’t seem to care about the rain at all, appearing unusually confident with your umbrella that seemed too flimsy to withstand such a downpour.

"I’m sorry," Jace said, forcing a smile as he put his now-clean glasses back on, trying to mask his embarrassment and confusion. "I didn’t realize anyone was here." He admitted, clearing his throat awkwardly and avoiding your gaze, which seemed to track his every move.

You gave a sweet laugh that made Jacaerys swallow hard. He watched as your lips parted with each burst of laughter, the sound growing louder and more charming. For some reason, he found himself unexpectedly drawn to it, liking it more than he expected.

"I noticed," you said with a small, apologetic smile. You then reached into your black backpack and absentmindedly set it near the edge of his. He raised his eyebrows in confusion. "It's my turn to open the door today. Sorry if I took a bit longer," you murmured, giving a slightly embarrassed smile as you watched him blink slowly, clearly surprised by your words.

Jace looked at you with an understanding, even slightly soft expression, while mentally scolding himself. He knew that if anyone else had been late on that disastrous morning, he would have likely lost his temper over their mistake and irresponsibility. However, with you, he simply cleared his throat and brushed off the issue with a casual gesture, as if he couldn’t bring himself to be mad at you. He wanted to slap himself.

“It's okay,” he said, pulling away slightly as the rain fell on his wet back, realizing he had stuttered, and quickly regaining his composure once he saw your mocking look. “At least you showed up,” he added with a dry laugh, internally cursing himself when he noticed your change in expression. He really wanted to slap himself.

Jace hesitated, ready to say something, but you just shrugged and quickly started opening the gym door. He felt a small sense of relief, though guilt still lingered for rushing you. He watched you with a conflicted mix of gratitude and discomfort, unable to shake the feeling that he had been too hasty.

“What are you looking for in there anyway?" You asked with curiosity, holding the door open and stepping aside to let him pass. He offered a quick “thank you” before walking through.

“My science project,” Jace said, and you looked at him, confused, wondering why his project was in the gym of all places. “It’s in my father’s office,” he explained, trying to hold back a laugh as he saw your astonished expression.

“So you’re Coach Strong’s son?” you asked. He nodded and headed toward his father’s office, with you following closely behind. He seemed to enjoy your interest, and for a moment, he was so caught up with you that he almost forgot he was running late.

“So, do you know my father?” He asked, glancing over his shoulder as he pushed open the office door and stepped inside, slightly surprised to be talking so comfortably with a stranger.

You let out a light laugh as you watched him carefully pick up his science project, and you couldn’t help but blush when he flashed you a shy, awkward smile.

He was too cute to be true.

You shook your head. ��He coached my team when Coach Erryk got sick,” you explained playing with your hair, catching his curiosity as he approached the door. “I’m on the swimming team,” you added for clarity. He nodded, closing the door while glancing at you from the corner of his eye. He mentally chided himself when his gaze inadvertently lingered on your lips, confused by the sudden hormonal outburst.

Feeling his face flush, Jacaerys scratched his throat, trying to concentrate on the rhythmic sound of rain tapping against the gym windows. Although he was still slightly flustered, he found himself less nervous than he had been when he first arrived this morning.

However, his peace was interrupted as soon as the school alarm sounded, causing him to be startled and turn to you with an apologetic look, as if he had caused some trouble or was responsible for the interruption. At the same time, his eyes showed a trace of gratitude, as if you had done something good, which left you a bit confused, though you didn’t mention it.

“Well, I have to go,” he said softly, adjusting his glasses and giving you a quick, grateful smile. “Thanks again.” As he expressed his thanks, you noticed his anxiety increase after the alarm went off. His earlier composure seemed to slip away, leaving him visibly flustered and, despite his hurry, looking quite sad about leaving you there.

"You're welcome, I guess," you murmured the last part, watching as he gave you a final, hurried smile before rushing towards the gym door again. His science project was firmly tucked under his arm, and he moved with such urgency that he didn’t notice the amused look on your face. The scene seemed oddly amusing compared to his frantic energy.

Jace dashed outside, grabbing one of the soaked backpacks left near the door. He continued his frantic rush towards the main building, his mind focused solely on making up for lost time.

In his distracted state, Jace didn’t realize he had picked up the wrong bag. The backpack he now carried had a red pendant with your name on it, rather than the superhero charms he usually had. His preoccupation with catching up and the image of your face likely contributed to his mistake.

─────── ─────── ───────

"You haven't seen her since that day?" Cregan asked, his words slightly muffled by the food in his mouth, his eyes twinkling with amusement. He gave his friend a knowing look, far too entertained for someone who had heard the story at least five times. "So, this is why we've been having lunch here for the fifth time?" he added with a smirk, his gaze sweeping across the field near the gymnasium. Jace shrugged in response, trying—and failing—to hide the flush of embarrassment creeping up his neck.

The truth was that, yes, Jacaerys had been trying to find you for the past five days, hoping to exchange backpacks. He knew that the mix-up was entirely his fault; in his rush to get to class on time, he had barely noticed his mistake. It didn’t help that he had been distracted by you, the pretty girl he’d seen near the school gym. It seemed like everyone around him had already picked up on his sudden preoccupation, which made his attempts at subtlety feel almost pointless.

Baela had been the first to tease him after spotting the pendant on the backpack with your name on it, while Luke had turned the whole thing into a spectacle, loudly exaggerating the significance of it all. Jace could tell that even his mom had noticed something was up, probably suspecting that he had a crush. And then there was Cregan—always quick to find amusement in anything that promised a bit of entertainment even if he already knew everything, and in this situation he was no different. Jace wanted to kick him.

"I just want to hand over her backpack." Jacaerys replied defensively, leaning his back against the tree behind him while trying to ignore his best friend's gaze.

“So tell me why you didn’t just give the backpack to your dad?” Cregan asked with a wry grin, his voice dripping with irony. He pulled out a cigarette and a lighter, casually igniting the cigarette with a practiced flick. As he took a slow drag, he kept his eyes fixed on his friend, who was clearly struggling to keep his cool. 

Jace blinked slowly, struggling to reconcile his friend’s reasoning with the excuses he had made to avoid embarrassment. Despite his efforts, he couldn’t come up with a solid answer. Your image was so vividly imprinted in his mind that he felt paralyzed, unable to think about anything else, and even though he was reluctant to admit it, he was actually thankful for the backpack mix-up. It seemed like a chance to strike up a conversation with you, and he found himself caught between feeling a bit foolish and pleasantly surprised by the opportunity.

“Stop it,” Jacaerys said, clearly irritated after a moment of silence. Stark just laughed, letting out a stream of smoke from his cigarette. “You don’t know anything,” Jacaerys continued, pointedly ignoring the teasing look his friend gave him.

“That’s where you’re wrong!” Cregan said provocatively, lying down on the damp lawn, still soaked from the rain of the past few days. "You have a crush on her!" He hummed softly, propping his arms behind his head and slowly closing his eyes, oblivious to the upset and confused look on his friend’s face.

"I don’t!" Jace retorted quickly, adjusting his glasses as he spoke.

Cregan scoffed and rolled his eyes. Jacaerys might be smart in class, but when it came to his own feelings, he was totally clueless. Cregan even thought that he was friend was quite stupid.

“I’m not saying you’re in love with her!” Cregan said, clearly exasperated, as he stood up, giving his friend an intense look.

Jace’s frustration grew. “So what are you saying, then?” he snapped back, matching his tone.

Cregan threw his hands up in frustration. “I’m saying you think she’s pretty enough to kiss!” he exclaimed, placing a hand on his forehead as he let his cigarette fall into his lap.

Jace blinked slowly at the blunt accusation, his throat tightening. Cregan’s words hit home; he couldn’t deny that he found you incredibly beautiful, perhaps more than he’d ever admitted to himself. It made sense why you’d been on his mind since the day your paths crossed and why he found himself watching you so closely, drawn to your lips more often than he’d like to admit.

He blinked once again when he realized that his best friend was in fact, right. In fact, he had made his friend look up your name on every social network, realizing all the while that he hadn't exactly helped himself.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" Cregan asked with a casual hum, lighting another cigarette. "It’s not a big deal to have a crush on someone. I had a crush on Aly," he shrugged, clearly unbothered by the distressed look on his friend’s face.

"And now you like her!" Jace said, his voice edged with desperation as he grappled with his feelings for you. "Are you telling me I might come to like her?" he asked, his tone betraying a hint of fear, though he wasn’t entirely upset by the idea.

"Yes," Cregan said simply, taking a drag from his cigarette.

"You’re not helping me, man!" Jace hissed, pushing his hand under his glasses and rubbing his eyes in a futile attempt to clear the image of you from his mind.

"I know." Cregan shrugged again, watching Jacaerys with mild amusement as he continued to frantically rub his eyes. “You should ask her out!”

“What the fuck are you trying to say?” He pulled his hand away from his eyes and stared at his friend in disbelief, as if he had sprouted three heads.

“Relax, it’s just a thought,” Cregan said, a playful smirk on his face as he glanced behind his friend. “Actually, today might be your lucky day.” Without giving Jacaerys a chance to respond, Cregan dashed off, nodding toward the figure behind him and making heart shapes with his hands. Jacaerys baffled, turned around, and froze, holding his breath as he saw you standing right there hugging his backpack.

He could hear his best friend’s laughter fading into the background, but the moment his eyes met yours, it felt like time slowed down and his heart lodged in his throat, as if he had been swallowed by your presence. Everything around him seemed to vanish as he took in the sight of you standing there, your eyes meeting his with such an adorably confused expression that it made his chest tighten.

Jace was certain that breathing had suddenly become more difficult, his mind racing with thoughts of how beautiful you looked in that moment and how your eyes seemed even more pretty in the sunlight. He had to blink slowly just to refocus and prepare himself for the conversation that was about to begin.

“Hi!” you began, noticing Jace blink again at the sound of your soft yet cheerful voice. “Jace, right?” You tilted your head slightly, watching as he nodded with his mouth slightly agape, which made you let out a soft laugh. “Well, my name is—”

“I know!” he interrupted, his eyes widening slightly when he realized how loudly he’d spoken. He quickly cleared his throat, his cheeks flushing a deep red as he nervously rubbed the back of his neck. Despite his embarrassment, you responded with a light, amused laugh. “I saw your name on the pendant of your backpack,” he explained more softly, giving a small, forced cough to mask his embarrassment.

Thank goodness Cregan wasn’t there; Jacaerys knew he’d never hear the end of it.

“Oh, right!” You gave another soft chuckle, feeling a blush creep onto your cheeks as well. “I brought your backpack. Sorry it took me so long,” you added, your voice quieter now but still carrying that same cheerful tone. You watched as he stood up, a bit flustered, as he reached out to take your backpack.

“Everything’s fine,” he said awkwardly, now standing right in front of you as he stretched out his arm to hand you your backpack. You quickly mimicked his action, passing him his own backpack in return. “Did something happen?” he asked, his voice tinged with concern as he noticed the way you hugged your backpack tightly. His expression softened as he looked at you. 

You sighed, taking in the lingering scent of him that now clung to your backpack, a satisfied breath escaping as you savored the familiar trace. You met his brown eyes with an awkward smile. “I was sick the last few days, so that’s why I missed school,” you explained, your voice tinged with dissatisfaction. Jace responded with a soft, nasal laugh, his concern easing as he realized that you were now okay.

“Well,” he began, moving closer without realizing it, making you hold your breath. “I’m really glad you’re feeling better!” he said, his eyes showing he truly meant it.

“Thanks,” you said, trying to ignore the warmth on your cheeks and the closeness between you. He seemed oblivious to the proximity of your bodies in that moment, which made you clear your throat awkwardly. When he finally realized how close you were, his cheeks flushed as well. However, both of you felt a certain discomfort when that closeness came to an end.

“Well, I think I should go,” you said, taking a hesitant step back, not wanting to distance yourself any further. Jace’s eyes followed you, his expression showing concern and reluctance, as if he too wished the moment could last a little longer. Though he wouldn’t admit it, he didn’t want this to be the last time you both spoke.

As you turned to head back toward the gym building, he reached out and gently grabbed your wrist, making you look back at him in surprise. The touch was warm and comforting, and despite your confusion, you found yourself unwilling to move away from him.

“Is something wrong?” you asked, noticing how Jace swallowed hard before looking at you with a touch of distress, as if he were on the verge of doing something he’d never done before. His hesitation only made you tilt your head in curiosity. For a moment, you could have sworn you saw his gaze flicker to your lips.

“What time do you finish swim practice?” he asked, his eyes fixed intently on your lips. The question hung in the air, charged with a lingering, almost nervous energy as he struggled to keep his gaze steady. You were stunning in his eyes.

“Around 7:00 pm,” you replied, tilting your head slightly as you tried to ignore the blush creeping onto your cheeks. “But why do you want to know?” you asked, your voice filled with intense curiosity and a hint of excitement.

Jace swallowed hard, his gaze briefly falling to the ground as he gathered his courage.

“I wanted to ask you,” he began, his voice trembling slightly yet firm as he looked up at your flushed face. “If I could walk you home today?” He finished the question quickly, as if fearing he might lose his courage. Despite his evident nervousness, his gaze stayed fixed on yours, full of anticipation, and when he saw your face light up with a broad smile, a visible wave of relief washed over him.

“I’d like that,” you replied with a soft smile, your eyes shining with genuine enthusiasm as you watched Jace’s face light up in response.

“Great! I’ll see you outside after practice,” he said with a smile, gently releasing your wrist and waiting for you to head into the building so he could return to Cregan. However, as you turned to enter the school gym, you paused for a moment.

With a playful glint in your eyes, you turned back toward Jace and leaned in, pressing a light kiss to his cheek. The touch was brief but enough to leave Jace momentarily stunned, his cheeks flushing an even deeper shade of red.

“See you later then,” you murmured, your voice carrying a playful tone. Jace watched you walk away, his heart racing and a smile tugging at his lips. Cregan was right, he definitely had a crush on you.

─────── ─────── ───────

Jace stood in front of the school gymnasium, the sun beginning to set on the horizon, painting the sky in shades of orange and pink. He could barely control his anxiety as he waited. Swim practice hadn’t ended yet, but Jace was already there, ten minutes earlier than planned.

He leaned against the gym wall, his hands in his pockets, trying to appear calm. But inside, his heart was racing, and he kept glancing at the gym doors every few seconds, hoping to see her come out. His thoughts kept drifting back to the kiss you gave him on the cheek, and for a moment, he wished you had kissed him somewhere else, though he wouldn’t dare admit that out loud.

He tried to push the nerves aside, but it was impossible. The idea of spending more time with you, casually talking as night fell, left him restless, and he couldn’t help but feel excited about it. He’d never felt anything like this before, maybe because he had never talked to a girl for more than five minutes, and that made his nerves spread so much that he had been unable to focus in class all afternoon. Cregan, of course, didn’t help at all, making jokes about how Jace was ‘head over heels.’

Just as he was beginning to lose himself in his thoughts, the gym door finally opened. Jace’s heart skipped a beat when he saw you step out, your hair still slightly damp from practice but with a radiant smile on your face. And as he saw you from a distance, he couldn't help but smile back as you walked toward him.

“Hi,” you said softly, still a few steps away, your voice carrying the usual playful tone that made his cheeks flush involuntarily and his heart pound disproportionately in his chest. He didn’t quite understand why he was feeling this way; after all, you barely knew each other, but he was almost certain that whatever he was feeling, you were too.

“Hi,” Jace replied, trying to sound casual, but his voice faltered slightly, betraying the nervousness he felt. He stepped closer to you, a smile spreading across his face as he tried to find the right words. “How was practice?” he asked, offering you his arm, which left you momentarily confused, but the confusion quickly turned into another smile when he took your backpack and offered to carry it for you.

He was the perfect gentleman, and you couldn’t help but be charmed by it.

"The practice was pretty intense, but I'm glad it's over," you said with a smile, reaching for your backpack. Jace gently held it just out of your reach, giving you a playful nudge as he started walking, with you quickly following him.

"I'm sure you did great," he said encouragingly, glancing at his car as you both passed by it. He considered offering you a ride, but the thought of cutting short the time both of you could spend together made him hesitate. He wanted to savor every moment with you, so he decided to walk with you instead, making the most of the time you two had together.

As you continued walking side by side, a comfortable silence settled over you. Jace noticed the curiosity sparkling in your eyes and couldn't help but smile. With a playful raise of his eyebrow, he looked at you, clearly anticipating the question he knew was on your mind. It wasn’t long before you broke the silence, eager to speak. 

“So...” you began, humming thoughtfully. Jace’s amused gaze intensified, though he found it hard to keep his eyes from drifting to your lips. He had never wanted to kiss anyone as much as he wanted to kiss you.

“What’s it like to be Coach Harwin’s son?” you asked without hesitation or embarrassment. He burst out laughing at your question, leaving you momentarily embarrassed, but he quickly regained his composure and began to answer. 

The next few minutes were spent with you and Jacaerys talking about your parents, exchanging stories and a few harmless jokes about them, and you couldn’t help but notice how Jace’s face lit up every time he mentioned his parents and siblings. He was definitely close to his family, always speaking about them with a tenderness that was impossible not to notice, and in a way, it warmed your heart.

Yet, you couldn’t help but notice that in the middle of the conversation, his eyes kept drifting to your lips and then back to your eyes.

Around 7 p.m., you and Jace arrived at the front door of your house. He struggled to keep his composure, fighting the urge to kiss you as you pouted, clearly reluctant to part ways. The thought of saying goodbye seemed to weigh heavily on both of you.

"That went by too quickly," you said with a sigh, picking up your backpack with a slight frown. Jace laughed softly, his amusement evident despite the shared sentiment. He nodded in agreement, feeling the same reluctance.

"Well, it’s not like we won’t see each other again," he said, his cheeks tinged with red as he noticed your hopeful gaze. "If you want, I can walk you home again tomorrow," he offered. His smile grew wider as he saw the bright spark of satisfaction in your eyes.

"I’d like that," you murmured with satisfaction, your eyes sparkling with excitement. As you both stood at the door, he couldn’t help but notice how the streetlights made you look even more beautiful.

Taking a reluctant step back, Jace’s gaze softened as it met yours. "Great, then I'll see you tomorrow," he said, his tone light but sincere, trying to mask his nervousness and excitement for the next day. He took another step back, unsure of what to do next, trying to keep his gaze away from your lips.

"See you tomorrow," you replied, bringing him out of his brief trance with your voice laced with anticipation as you opened the door. Jace watched you enter, his smile lingering as he turned to leave.

Jace turned to leave, reminding himself that he still needed to retrieve his car from the school parking lot. Yet the image of you—your smile, the way your lips had lingered in his mind—made it impossible for him to focus on anything else. He walked a few meters, his heart racing and his mind swirling with thoughts about what had just happened and what would happen tomorrow.

The idea of going back felt almost impossible. Abruptly, he stopped in his tracks, struggling against the urge to go back. He bit his lip hard and muttered, “Oh, to hell with it,” to himself.

Without thinking twice, Jacaerys turned around and walked back to your house, his heart pounding with the adrenaline of each step and the sudden, almost reckless decision he had made. As he reached your front door again, he sighed and hesitated for a moment before knocking firmly.

“Jace, what are you doing here?” you asked, your voice a mix of surprise and curiosity as you opened the door. Your heart raced at the sight of him there, his gaze fixed on you. “I had to come back,” he said, his voice trembling slightly, still out of breath from running back.

“I need to kiss you. Please, let me kiss you.” His eyes, filled with sincere longing and a hint of vulnerability, searched yours for a sign of approval. Seeing how anxious he was, you nodded without hesitation, feeling his soft lips gently press against yours.

Your lips are pressed against his, and you cling tightly to the fabric of his hoodie, pulling him closer, which makes him smile slightly, satisfied. The kiss is gentle but filled with an intensity that makes the world around you both almost disappear. When you finally pull away a bit, your eyes meet as you both try to catch your breath.

Jace smiled, his cheeks flushed with a mix of embarrassment and delight. “I really needed to do that,” he said softly, his voice brimming with sincerity and a touch of nervousness.

You smiled back, feeling a warm flush on your lips from the kiss. “I’m really glad you did,” you replied, your voice filled with genuine appreciation.

He took a hesitant step back, still holding your gaze with a look of endearing affection. “I should go now,” he said, his tone laced with a subtle hint of reluctance. “But... can I still see you tomorrow?” His eyes, still fixed on yours, conveyed a mixture of excitement and nervous anticipation.

You nodded, your heart fluttering with a smile. “Definitely. I’ll see you tomorrow, Jace,” you responded warmly.

His face lit up with a contented smile, and he began to walk away, turning back once more to give you one last, lingering look. “See you tomorrow,” he said softly before he finally turned and walked off, a satisfied expression on his face.

And even though your first meeting had been far from ideal, Jace couldn’t help but feel it had turned out perfectly, especially since you were his first kiss, with him being excited to get to know you better.

2024 © do not repost or translate my work anywhere else.

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tag list: @earth4angels @hearts4li @ethereal-athalia @velaryonbastard @throughgoeshamilton

[gaysindistress]

What if Simon didn’t listen when Price told him to apologize to his girl before she does go off and find herself a better man?

a/n: This is technically part two for this list. You could read them separately but I really think you should read them both so you can fully feel the angst.

non-mcu characters masterlist

Taglist: @going-to-ikea-for-the-fries this is one is for you girl

Price stalks over to him and grabs him by the front of his vest, not caring that everyone can see what’s going on. “You call and apologize to her right now, ya hear me? It’s unacceptable for you to lie to her like that and I should have your balls for it. You fix it before she does go off and find herself a better man.”

Now let’s say that when Simon got back, things were….different. You rarely fought but now you’re bickering about every little thing and having full on battles of the will that leave you crying in the bedroom while he’s storming out. The connection between you two feels strained and distant where’s before it was warm and comforting. You barely look at each other and sometimes you think he’s straight up ignoring you.

Even the dogs have started to notice that there’s something off about mom and dad. Most nights you’ll sleep alone with the dogs by your door while Simon is on the couch. It feels like they’re laying in wait, ready to spring into action if anything were to happen. They don’t go to him as much as they did before and your female dog, Echo, refuses to leave your side. She’s become glued to you while your other dog, Zade, keeps you within eyesight at all times. It really pisses Simon off because Zade is supposed to be his dog and the mutt won’t even look at him (Simon’s words, not yours).

It all comes to a head though one night when Simon is trying to get Zade to come with him on a walk and the dog just stares at him. He doesn’t move. He doesn’t blink. He just stares into Simon’s soul and judges him for how he’s been treating you.

“Zade! Come here now!” Simon grumbles in a half shout but the dog doesn’t move a muscle. You’re in the bedroom with Echo at your feet and she glances over at you with a look that says ‘let’s go’.

What happened next is a blur. Echo barely makes it into the living room before she’s growling and placing herself between you and Simon. Zade is up and stalking closer to his sister’s side while Simon is growing more and more angry. You don’t think you even had the time to say anything before Echo and Zade tackle Simon to the ground. You know they wouldn’t hurt him but it’s still a terrifying sight and you’re doing everything you can to get the dogs off of him. You manage to get them off but they refuse to go to their kennels and keep tucked behind you, still ready to protect you if needed.

“Simon, oh my god are you okay?” You ask him in a panicked and high pitched voice as you try to help him up. He shoves your hands off of him and accidentally uses too much force which sends you to stumbling into the dogs.

Everything is absolute chaos with his anger, the dogs trying to protect you, and now you’re crying while trying not to tell him off. At this point you grab the dogs by their collars and pull them away as tears are streaming down your face. When they hear your sniffles, they immediately give into you and let you pull them to the bedroom. You don’t hear Simon as you start to pack as much as you can. The weeks of being on edge have finally gotten to you and you’re done.

You refuse to be in a relationship with a man who isn’t willing to communicate with you.

You refuse to be in a relationship with a man who used to be the most loving and devoted man you’ve ever met but now he can’t acknowledge your presence.

You refuse to be in a relationship with a man who’s come so far and has forgiven himself for the things he’s done but now he’s slipping back into his old self destructive ways.

You refuse to be in a relationship with a man who can’t be honest with himself and admit that he’s wrong.

You refuse to be in a relationship with a man who’s become Ghost.

You’ve tried having faith in him after he broke up with you but it’s rotting you from the inside out. It’s eating away at your heart, gnawing at your ribs with your flesh stuck in its teeth. This faith is liquifying the kindness and patience you once had. It’s changing you into an anxious shell of a coward who can’t stand up for yourself. Change is alright but this is not. This change is making you cruel and hopeless while it waits for you to become a faithless savage who devours whatever light touches you.

It’s only when you come back into the living room with your bags packed and the dogs ready to go that Simon says something to you.

He questions what you’re doing.

He doesn’t apologize.

“I’m leaving. We’ll figure out everything tomorrow,” you tell him as you find your keys.

“What do you mean?”

You stop. You stare at the front door with completely blank eyes. They flicker to him over your shoulder.

“I’m leaving you. I’ll call you tomorrow and we can figure out how to make it a clean break then.”

He doesn’t say a word. Neither do you after that.

He lets you walk out the door. You don’t ask him to fight for you either.

He lets you leave him. You don’t turn back either.

You meant to drive to your friend’s place but somewhere on the way there you pull over and cry until you feel like you’re going to pass out. Zade and Echo watch from the backseat of your car with their heads on your center console. They want to comfort you but there’s not exactly room for two 100 pound dogs in the front seat so they stay put. Your friend calls you frantically because she’s not home but tells you that you should come meet her wherever she’s at. As nice as it might be to get away, it’s not appealing to you at the moment so you call the only other person you know you’d be comfortable with right now.

A part of you knows it’s a mistake to call him and if Simon finds out, he might very well almost kill his captain a third time. The other part of you knows that John would be understanding and the calm presence that you want right now. He already checks on you regularly so would it be a huge surprise if you showed up on his doorstep?

As if he’s been waiting for this moment, John already has a guest room for you and has the back door open for the dogs to run around outside. They’ve met him before so they feel more secure with leaving your side although they both give him a warning look.

Now it’s important to remember that the entire time you’ve known John, you’ve been with Simon. John thinks himself a gentleman, albeit a bit gruff, but a gentleman no less so you’ve been off limits. Obviously he can’t ignore the initial attraction he felt towards you because you are an utterly breathtaking person and it would be impossible to not notice that. He’s tried to lock away the yearning that tugs at the marrow in his bones when he sees you but it’s difficult. It’s like asking a dog to stop begging; they might listen for a moment but they go back to it within seconds. Also during the course of your friendship, he’s come to know the absolute amazing person that you are and seen that you have the kindness soul he’s ever known. It didn’t used to hurt when he saw you but after that night you texted him to keep Simon safe after he broke up with you, it’s damn near unbearable. Simon told you to find yourself a better man and John knows he could be that man. He wants to be that man but only if you come to him. He won’t approach you or even hint at it with you. It needs to be you who seeks him out. It needs to be you who wants him. It needs to be you who asks him to be that man otherwise John would never be able to forgive himself if it all went wrong.

Nothing happens that night or at all for that matter during your stay with John. It was meant to only be a few days but with losing your house so suddenly and trying to navigate a world Post Simon, it ends up being a few weeks. You feel awful about it and promise that you’ll be gone as soon as you can. John always laughs it off and tells you to stay as long as you need. Secretly he’s growing accustomed to your calming presence and gentle ways. He adores how thoughtful you are when you have to work early and barely make a sound. He appreciates how you make him a plate and leave it in the fridge if he comes home late. He’s thankful that you’re comfortable enough with him to tell him about everything that’s going on.

John made a promise to himself that he wouldn’t bring up anything unless you said something first. Even when he wants desperately to know why you’re crying when you came back from Simon’s tonight, he won’t. Instead he offers you a cup of tea, a warm blanket, and some space while he busies himself in his shop outside. It absolutely destroys him to even think about leaving you alone in the living room but it’s the right thing to do.

Just as he’s getting ready to leave, your small voice stops him.

“Can…can you stay?” It’s unusual for you to not be confident in your words. It causes him to freeze to hear the uncertainty. “If..if you want.”

He smiles at the ground before turning to look at you and nod. You’re curled into a ball on the couch with your dogs at your feet but there’s space for him next to you. You lean away from the arm of the couch and he takes the hint. Settling into the space between you and couch, he tosses his arm over the back and lets you decide how to proceed. Against your logical head, you tuck yourself into his side with yours pulled around yourself and your head on his shoulder. His fingers itch to play with the ends of your hair but they stay tightly closed around the couch cushion.

“Thank you…for everything.”

“No need for that.” He murmurs with bated breath. He knows you can feel the tension, how could you not when you’re practically laying on his chest?

“One day you’re going to accept my thanks. It might not be tomorrow or the day after, but you will,” you say with a snort. He says that every single time and you reply with the same phrase every time as well.

John’s hand betrays him and starts to play with the very ends of your hair. You feel it just like you felt his strained breathing. It’s strange to feel affection from anyone else but from him, it’s…. welcomed. You don’t acknowledge it and he knows that you’re doing that for his own sake.

“Maybe,” he tosses back and his breath catches when you move closer to him. Your arm moves to wrap around his waist and stills when he tenses. It’s your silent way of asking for consent to hold him. “Love,” he starts and moves his hand away from your hair.

You move to look at him, resting your chin on his shoulder. He’s looking at you with such tenderness and warmth it makes your stomach flip.

“Do you have feelings for me?” You ask him directly, unwilling to be tossed around again. It’s abrasive and you know there’s a better way to have asked but it gets straight to the point.

John looks sick and a tight lipped smile pulls across his face as he tries to come up with an answer. “I…love I think you need to rest. There’s been a…”

“No. Answer the question.”

He glances down at your lips and that’s telling enough.

“Now isn’t the right time,” he whispers more to himself than to you. “You’ve just gone through…”

Cutting him off, you say firmly, “and that doesn’t mean I don’t know what I want.”

He can only stare at you with half lidded eyes and pray that he doesn’t break in front of you. His resolve is crumbling and it’s only thanks to his military service that he’s not throwing himself at you.

“I told him it’s over.”

John tries to interrupt you but you silence him with a pointed look. “I told him that I will always love him but that doesn’t mean I want to be with him anymore. I won’t wait around for him to figure his life out. I don’t deserve that. I deserve a man who knows what he wants and will communicate with me.”

Honestly it feels like his world is crumbling around him. You’re here snuggled into his chest and saying all these things which he knows what they mean but he can’t believe that you know what they mean. He can’t trust his own understanding of you and believe that you’d mean that.

“I need you to tell me what you want…now.”

You.

He wants you. More than anything in the world, John Price wants you and you’re asking him to confess that secret.

[flkwh0re]

Team Player

Pairing: Step-mom! Wanda Maximoff x Coach! Natasha Romanoff x Fem! Reader

Warnings: Age gap (Legal), Step-mom/Step-daughter relationship, Coach/Player relationship, Cheating, Manipulation(??), Threesome, Mommy Kink (W), Degrading, Spitting, Cum play(??), Fingering, Oral, Dom/Dom/Sub dynamic, Natasha has a penis, Unprotected sex, Brief breeding kink, Face riding

A/n: Love this dynamic, very odd unusual pairing tho 😭

Word count: 1,568

Today was the day of your final game of your college teams basketball game. You anxiously waited around for your dad to show, knowing he’d probably not. He always had some excuse like being busy at work, or having made plans already.

That was never the case though, it was always the fact that he was just pure lazy and didn’t give two fucks about you and the stuff you did.

It hurt you, it hurt you badly. Your step mom, Wanda, on the other hand was amazing. Stepping up to take his place any moment she could. You honestly didn’t believe how the woman married that man, but little did you know she only stayed for you.

Wanda had developed a small crush on you, then it grew. Anytime she watched one of your games, she’d have an aching throb between her thighs. Watching your skilled body move around the court, the sweat dripping down your body. The tone in your voice as you yelled at your teammates, trying to get their attention. You truly were the mvp of the team, and everyone adored you.

As you stood around by the door waiting for him, one of your teammates informed you that your couch wanted you in the locker room. You huffed and began to walk away from the entrance, until the door flew open. You craned your head around and there stood Wanda.

“Oh my god Wanda you made it!” You yelped as your arms flew around her body, your taller figure towering her. “I couldn’t miss my favorite girls final game, now could I?” She chuckled, earning a giggling and smile from you.

“I’d walk you to the gymnasium, but coach wants me. Plus the game starts soon, so I’ll see you after?” You asked. “Why don’t I come with you? I have something I wanna try on you.” She hummed, to which you shuddered and nodded with confusion.

What could she possibly want to try, were your thoughts while you two walked to the locker room. Her hand resting on your back, almost too close to your ass.

Once the two of you reached the locker room, you guided her into where your coach was. “Coach Romanoff?” You asked, the older woman turning around. “Oh hello Y/n, I needed to discuss some things with you before the game. Who’s this?” Natasha pointed to Wanda.

“Oh this is Wanda, my step-mom.” Wanda extended her hand to Natasha. “Nice to meet you..?” Wanda paused, “Natasha.” She responded. Wanda nodded, ��Nice to meet you Natasha.” Natasha nodded and took her hand, “Like wise.”

After a while of Natasha discussing game plans with you, Wanda’s hands rested on your shoulders. Massaging the tense muscles. “Detka, you’re so tense. What’s wrong?” She quipped, and you nervously eyed the two women. “I- just nervous I guess.”

You lied as well as you could, you knew it wasn’t believable thought. It was hard to hide the fact you had a massive crush on your step-mom, alone with your coach. You knew it was wrong, all so very wrong.

Natasha and you messed around a couple times, quickly shutting it down when you two were almost caught by one of your teammates. You didn’t know that Wanda knew though.

She had caught you texting her multiple times about non-basketball related things, but chose not to say anything. She did feel rather protective of you, which is why she insisted on coming with you to see Nat before the game.

Wanda hummed, then glanced up at Natasha. “I know that’s not the reason, it’s because your step-mom’s hands are rubbing across your muscles and your filthy coach keeps eyeing you. Such a dirty girl you are.”

A gasp escaped your lips, Natasha eyes painfully trained on Wanda. “What do you mean by that, Wanda?” She asked sternly, her teeth gritted.

“Oh don’t act like a fool, I know that you know you get Y/n here to whore herself out to you.” Another gasped came from you, Wanda’s fingers found your lips and pushed past them.

“Hush you little slut, don’t you act surprised either.” Whimpers escaped your lips, a groan erupted from Natasha. Wanda laughed darkly, her fingers toying with your mouth.

“Why don’t we help you out before the game? We can’t have you this tense before the game, it is the final after all.” Wanda suggested, and Natasha thought for a second before agreeing.

Wanda retracted her fingers from your mouth, earning a whine from you. Her hands slide down to the hem of your jersey, pulling it over your head followed by your bra.

Her long fingers tugged at your perky nipples, using your spit that lingered on her fingers to wet them. Wanda looked up at Natasha, “Don’t just stand there, get over here.” Natasha hurriedly walked over to the bench, sitting down next to you.

Her lips attach to your nipple, biting and sucking. As she did this, Wanda’s hands worked at your tense arms and shoulders. It drove you crazy having your step-mom standing behind you, while your coach was latched to your nipple.

Natasha’s hands wandered across your stomach, tracing your abs. Her hand then slipped past the hem of your basketball shorts, teasing your clit through your soaked panties. Her mouth left your tit, capturing your lips.

Her tongue tangled with yours, and you were so caught up in the kiss you hadn’t noticed Wanda moving to sit on the opposite side of you. Wanda watched the two of you as Nat pumped her fingers into your pussy, and your tongues dancing with one another. She also hadn’t failed to realize the prominent bulge in Nat’s pants.

She kneeled down in front of Natasha, unbuckling her belt and tugging her pants down. Wanda’s hand rubbed Natasha through her boxers, causing her to groan into your mouth.

Wanda pulled her boxers down, her cock springing free from its restraints. Wanda admired the woman’s size, her hands pumped at Natasha cock a few times. Her tip leaked with pre-cum.

Wanda’s lips wrapped around the coach’s cock, sheathing her cock down her throat. The sight of Wanda sucking off your coach quickened the arrival of your orgasm. Nat removed her hands from your panties, making a show of her cleaning them off. Even having Wanda lick your arousal off them.

“C’mon baby, come help mommy suck your coach’s cock.” Wanda suggested, as she grabbed your hand leading you to kneel in front of Natasha. Your tongue ran down Natasha’s dick, as so did Wanda’s.

You both took turns sucking her off, but Natasha was most fond of the way Wanda pumped the base of her cock and sucked her balls, while you sucked the tip of her cock.

With one final squeeze at the base of her cock, Natasha’s cum spurted into your mouth, you taking everything she gave. “Open your mouth, let me see her cum in your mouth.” Wanda demanded, so you stuck your tongue out. “Spit it into my mouth.”

You complied, trying your best to spit Nat’s cum into her mouth. Once you did, Wanda’s lips latched to yours. Your lips moved hungry against each other, cum dripping down both of your mouths.

Natasha pulled you to your feet, pulling off your pants and panties then, onto her lap. Giving you a searing kiss on the lips. Wanda took hold of Natasha’s cock, guiding it to your pussy. As you sunk down on Natasha, you whined at her size.

She began to bounce you on her cock, while Wanda took your hand and guided you to her pussy. Natasha lips suckled at your nipples, her fingers dug into your hips. You tried your best to finger Wanda as well as possible, but Nat’s erratic pace made all thoughts in your head disappear.

“M’ gonna breed this little pussy.” Natasha husked against your chest, throwing all abilities to think out the door. “Here, come eat mommy out while Natasha fucks you.” Wanda spoke up, aching for her own release.

Natasha helped you lay down, spreading her legs and shoving her cock back into you. Wanda straddled your face, her pussy hovered over your mouth. Your tongue flattened out past your lips, and Wanda began using your tongue to get off.

Wanda and Natasha shared a kiss as they both used you to get them own orgasms. Wanda furiously rode your face, while Natasha’s pace became unsteady. Her cock twitched, then her cum spilt from her cock. Yours and Wanda’s orgasms following quickly behind.

You lapped at Wanda’s pussy, drinking up all of her arousal. Nat pulled her cock out of you, your hole clenching around nothing. You whine at the empty feeling. “Hush baby, you gotta get out of here quickly. The game is about to start.” Natasha said.

Wanda quickly hopped of your face, then helped you collect your clothing and redress. She pressed a quick kiss on your lips. “You do good out there and I’ll reward you later on. Okay?” She whispered in your ear and you nodded, then she sent you on your way.

“What did you say to her?” Natasha asked as her eyebrow cocked. “Don’t worry about it coach, you better get out there too.” Wanda teased, and they both slipped back into their clothes.

Your team winded up winning the game, and Wanda kept her promise. Natasha also followed along.

Masterlist

[simpjaes]

Sunghoon calling reader bunny while they’re fucking please please please. maybe she had a high sex drive and always bothers sunghoon for cock but he doesn’t mind

warning: phone sex, implied fisting lmfao, reader is always horny

It's not that Sunghoon can't handle your libido or anything, it's mostly just that you're horny all the time and more often than not, at times he can't realistically take care of you.

You're quite demanding though. He also can't really say that he doesn't love that about you either. With the way he'll be presenting a new idea to his team and his phone will start blaring with repeated calls until he takes a step out with an apology, only to hear the way your fingers slip in and out of yourself with moans of his name.

More times than not, he'll see himself to the bathroom just to listen, just to admire how much you need him. How much you wish he could keep you and fuck you all day, every day.

A fuck bunny, is what you are, and you're fucking proud of it. ~ "Babe-" Your boyfriend interrupts the ringing in your ears through the muffled speaker. "Please, I'm with my mom." You whine, making a fuss all while moaning out, needing him more than ever at this moment. Your body feeling hot, needy, and insatiable for a cock that belongs to this specific, pleading voice. There's a small threat when you respond, one that always, always works on him. "Jay wouldn't be igno-" "Stop fucking bringing him up." Sunghoon whispers angrily into the phone, a door closing on his end. "Do you want to cum or not?" "Mhm-" You half moan, already close if he so much as demands it of you. "I have a minute, Mom thinks I've just gotta piss." Sunghoon explains. "How many fingers?" "Four." You seethe, wishing he'd let you use all of those toys that are abandoned, locked in his dresser. "Want more." Sunghoon can't help the way his cock jumps, knowing exactly how you look when you try to angle your body to somehow fit more. Such small hands, you could take it all if you manage to last long enough to need it. "One more." Sunghoon instructs, gripping himself through his pants, leaning against the bathroom wall and wondering if he needs to cum or force his arousal down before seeing his mother again. God, he wishes he was home. You really have him wrapped around all four of those slippery fingers, don't you? He hears you gasp, knowing you've fit the last finger in. "Push." He smiles through a bite on his lip, listening to your struggled breathing. "Push, bunny, you can fit more for me, can't you?" You do, feeling a stretch so painful that you let out a near animalistic cry. You feel yourself sweating, your pussy drenching each finger your right hand has to offer, and you push. "Now-" He catches a breath, squeezing his pulsing length once, already feeling the dampened spot leak through his pants. "Cum for me once, and stay there until I get home, okay?" You nod, knowing he can't see you but more than aware that he knows you'll do it. All for him. You'll do anything, everything, for him. Starting with the orgasm, ending with the feeling of emptiness until he makes it home and fills you up. Instantly, you shake, plunging and pushing as much into yourself as you can manage, listening closely to the way his line is silent. You love when he listens, love how he loves you back, fucking adore how his own mother would never know her son is so filthy good at getting you off. And, you keep that promise, dripping, drenching his bed and not moving a muscle after the fact. Even after he hangs up, you lay in your mess, playing with your clit through the sensitivity up until you feel you could take far more than all five of your fingers. On Sunghoon's end though, he's embarrassed. Walking around with his mother as if his cock isn't tucked under his waistband threatening him if he doesn't get home to fuck you soon. Thankfully, excuses are easy for such a clean cut and well-behaved man. Really, His mother doesn't even doubt him when he apologized and says he needs to get home. Not a single hug, barely even a goodbye.

[adelliet]

Marcus Acacius x f!reader

FORBIDDEN DESIRE

Summary: Your father's friend has returned to his hometown after a few years, and you finally met him, but despite your father's clear warning, you are dominated by desire rather than reason.

Warning: MDNI 18+, age gap (17 years and 40 years), unprotected sex (p i v), fingering, oral sex (f! receiving), handjob,

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You came to the kitchen door and waited for the guards to open it. When they did, you gently knelt down as a gratitude and then sidled up to the room. There was a table, full of sweet buns, grape wine and various types of fruit or pastries. On the end of the table sat your mother and father, laughing and drinking liquid from an iron cup. You'd bet all your gold that the liquid is a red wine, that your parents love so much.

As soon as they saw you, all their attention landed on you. You wished them good morning with a smile on your face and put one sweet bun on your plate. "How did you sleep darling?" your father asked with a sweet tone in his voice.

"Good" you answered firmly, but keep trying to stay nice and keep a warm smile on your face. This answer of yours may have been sufficient for your father, but certainly not for your mother. Mother senses are way more powerful than father's, as is known.

"Is everything okay sunshine?" this time your mother asked, bothering you from eating in quiet and peace. You chewed the bun and nod, not even looking at them. You were so focused on your plate that you didn't even have time to look anywhere else.

After your movement, which indicated that everything was supposedly fine, there was a moment of silence. The only thing that could be heard was the sound of cutlery occasionally touching the plate. An awkward silence began to spread through the air very quickly, and even the guards at the door began to chat among themselves.

The silence was suddenly broken by your father's inconspicuous cough, which was followed by a question you prayed you wouldn't hear for at least a day. ,,And what about men?" Did you find anyone that could be your future husband and follow my lead?"

Your lips left a long loud sigh. "Not yet father" this time, your voice was bitterly cold, you were obviously showing how you don't like this topic and how it makes you uncomfortable.

"Darling, you'll be a woman soon, your mother was getting married at your age and look where she is now!" Your father kept trying to cajole you and force you into marriage, but this was the last thing on your mind. "Trapped with a man?" you answered, making your father lost words and your mother's face cringe in anger. "I am not trapped sweetheart-" "Oh really? So you can go whenever you want wherever you want?"

You raised your voice a bit, but just enough to make the atmosphere thick. Your mother started boiling with anger, and you really make it difficult for her to stay calm and in her character. "Young lady, be careful with your words-" and just when your mother wanted to calm things down, you bursted out.

"You think this is what I want?" Live for marriage and forget what freedom feels like? You think I live just for men?!" You got up from your seat and slapped your hands aggressively on the table. "You're a woman!" You will never know what freedom feels like! The only thing you will have is your husband's safety!"

The words came out of your mother's mouth as easily as if she had been preparing for this moment years ago. They were sharp without any sweetness, making you froze in a place, not moving a single muscle. When you looked at your dad, he was just as shocked as you. Your mother still had that angry look on her face as she yelled at you the words that would wake you up from your sleep and haunt you in your worst nightmares.

After a few more seconds, your mom finally realizes what she has done, as she looked over to her husband. She takes a deep breath and closes her eyes, but before she could say something, one of the guards rushed into the kitchen with a simple words ,,He's here".

Your parents immediately stood up from their seats and looked over to the open door. Your dad looked excited and so did your mom. You were so confused. Who is he and why was his presence so quick to please your mother and father?

There were so many questions running through your head, and like everyone else, you were eagerly looking at the door, waiting to see who would appear. It didn't take long before you finally saw him.

A tall, large man stopped as soon as he got inside. His iron armor clung beautifully to his massive body, and the parts of his skin that could be seen were covered in blood. His hair was black and wavy, looking as fine as sheep's wool. His beard beautifully accentuated his masculine cheekbones and the gray particles only added charm. His look was frowning and stiff until he saw your parents.

At that moment, he raised his eyebrows and the corners of his mouth lifted. He called your father's name, deep husky voice that sends shivers down your spine. He opened his arms and your father ran towards him. They locked arms together and slapped each other on the back.

You just stared at them breathlessly, still unanswered questions drowning in your head. Before long you felt a gentle hand landing on your shoulder. "Marcus..." your mother said quietly as she kept her eyes on them. You looked over to see her calm face. "Best friend of your father..." now this was the answer you wanted to hear.

After the two finally pulled away from each other, the man's eyes landed on you. The smile on his face slowly faded away and he barely blinked. You held eye contact and even though you were standing quite far away from him, you could feel goosebumps rising all over your skin. His brown eyes looked so kind yet hungry at the same time.

"Marcus…" your mother finally stopped you and you looked down, coughing discreetly. Marcus also woke up back on planet earth and greeted your mother with the sweet smile he had before.

"We missed you" your mother said after she pulled away and held his massive strong arms. "You too, my favorite people" he said, looking into your moms face, unlike you, you couldn't take your eyes off Marcus.

It was as if the whole area became silent and everything was blurry, except for him. Your head automatically filled with million scenarios and you had to take a deep breath to breathe in the presence of this warrior. You scan his body and scars, pity began to flow through your body and you wanted to heal his every wound.

After a while your mother finally looked in your direction with Marcus and you froze in place. His gaze made you feel a vibrating feeling between your legs and you couldn't tell if you liked it or not.

"That's our daughter" your father noticed the awkward silence and decided to introduce the two of you. As Marcus made his way over to you, the vibration became more intense and you trembled like a bird. Marcus noticed your nervous attitude so he decided to, to calm you down a bit by grabbing your hand and gently kissing it, looking at you the whole time and honestly turning you on even more.

"My pleasure to finally meet you" he said as he let go of your hand and popped his chest like a proud lion. Finally? What does he mean? You've never heard of this man and you've never seen him, you would definitely remember that.

Marcus noticed your confused expression and immediately looked over to your father for an explanation, but he didn't do anything to explain it to you, he just decided to move on to another topic. As always.

"After all these years," he approached Marcus again, grabbing his strong arms and looking at him proudly. You kind of wish he would look at you like that one day, ,,…we need to throw a welcome soiree!" He screams so loudly, that the echo reverberated throughout the hall to the second tower.

Marcus was just smiling and you could tell it wasn't a sincere smile. Your mother immediately joined in and nodded in agreement. As soon as they finished talking, everyone started decorating the kitchen and making arrangements for meals.

You didn't want to oblige anyone, since you wouldn't be much help anyway, so you just snuck away to your room. When you walked past Marcus, who was having fun with your dad, his smell was indescribable. You've never felt anything like this from a man before. It evoked dominance, lust and respect, a respect that not just anyone deserves, but Marcus does.

As soon as you closed the door behind you and entered your room, the first and only thing you could think of was Marcus. How divine his body must be under all that armor, how strong his hands must be from all that warfare, how his fingers must be trained from his handling of the sword.

Just the image of him makes your legs shake and your stomach felt weird suddenly…weirdly good. You sat on the bed and just stared out the window, thoughts of Marcus still lingering and your imagination was much wilder than before.

You lay down on the bed with a loud groan and closing your eyes, as you bounce a few times on the mattress. You had no idea what was going on, with your head and your body. You couldn't even tell if you like it or not, the only thing you knew one hundred percent was, that these feelings are just because of Marcus.

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There were only a few hours left before the party started. All this time you tried to sleep and run away from all those new and scary feelings, but it still didn't work. You couldn't fall asleep and when you were really close to it, Marcus would always appear in front of you, even with your eyes closed. That's why you just lay there, staring at the ceiling and letting it all eat you up. When the hour finally approached, you were so relieved.

You heard muffled talking from behind the kitchen and decided it was time to leave. You opened your wardrobe and immediately knew what to wear. You've never worn these before, not because you didn't like them, but your father didn't like them and you know very well why.

They are way too revealing, but you think that he wouldn't say anything about them today, he wouldn't want to sink you in front of his best friend, right? With a devilish smile, you placed them on the bed and suddenly heard a knock on the door. You said open in a soft tone, looking at the door. Very slowly they cracked open and there was none other than your dad inside. He carefully closed it behind him and leaned against it.

You could tell by his face that he looked quite worried. You didn't want to anger him even more so you discreetly stood in front of the bed to cover that provocative dress. “Is everything okay father?” you asked, trying to figure out what was going on. He took a deep breath and looked at you. “I need to talk to you…about Marcus”

Your eyes widened a bit but not too much. It's quite understandable that he'll chat with you about him and maybe even explain why Marcus said he was finally happy to meet you, even though you've never heard of him. "I saw the way you look at each other and this must never happen" he didn't wait another second and spewed this at you.

You frowned at his naivety and the fact that you could have something more with Marcus. After all, you are still young bud, while he is a man of experience and has been through so much...yet this is not reason enough to erase him from your mind.

"Are you serious?" you asked your father arrogantly, folding your shoulders to your chest. "Yes, I'm serious honey. You know, Marcus is not the man for you" his voice sounded so convincing but you still didn't believe him. "You are the one who asks me about men every morning and when one comes along, you ban him?!" you raised your voice a little and threw your hands around. It just doesn't make any sense.

Your father looks down and took another deep breath. "Marcus Acacius is a warrior, a gladiator. He wouldn't have time for you and at the same time you would worry if he would survive. Also, his reputation with women is not flattering, even though he's the same age as me, he doesn't want to settle down. He loves freedom and fun, but you need someone who knows his priorities, do you understand?"

You were surprised by all of this information. Marcus definitely looks like a gladiator, but that's not the thing that scared you the most. His reputation with women? After all, he doesn't look like a man who would pay just for the experience and relief with a woman...or does he?

You tried to find the words to answer, but you couldn't think of anything. You had nothing in your head, just one man who seems like a poor old whore. Your father noticed your shock and even felt a little sorry for you. "Look, I only want the best for you, but Marcus just isn't the best" his words drove more and more wounds into your heart. It painted evil qualities into your imagination and even though everything seemed rosy after Marcus arrived, now is black and white and much worse.

"Do me a favor" your father slowly finished his monologue. "Stay away from Marcus" and with that he left your room leaving you completely devastated and destroyed. You felt tears running down your face but immediately wiped them away with your hand. A young lady like you can't cry, and certainly not because of a man. You didn't care about men until now, so how come you care so much about Marcus? You're not in love after all, are you?

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You walked into the main room where the party was being held. Everyone was already here, having fun and laughing, the music in the background pleasantly vibrated your eardrums and you tried to focus only on fun and freedom, nothing and no one else.

Even though your dad gave you a strict ban on any interaction with Marcus, you wore your sexy dress. After all, you have to use this opportunity one way or another. Of course, in that dress you immediately had the attention of almost all men and women.

It was eerily quiet for a moment when you walked in, even the music stopped playing. You don't like being the center of attention, so you tried to think of something to stop it. You slowly knelt down to greet and it really worked, the music started playing again and everyone was talking with each other. Sometimes, however, some would whisper in their ear while looking at you, but you tried your best to ignore them.

You came to the table with food and picked one grape berry. “Really interesting taste-” you heard a gruff wolf's voice from your right and quickly turned in that direction. Marcus looked even better than he did in the morning, he was well groomed, wearing a gorgeous white robe with gold accessories and his arms still looked so eatable. However, Marcus' words were stopped by another manly voice from the left, which was already familiar to you. "What do you think you're doing?!" your father was downright furious, looking you up and down. When you turned to look at him and revealed that Marcus was standing behind you, your father miraculously calmed down.

Marcus and you waited for your dad's next words. He was trapped, and that was exactly what you hoped would happen. You could feel how much he wanted to yell at you and scold you, but he can't show such an aggressive side of himself in front of his best friend, even at a party in front of hundreds of guests.

He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. "Marcus, come with me for a moment" he said and turned around thinking that Marcus was already following him. He looked a little surprised but the mischievous smile still remained on his face. As he passed by you, he gave you a subtle wink and you had a close enough to pass out on the spot. Who would have thought that a mere wink would almost give out your knees?

You watched as your dad pulled Marcus into a corner and said something to him. You could just see Marcus' face expression and couldn't hear what they are talking about. Sometimes he looked at you, but you couldn't describe what was going through his mind or what your dad was saying to him, you could only guess.

"That dress looks good on you" you heard a familiar female voice next to you. Your mother was looking in the same direction as you, but she was smiling. Her compliment only comforted you for a moment as you were still paying attention to the two men.

You let out an exhausted sigh and popped another berry into your mouth. "Marcus is a good man, honest and strong. You would be really safe with him" your mother's words caught you by surprise as she was of a different opinion than your father's. "But dad-" you wanted to say that just the thought of you and Marcus being together was destroying him but your mother interrupted you.

,,I know. He is worried about you, after all you are still young and Marcus is too old for you. You have to understand him, he's doing it for you" she patted your shoulders and walked away to her friends. She left you alone again and you were even more confused than before. You didn't know what to think about all this. Everything started to be suddenly too loud, the music and people's conversation gave you a headache and you had to get away quickly before you passed out.

You quickly stepped outside into the fresh air, trying to catch your breath. You leaned against the wall and all your emotions suddenly came out. Tears fell from your eyes one by one and you couldn't stop it. You wanted to run away, scream, you just wanted to be relaxed and free, but these are apparently too big demands. You sat down on the ground and curled up into a ball, hoping no one will find you in that state. What would they think of you?

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You have no idea how much time has passed since you ran out. But you don't care as long as no one is looking for you. You felt good, the cool wind blew through your hair and pleasantly refreshed your skin. Still sitting on the ground, you had your eyes closed and tried to focus only on the nature and the sound of the birds, even though it was quite difficult since you couldn't hear through the music and the sound from the party.

Suddenly you heard footsteps and in no time you were back on your feet. Chest popping, back straight and chin up. You were waiting for someone to show up around the corner. You expected your father, who is sure to be furious, or your mother, who is calmer but still worried. To your surprise, it wasn't neither of them.

"Where did you evaporate?" Marcus asked standing in front of you so he could finally get a better look at you in that unique dress. You opened your eyes in horror and your words got stuck in your throat. "I-I…" you tried to create a meaningful sentence, but how could you, when you were standing in front of the most handsome man you have ever seen in your entire life.

He noticed your struggling and couldn't help but giggle a bit. "Why are you nervous little dove?" he asked so softly, that the tone of his voice went through your every vein. The weird vibrating feeling between your legs started again, and you couldn't help but put your thighs closer. ,,I needed some fresh air" you finally whined in a shaky and low voice, but still trying to keep your attitude and show that you are not so nervous at all, but the truth was different.

"Understandable" he nodded his head and the corner of his mouth lifted. He stared at you for a moment until he joined you. He stands next to you, leaning against the wall watching the scenery with you. Even though it was quiet, you loved his presence next to you. You felt the feeling of security that every woman longs for.

"You don't want to enjoy the celebration?" you finally broke the ice and asked with all your courage, but you were still too nervous to look at him. "No, although it's surprising, I don't really like attention" he breathed out and you were quite surprised by his answers. ,,Really? Father was saying something else...” you said the second part of the sentence more quietly but Marcus heard you, despite the soft chatter.

,,Indeed?" you could feel his eyes on you, but you still tried really hard to keep your cool and not look at him, even tho you really wanted. His scent was so irresistible and you lost yourself for a moment, before the long silence slapped you on the head. ,, "Oh yes, he said you like to enjoy freedom and fun, even...with women" you weren't sure if you were supposed to mention the women, but somehow it just came out of your mouth without you being able to control it.

He scoffed and let out a small laugh. Now it was the perfect time to look at him. You saw his head shaking, like he doesn't believe what he just heard. "It's a surprise that I don't know about it myself" you frowned incomprehendingly and waited for an explanation.

When your eyes met, your heart skipped a beat and you stopped breathing. You saw his eyes up close and they were so lovely, just like his hair, face, beard, body...you were so obsessed with him. Is it even allowed to be so obsessed with a man you barely know and your father forbade him? Definitely not.

"Your father said things to protect you, to make you think bad things about me" This was exactly the answer you were hoping for, that it was all just a fabrication and that Marcus was a good innocent man. "Oh" you said and looked down at your feet. "And apparently he told you to stay away from me, am I right?" Marcus touched your arm softly, just by two fingers to make you look at him again, and it worked. He looked like a sad puppy who deserved to be scratched.

You just nodded in agreement, eliciting a soft sigh from Marcus. "He told me that too..." he slightly pushed himself away from the wall and stood in front of you again, this time much closer. Your back hit the wall and you were pinned to it, as Marcus stood only a few millimeters away from you, your chests almost touching. Your heart rate increased and your breathing quickened, your cheeks began to heat up and the vibration was much stronger than ever before.

"He specifically forbade me to have anything to do with you..." Marcus continued and his finger ran over your skin, from wrist, to upper arms, to your shoulders, stopping at your collarbones where he just make small circles. This was your first physical interaction with a man, and despite how scared you were of it, you melted at Marcus' touch.

His other hand gently squeezed your waist, making you gasp a bit by the surprise. He pulled you closer to his body, now you were definitely touching each other and you could feel something poking you into your thigh. You wanted to look what it was, but Marcus hypnotized you with his gaze and you just couldn't take your eyes off him.

"But I can't help it" and with these words he leaned closer to your face, your noses were touching and both of you were waiting to see who would kiss the other first. The situation was tense, you didn't notice anything or anyone around but Marcus and his warm breath against your wet lips.

You took a deep breath and the movement almost forced your lips to touch his, but it didn't. You were still waiting, Marcus' hands were now firmly on your hips and he had full control of you, he could do whatever he wanted with you, and you would let him without any word.

You were frozen but you fought so hard not to kiss him. Why? Because you really liked this game. You like all of this and want as much of it as possible. But Marcus is patient enough and as much as he wanted to break the barriers too, he didn't, instead he did something much hotter.

He released one hand from your waist and slowly slid it under your dress. You whined at the sigh of his touch, his massive hands surrounded almost your entire thigh. You were still face to face, noses touching but still no kiss, just touches. Really dangerous touches. He didn't stop in his journey under your dress and continued higher and higher, just where your throbbing cunt was.

You groan and moan, but quietly to not let someone caught you. Marcus loves how his touch drives you crazy, but you still had no idea what came next. When he finally found your sweet spot where you needed him touch you so badly, he didn't hesitate any second and insert one of his fingers into you. You throw your head back, breaking your kiss game but you didn't care.

The pleasure was indescribable. You saw sounds and felt colors, you bit your bottom lip to silence your heckling and crying, but it still didn't quite work. The way he curled his finger inside you made you wild, your legs shaking and your mind went dizzy. You immediately dug your fingers into his strong muscles for the better posture.

,,Marcus~”

You moan as he sped up his pace. He didn't take his eyes off you. You looked so beautiful like that, so weak, so hopeless. Just when you thought it couldn't get any better, Marcus added his thumb, making tiny circles around your clit. You've never experienced that pleasure like this before. You fight for your life not to scream his name and to stay on your feet.

He was stretching your walls while provoking your wet tiny friend, which if you just lightly touch, it will wreak havoc in your body. You felt the urge to go to pee, to burst everything that is inside you out, you were just so close to your orgasm. You had no idea what was going on, what it was, or why Marcus was so good at it, but all you could focus on was him and his fingers inside you, that were driving you crazy.

You looked at him as a guardian angel who would free you from the tense feeling that had accumulated in you over the years. Marcus knew you were on edge, your hole wrapped tightly around his finger and your legs automatically joined together. He smiled and continued in his motion, till you finally came onto his finger. A load moan came out of your mouth and your heart was beating at an incredible speed.

You opened your eyes and looked at Marcus, all sweaty and tired but relaxed. You both laughed for a moment and you wanted to rest until you heard quick footsteps coming your way. You didn't even have time to thank Marcus when you saw your dad and the guards emerging from the edge of the wall.

Marcus quickly let go of you and stepped aside, but you weren't sure if your father saw you so close to him or not. What you saw, however, was an enraged father who was boiling with anger.

He watched the two of you for a moment before he ordered the guards to take you back and grabbed Marcus by the shoulder. "Dad it's not what-" you wanted to save it, but it was too late for any words now. "I'll meet you at the party" he said and walked away with Marcus. You kept watched them, until the guards grabbed your arms and dragged you back to the celebration. You tried to break free from their grip, but it was impossible.

"Next time, you should obey your father's orders," said one of the guards, and you looked at him concerned. You wanted to say something to him, but you were already at the place. They let you go and closed the door, at which they then stood.

Shocked by the whole situation, you just stood there watching all the people having fun. Before long, your mother came to you, hugging you tightly and stroking your head. "Sweetheart, do you know how worried we were about you?" with tears in her eyes, she still didn't let go of her embrace. "You barely noticed I was gone" you replied arrogantly and gently pushed your mother away. You felt sorry for her, but right now, fury was controlling over pity.

You angrily walked over to the food table and stuffed one berry after another into your mouth as if you hadn't eaten in a month. After a while, the door you came through opened and your father and Marcus walked in. They were both smiling, even though you knew they weren't just talking outside. When Marcus noticed you, he gave you an apologetic look before walking to the other side of the hall. The only thing on your mind right now was a question, why is life so unfair?

"Hey easy there sweetheart" a manly voice pulled you away from staring at Marcus and you immediately turned to the direction the voice was coming from. A tall man with brown hair and a beard, he looked slimy and even smelled like that. Just his presence so close to you bothered you. You ignored him and ate a few more berries before he talked to you again, "Are you in a hurry or just really hungry?" he laughed like it was the best joke of the year. You just rolled your eyes in annoyance and wiped your hands into your dress. "Actually yes, I'm in hurry. Pleasure to meet you" you politely avoided him and quickly rushed to the other door, the one that lead to your room. You quickly opened them and breathed a sigh of relief as you were in the hallway, only to find the man was following you.

"Come on angel, we barely know each other" he said and still followed you. "I'm sorry but I'm not interested" you still politely rejected the man again and quickly walked towards your room. But that didn't stop him. You don't even know how, but suddenly he was right behind you, grabbing your wrist and pressed you against the wall. You started to panic.

"Please let me go!" you begged and hoped he would stop. You had a million scenarios in your head of what would happen, what he wants from you or what he will do to you. But his look says it all, he doesn't want to just talk to you. "You'll love it, don't worry" he said with a sickening smile on his face and started to undo the waistband of his pants. You started to cry and you knew that screaming for help was futile. He could strangle you with his hand or just cover your mouth and no one would be able to hear your cry for help. This is not how you imagined the loss of virginity, this is not how you wanted it.

Just when it seemed like this was going to be the most traumatic day of your life, Marcus burst into the hallway. You both turned your head to look at him and you finally had hope. You smiled but you were the only one. Marcus worried face transformed into furious in a second, as he saw that man standing too close to you, and your eyes full of tears.

"Get lost!" We have our moment here!" The moldy sweaty man yelled at Marcus, thinking he was really going to let us go. Of course he didn't. "If you don't let her go now, you'll face the consequences" he warned the man as he slowly approached to you. As if every step of his made you feel more and more happy and relieved.

"Jesus Christ just leave us alone idiot!" Marcus ran out of patience and ran after the man. He grabbed him by the shirt and forced him to back up to the other side of the hall, directly across from you, where he pinned him to the wall.

"Now listen to me carefully, you touch her one more time and you won't have such a clean face after that, is that clear to you?" you watched Marcus warn the man and you really respected him. When Marcus gets angry, he can be really scary. The bastard didn't say anything, he just looked at Marcus in horror and didn't know what to do.

"Is it clear?!" Marcus shook him aggressively and the man immediately nodded his head. He must shit his pants right now. "Now get lost!" he ordered and finally let him go. The guy didn't wait for anything and ran back to the door as he fastened his belt. When Marcus and you looked in his direction, you saw your dad watching you. Neither of you noticed him until now, you had no idea how long he had been standing there staring at you, but apparently long enough for him to change his mind about Marcus.

Your father came over to Marcus who thought he was in trouble again but instead of yelling he got a warm hug. Marcus was confused just as you were, but it was a nice picture to see them hugging again. After a while, your father finally released Marcus from his arms, admiring him with a smile. "I was wrong. I acted immaturely and rashly” came out of your fathers words and you were just shocked. "You are perfect for my daughter.”

With those words, you and Marcus smiled and you quickly ran towards them. ,,Are you serious father?” You asked incredulously, but your father nodded. "Yes, even though your age is intimidating, you can protect her and that's all that matters” You looked excitedly at Marcus and he looked back at you. "Thank you," Marcus added, giving your father one last smile before looking at you and kissing you without any warning. It was a long, passionate kiss that said a lot more than I love you. It said I want you.

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

Celebration of Marcus return was over, and the two of you just couldn't wait anymore. You were in your room, lips glued together and small moans leaving your mouth. The kisses were so wet, hungry and full of lust, that you had. "From the moment I saw you" Marcus said quickly between the kisses, trying to catch his breath. During this he slowly forced you backing up until your feet hit the bed frame. "I wanted you".

He said before gently pushing you onto the bed, making you bounce a bit. You smiled at his flirtatious words before his lips touched yours again, both of your saliva mixing together, making an amazing tasteful fluid. His tongue pushing into your mouth so roughly, almost choking you.

His hands traveled all over your body until he finally found the buttons of your dress, which he immediately used and very aggressively removed them, almost destroying them. You gasped as the cool fresh air touched your naked skin and Marcus needed a minute to admire your body.

“Where have you been all this time?” he asked desperately and immediately lunged after you again, his male instincts running wild as he grab your breast and squeezed, making you whine his name really loudly. You were in holy heaven, every touch of his on your body turned you on more and more and just the thought of how he had made you feel before, drives you crazy.

"You've never touched yourself, did you?" he whispered in your ear while slowly driving his finger down to your hole. You couldn't answer him, just a quiet whine came out of you. "Don't worry, that's why I am here for" he said before he put a finger inside you, your back arching and you firmly grab the pillows on the bed.

,,Oh my god~”

You groan and look at Marcus, totally crazy about your moves. Your hips were automatically moving against Marcus' hand, trying to bring more friction. He did as your body wanted, and added another finger, stretching your walls and making your fluid leak a bit.

Your moans were a lullaby for Marcus ears, making sure that he is doing his job well. His fingers teasing the inside of you, the juicy sound echoed throughout the room. But suddenly, he stopped and pulled out his fingers from you. You sighed at the loss, confused and overwhelmed. You looked at Marcus, watching him what he is doing. He knelt in front of the bed with a devilish grin on his face and moved you closer to him. More specifically, your vagina closer to your face.

“W-what are you doing?” you asked, leaning your elbows on the bed so you could see Marcus over your body. "Relax, trust me" he said and you did. You really trust Marcus, and definitely after he stood up for you. No one, no man, no human ever did something like that for you. You respect him a lot, but even more now that he's sticking his tongue inside you. You suddenly winced and grunted. His wet tongue entered into you so lightly, it was like a natural lubricant.

Instinctively, you grabbed Marcus's wavy hair and tugged on it as he slid his tongue in and out of you, making you whine his name. He kept his eyes on you, watching you as his victim, which you were in this situation. He held your hips so you wouldn't move too much and have the full experience as it should be.

His nose bumping into your clitoris from time to time, making your vision blurry. You heard the ringing for a moment and all your senses stopped. The only thing you could feel was Marcus's tongue inside you, touching you that spongy spot, which is making you getting close to realise.

After a few more movements of Marcus' tongue inside you, you couldn't take it anymore and you came right into Marcus' mouth. You gasped, trying to catch a breath as your legs shook. Marcus drinks all of your juices and you ride the orgasms off by his big nose.

You close your eyes, trying to calm yourself and your body down, while Marcus stands up from his position and gets on top of you. He knew how tired and exhausted you are, so he wanted you to catch a little break. He was giving you sweet little kisses all over your body and most often on your tummy, making you laugh a little. "Relaxed?" he asked and you jerked your head up to look at him. "There is more?" you asked in shock and Marcus just smiled at your innocence.

He nodded and crawled more up, so that he was face to face with you. His muscular body covered you all over, his scent tickling your olfactory cells. You just caressed his face. You felt his beard gently scratching you against your palm. It didn't hurt, on the contrary, it was pleasant.

“Are you ready for true passion?” He hummed and you looked at him in shock. You probably knew what he was pointing out, but you still weren't sure. You nodded your head a little apprehensively, but Marcus immediately calmed you down with a passionate kiss.

It wasn't long before Marcus' clothes were on the ground. You didn't care where, the main thing was that it was gone and you could finally feel his hot body on you. You couldn't help it and your hand traveled all over his body, your brain trying to remember every part of him, muscle, abs or just mole. He was perfect.

As the two of you kept touching yourself with hands, you felt something really big poking your inner thigh, dangerously close to your core. You slightly and gently moved Marcus away from you to take a look, what is it that provokes you so much. Your eyes nearly fell out of their sockets at the sight of Marcus' cock. He was big, massive and literally begging to fuck you already.

His precum already leaving from his pink tip, his veins were really filled and all you wanted to do was touch him, which you did without permission. You gently touched him with your fingers and Marcus immediately responded with a soft exhale. "Careful" he warned you, watching your hand on his penis. You took Marcus's warning to heart and followed his veins really gently with your index finger.

"You know what to do?" another heavy exhale from his lips, and you stopped to look at Marcus's face. You shook your head, a little afraid that he would laugh at you, but that didn't happen. Instead he took your hand and helped show you how. He carefully covered your hand and forced you to wrap yours around his cock. Your touch really turned him on but he had to hold back. "That's it, now you're gonna do this" he started moving your hand slowly, up and down with a slow pace. You quickly check Marcus face, that was squeezed and his teeth were dug into his lower lip.

"Perfect, clever girl..." he whine softly and throw his head back. You continued in the motion that he shows you, really focused while checking his face from time to time. You could tell that he likes it, but you wanted him to love it. You decided to speed up a bit and wrap your hand more tightly around him. He moaned your name, gods name and just sweet things you couldn't even register. One of his hand was on your waist, squeezing it, making you jump a bit.

"Oh my..." he moaned, digging his fingers into your skin while his lap was rocking against your hand. "Fuck!" He screamed and reached his climax, spraying a white gooey liquid all over your stomach. You were horrified but in a good way, you liked these new things you were exploring more and more.

After Marcus finally came to his senses, he smiled at you and stroked your cheek. "You learn fast little dove" you giggle by that cute nickname and your cheeks were so hot suddenly. "But we are still not done yet" and with these words he slowly began to insert his cock into you. You knew it was big but no one prepared you for this pain. But Marcus was a respectful man and always waited for the pain to pass and then he continued. This was repeated a few times until he was finally fully inside you.

He kept saying nice things to you to calm you down mentally and physically and it really helped. When he was 100% sure that you were fine and ready, he slowly began to move his hips back and forth. The pain immediately turned into pleasure, his cock slightly brushing your folds and it make you wanted more. You started moving your hips along his, giving him a clear sign that you are ready for more. Therefore, he quickened his pace and his emphasis as well.

His balls were clapping against your ass, the juice sound started being loud again but not as loud as your moans and gasps. You clawed at Marcus's back with your fingernails, they must left a bloody mess. Marcus was squeezing your hips so hard that he was sure to leave some bruise there, but neither of you cared.

He was stretching you so hard, finding and hitting that sponge spot again, and you immediately knew you won't last long. You felt so tight, like someone was strangling you down there and in your lower abdomen until Marcus exploded and rammed deep into you all the way to his balls. This was your last straw and just seconds after his orgasm you reached it too.

A few dirty words were exchanged until Marcus collapsed next to you. Both of you were tired, exhausted, sweaty and struggling to catch your breath. You felt amazing, this was the best thing you could ever experience and you can thank Marcus for that.

You turn your head towards him, his eyes were closed and his nostrils big. He was sleepy already but you weren't surprised, you were also ready to fall asleep. You crawled closer to Marcus, waking him up a bit. He immediately assumed his position as a caring partner and covered you both with a blanket. He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you closer to him and you purred appreciatively. "You're amazing darling" he whispered and placed a soft kiss into your hair. If this is the security that your father was talking about, then you have more than enough.

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

[shanastoryteller]

Dean’s minding his own business, sipping on a beer and leering at the bartender, when a guy that admittedly has about four inches and a good twenty pounds of muscle on him storms over and shoves him in the arm.

He tenses, getting to his feet and preparing for a fight even as he’s wondering what he did to piss him off. Maybe the bartender’s his girl? Jesus, Dean was just looking, he can’t get mad at just looking when his girl look likes that.

“Dude, what the hell?” the guy demands. “I know you’re pissed at me right now, but just leaving me back there – do you know how many bars it took to find you? You’re a jackass.”

He’s not taking a swing, instead standing with crossed arms – fuck, this guy is huge, he’d really like to avoid a fight here – and scowling at him, his long hair falling into his eyes as he looks down at him. Dean wishes he had any idea what was going on right now. “Look, man, relax.” The guy’s eyes narrow, his shoulders lifting and expanding as he takes in a deep breath, as if he needs any help to look bigger. Before he can say anything, Dean adds, “I think you’ve got me confused with someone else.”

He rolls his eyes. “Yeah, okay. Fuck off.” He presses his lips together, somehow appearing smaller in the next moment without actually moving. “Look, I know you’re mad about heaven, you’ve made that pretty fucking clear, but you can’t just walk off and turn off your phone. I figured you were just being an ass, but something could have happened to you. If you’re ignoring me, at least let me know you’re ignoring me.”

The guy doesn’t look like he’s tweaking, or suffering some sort of head injury. His eyes are clear and his voice is steady. But Dean has no idea what he’s talking about. “Dude, you’ve really got me confused with someone else.”

“Dean!” he snaps, which woah, okay, he wasn’t expecting that. “This isn’t funny.”

“I’m not laughing,” he says. “How do you know my name?”

He stares at him, uncertainty entering his eyes for the first time. “Are you feeling okay? You didn’t come across Zachariah or a witch or something in the past couple hours?”

He doesn’t know who Zachariah is, but the casual mention of witches makes him frown. Is this guy a hunter or something? He figures he’d remember meeting him, but maybe not.

“Everything okay over here?” Dad’s hand lands heavily on his shoulder, and Dean shifts enough to see him giving the guy a hard stare that has sent more than one man running in the other direction.

Dean almost rolls his eyes – he’s thirty one years old, he doesn’t need his dad coming over to save him – but he makes the effort so rarely that Dean can’t help but be warmed by it.

The guy pales, mouth dropping open as he stares at Dad like he’s seen a ghost. “You – Christo.”

Okay, definitely a hunter. Dad raises an eyebrow. “I’m not a demon.”

The guy grabs for Dean, yanking on his hand. Dean jerks back, but he’s already gotten his long fingers around his ring. He pulls it off and Dean is about to break his jaw to get it back, but he tosses it to Dad, who catches it on instinct. Dean doesn’t get it until he does. His ring is silver. He’s checking if Dad is a shifter, which okay, that’s one thing. Dean’s more concerned about how he knows his ring is silver. The guy’s voice cracks when he says, “Dad?”

Dad raises an eyebrow. “I think you’re a little confused.”

“Dean, what’s going on?” he asks, grabbing onto the sleeve of his jacket. Dean should push him off. “What,” his gaze drops down, and if possible he goes even paler. “Oh. Oh, fuck.”

Dean looks down, sees the guy’s eyes stuck on his amulet. “What?”

“I don’t understand,” he says, biting on his lower lip. “Is this some sort of – but you’re still hunters. Is Mom alive?”

Dean flinches.

“Okay,” Dad says. “That’s enough. You walk this off or whatever, but you do it somewhere else–”

“Dad, it’s me,” he says plaintively. “It’s Sam. Your son.”

Dean doesn’t remember moving, only that the next moment his hands are fisted in the front of this asshole’s shirt, his blood thrumming under his skin. “Shut up. Shut the fuck up.”

He puts his hands on Dean’s wrists, stupid earnest and soft and Dean’s going to kick his ass. “Dean. It’s me. I have to exist in this world, right? The demon was after me, if I wasn’t here then there wouldn’t have ben a fire, Mom wouldn’t have died, you guys wouldn’t be hunters. I have to be around somewhere.”

Dean tries to shove him away, but he won’t let go of his hands. “Shut up! You don’t – don’t talk about my family.”

The worst thing he ever did, his biggest failure. Sometimes the weight of it gets to be so heavy that it feels like it should be cracking his ribs, pressing his heart until it bursts. Sometimes he wishes it would.

He swallows before letting go with one hand and reaching into his pocket to pull something out. It takes Dean a moment to see it’s his amulet, the one he’s worn since he was twelve years old, back when Bobby still talked to them. “My name is Samuel Winchester. I was named after my mother’s father. I was born on May 2, 1983. When I was eight years old, Bobby gave me this amulet. He said it was a protection charm. I was originally planning to give it to Dad for Christmas, but he didn’t show up. Another in a long line of disappointments, right? So I gave it to you instead. Because even when you’re being a jerk, you’ve never let me down.”

Dean’s eyes are burning. He tries to shake off his grip, but he won’t let go. Why is Dad just standing there? “Stop! Stop. I don’t know what game you’re playing–”

“No game,” he says, gentle voice a counterpoint to the grip that’s absolutely going to bruise. “I need you to believe me, Dean, please–”

“My brother died when he was six months old,” he cuts him off. “Samuel Winchester is dead. He’s been dead for twenty six years.”

His fault, his fault, all his fault. If he’d just listened to Dad –

“Not where I’m from,” he says, and it’s crazy, it’s all crazy. “Please. Ask me anything. I’ll prove it. Hell, let’s go to a clinic, we can take a DNA test. I’m Sam. I’m your brother. And I need your help.”

“You mentioned a demon,” Dad says quietly.

The guy, who’s not Sam, who can’t be Sam, tears his eyes away from Dean to look at Dad. “Yeah. Azazel. The yellow eyed demon.”

Dad rubs a hand over his mouth. “I never told anyone about that.”

Dean snaps his head towards Dad. “What? You said you didn’t know what killed Mom! That we were searching for it!”

“We are,” Dad says. “It never resurfaced again. I’ve been looking for the signs.”

The guy frowns. “He started up again when I was twenty two.”

“Not here,” Dad says, looking him up and down, something hungry in his eyes.

Dad believes him. Dad thinks that this is Sammy.

“Let’s discuss this back at the room,” Dad says. “Come on.”

He heads towards the door, sure that he’s going to be followed. The – Sam, maybe Sam, he rolls his eyes, but goes after him. He only stops when his grip on Dean’s wrist jerks him back, because Dean’s not moving, can’t make himself move. He flushes, letting go of Dean finally, but he takes a step closer. His eyebrows pull together in concern, and now that Dean’s looking, he sort of sees it, sees the planes of Dad’s face and his eyes in this stranger with his brother’s name. “Hey, are you okay?”

No.

“Let’s go,” he says, striding forward, shoulders hunched.

Sam falls into step beside him easily, matching his strides like it’s second nature. Dean swallows around the lump in his throat and tries to pretend it means nothing.