#please i need to go every week again my body is begging for some love

[zlut4rina]

Under Pressure

Storyline: Under tables and under pressure. Wasn't long till 'she' finally had enough of their peering eyes.

Pairings: G!pCeo!Karina x Secretary!Femreader

Warnings: straight to smut, sight plot at the end angst(?), slight breeding kink, oral sex, unprotectedsex, that's all tbh.

Note: I love you, kockrina 🤤🤓😍 she's also kinda mean n confusing 😒.

Word count: 3k (Finished this in the middle of math class, half of my English💔)

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The office was quiet, almost as if everyone had an off day. But deeper into the building, at the top floor. If you were nosy enough, you’d hear faint sounds coming from your bosses office. One would think she was busy taking calls and signing papers. Oh, she was busy. Just not with the kind of work that’ll help grow the stocks.

“Oh fuck, y/n” Karina, your boss. Was moaning your name. This wasn’t anything new to you. You guys had been something going on between the two of you the second you took the interview for this job. Her fascination and interest in you only grew as tike went on.

She reached down to your head, gripping some of your hair she changed your movements to match her desires. You were under her tables giving her the best blow job she’s had this week. Your reason for being under the table was just because she wanted you there. You both found it hot, so why not? It’s not like anyone is going to come in without permission.

Her jaw hung open as she used your throat. Her movements gradually sped up, becoming sloppier and more desperate. Thrusting into your mouth, hitting every spot. Her grip on you became tighter. And her moans grew louder, biting her lip and shutting her eyes as tight as possible. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” Each thrust gained its own name. It slowly became too much for you, holding her thighs as tears rolled down your cheeks. Poor baby, it felt too good even when it hurt a little. You’d do anything to please her, whether it meant dealing with her being rough just a little. Every now and then.

“You gonna take it all, baby?” she looked down at you with a smirk. Noticing the way you looked down on her, she found it so cute. Gently stroking the hair out of your face. She hung her head back with her mouth open wide. You focused your pleasure on her sensitive areas. Sucking and licking her tip, sending her over the edge. Shoving your head down to take all her length. She came down your throat with a long groan. Slowly riding out her high, she trusted into you at a steady pace. Letting go of your hair, you lifted your head up. Sticking your tongue out to show you did exactly what she wanted. “Fuck your so cute..” She spoke dragging her thumb down your tongue. Pushing it in making you suck on her again. Locking eyes with her as you continued to mimic your previous movements, on her fingers. She stood up and took her thumb from your mouth. A faint popping sound could be heard. You stood up with her moments after. Pulling you into a heated make out she began to tug at your clothing, Unbuttoning your pants as her tongue explored your mouth.

When she finally undid your bottoms, she stuck her hand inside. Feeling how soaked you were through your panties. She sighed into the kiss, the feeling of your juices coating her fingers drove her insane. “Just for me, huh?” She spoke into the kiss. Smiling at you when you responded with a whine and a lip bite. Breaking away from you, she began to trail kisses and licks down your jawline and neck. She drug her fingers through your wet panties as she did. You put your hands on her waist to balance yourself, feeling yourself get weaker by the second. Grinding your body on her fingers, as desperate, needy sinful sounds came from your mouth. Your body practically begging for her to touch you more. She bit marks on your neck and collarbone. Usually she’d be opposed to things like this, wanting to keep things as professional as possible. But she had to mark you. She needed to let everyone know who you belonged to.

She slowly tucked her hand into your wet panties. Running her fingers through your folds. “Only I can get you like this, baby” trailing kisses from your collar bone. She pulled away to admire her work below. Biting her bottom lip as she looked up at you. Your eyes shut closed, and your chest rose heavily. “so cute...” her hand reaching to your chin, making you lock eyes with her. You whined under her touch, nails digging into her sides. She pulled back from you completely, leaving you empty. You pouted at her disappearance. “Take em off.” She sat back into her chair and crossed her arms. Looking up at you in anticipation. You hesitated at first, she’s never asked for anything like this. You slowly started to remove your blazer. It fell to your feet, and you kicked it away. Your usual shyness disappearing during the act. You started at your top button, slowly undoing each one as you made your way down. You slipped out of your shirt, leaving you in your bra. Karina watched you closely, looking you up and down. You reached for your bra until she stopped you. Shaking her head, “Let me” was all she said. And it sent shivers down your spine. With a nod, you focused your attention on your bottoms. Your pants already being unzipped were easy to slip out of. You pulled them down to tour ankles and kicked them from beneath your feet.

She didn’t hesitate to pull you close by the hem of your panties. She began to kiss and nibble at your skin. Licking and leaving marks in places she’d only know. Caressing your hips and tugging at your remaining clothing. She was desperate, but she wasn’t going to let that be known. Humming against your skin as she tasted you, her fingers reaching into your garments again. Rolling your silky wet clit in circles. You gasped at the intense connection, your hand gripped her hair. Pulling her face closer to your body as you tried your best to remain standing. She took her hand out and began to slowly pull down your pretty pinky lacy panties. As they slowly went down she began to kiss lower and lower as they slipped. She took them from the floor and placed them into the drawer in her desk. “You know who you belong to right?” She began to kiss you again. Retracing each mark she previously made. You nodded and let out a breathy ‘yes’. “Please … Jimin ..” your voice was soft, filled with desperation. Stroking her hair as she left her signature all over your body.

She brought her face lower, giving your clit a long, slow kiss. “So pretty” she whispered, her breath colliding with your heat. She drug tongue through your soaked slit, till she reached your clit. Sucking so agonizingly slow. She began to lap up every fluid she could reach. Gently entering her tongue in and out of you. Gaining a long moan from you each time. The way she admired your face changes with each movement of her muscle. It felt too good, grinding on her face in gentle yet desperate patterns. That was until she pulled away, not giving you a chance to react. She lifted you up and rested you down on her desk. Luckily there wasn’t anything in your way, making it easier for her. “You think they’d flirt with a pregnant lady?” she leaned close to your ear and whispered. Though you couldn’t see but you could tell she was smirking. Sending kissed down your jawline and neck Till she reached your chest. Where your matching lace bra sat. Cupping your breast perfectly for her. She almost didn’t want to take it off, you looked too good. But alas she wanted to touch you, feel every inch of your being.

As she kissed your upper half, she slowly unclipped your bra. Earing a quiet whine from you. She smiled against your skin. She moved it out of her way and immediately went down on you. Cupping your breast in one hand, and the other in her mouth. Your mouth hung open, a gasp escaping your lips. She used her other free hand to position her cock perfectly with your silky entrance. “Maybe I should pump you with my kids to keep them away huh?” she entered you roughly. Letting out a long breathless groan against your nipple. You moaned, your hand holding her hair tighter. “Not everyone’s willing to be a step dad, y’know” she smirked, releasing her lips from your harden bud. She leaned back and then held back of your knees up. Before starting she stared at you, tilting her head with a stupid grin on her face. To her the sight was priceless. Your body covered in her disgusting, dominating signature. Marks all over your body, a little bit of drool down the corner of your mouth. Your half hooded eyes staring up at her. You brought both your hands to your face. One wiping the drool from your chin with your wrist. While the other covered your eyes with the back of your hand. Even in times like this, you still managed to warm her heart. As cold and intimidating as she was, you new how to get that soft side out of her. As she stared at you her gaze softened. Lost in a trance she almost forgot all about the situation at hand. Biting away a smile, she began to thrust into you slowly. Not wanting that look in your face to go. She found you so cute like this. The way you waited so patiently for her. Allowing her to use your body whenever she felt like.

Her pace quickened inside you, he length making her able to hit that sweet spot so easily. Not only that but the pure skill she had when it came to pleasing you. Even during your first time together, she fucked you like she already had you once before. The way your arousal was spreading on her pelvis and shaft, sent her into a blind state. She loved the way your body sounded and responded to her. You might not be good with your words when it came to telling her how she makes you feel. But your body always speaks louder than you in any situation. She threw her head back, lost in pleasure. “Fuuuck..” her eyes shut. She moaned out, she began to get rougher. Loving the way you feel around her. She always managed to fuck you like her first time. Like a virgins first ever experience with sex. Your moans were like music to her, if she could she make a Playlist of just your sounds of you enjoying yourself. All because of her.

You brought your hands to her hips, holding on to her as she pounded into you. Your eyes were shut close, sweat keeping your messy hair in place on your forehead. Your mouth opened from time to time. As you moaned and whine for her. “That’s it baby …” She bent over to you and kissed your chest. “Let them hear, let them know who’s ruining you right now..” She bit and marked your chest. Adding an extra layer of ecstasy to you intense pleasure. “No one can touch you like I can.” She growled against your skin. She let one of your legs go, and brought her hand to play with your clit as she fucked you. The dual sensation in your sensitive area drove you crazy. Causing you to whine and squirm under her touch. Seeing how sensitive you had gotten she laughed at you. Pulling her body up just a little to grt a better view of you. You put your hands on her shoulder, needing something , anything to hold on as you felt your climax nearing. Your nails dug into her shoulder as you moaned loudly.

“Your so perfect baby..” her thrust became messy, losing her rhythmic pace she built up before. You wrapped your arms around her neck and pulled her closer. “Can I baby?” her breathy moans where getting shorter as she neared the edge. Understanding exactly what she wanted you nodded, desperate for release. She bite down on your neck, her groans becoming deeper in pitch as she fucked you harder. Her rough pace and thrust told you everything you needed to know. The sounds of wet skin slapping together, and the moans of to lovers echoed throughout her office. “Fuck.. Jimin!” you moaned loudly as you climax hit you like a fright train. Creaming all over her shaft, she didn’t stop there she still needs to cum too. “Your so pretty baby.. just for me” her thrust grew frantic and wild. Hitting your spot repeatedly, bringing you over the edge once again. As she came inside you with a long loud groan. Her movements slowly in down ad she whined in your ear, enjoying the sensation of your mixed fluids around her length. As you both came down from your high together, she lifted her head up to kiss you all over your face. Whispering compliments and praises to you.

“Nobody can fuck you like I can.” Her demeanor changing. Her voice dominate and stern. “You belong to me, only my..” She kissed you neck again, leaving one last mark on a surprisingly still empty space. This was a new side of your lover, she wasn’t really the jealous type. But seeing how her workers talked about you, the way they watched and looked at you for far too long. It made her beyond upset, knowing you were oblivious to their wandering eyes, and sexual compliments. She had enough, she couldn’t keep acting as if it wasn’t bothering her.

She needed to have some excuse, some way to tell you how she felt. So she chose today, but today was different. Not only was she upset about her disgusting perverts she unknowingly hired. But her other reason being was because of your argument earlier. When you walked into work today, the office had all eyes on you. That was until someone told you to go to Karina’s office. Stating that she was looking for you, it was an urgent matter. As you made your way to the elevator your heart felt heavy, and your stomach was doing every trick in the book. Every possible horrible outcome was flooding your brain. You hadn’t don’t anything wrong you thought. Maybe she was just upset at something, and needed to see you for support?? The elevator stopped. At the top floor, her floor. You felt like you were going to have a panic attack. Things have been a bit rocky with her, the past few weeks. You fought at lot, way more than usual. Karina would always dismiss you, saying your reason for being upset at her was stupid and unimportant. Her words hurt, a lot. But you couldn’t voice that, you needed this job. And seeing how quick she was to fire everyone else scared you. You loved her, more than you should. It’s wrong, it truly is, but you use can’t help it. The way she treats you versus everyone else is evidently different.

Walking down the hall to her office you stopped. Shaking nervously, scared of what’s to come if you open that door. You knocked before entering, peaking your head through first to adjust the situation before heading all the way in. There she was, at her desk. Her fingers rubbing circles on her temple. She was obviously frustrated and upset just by her demeanor. “Karina …” your voice was soft and low. Carefully you let yourself in, taking small quirt steps. “You wanted to see me?” You tried your best to mask the obvious fear in your voice as it shook. Sitting down in the seat in front of her desk. Without looking up she spoke, her tone stern. “We need to talk.” Hanging her head lower as her fingers tangled in the back of hair. She sighed, her tongue poking the inside of her cheek. Her head finally rose, making eye contact with you. Noticing the worried and scared look on your face her expression softened.

You fought back tears, you hated being this vulnerable. But with her you were like a baby, an open book. “Our relationship is quite, interesting don’t you think?” You titled your head a little, confused and eager to see where she takes this. “Y/n. You can possibly be okay with … with this.” She said pointing her finger at the both of you. “Do you even know what we have going on?” she said leaning closer onto the table. “It’s a mess, we’re a mess y/n” all you could do was sit there and listen. As much as you wanted to but in and add our input you stopped yourself. The last thing on your mind right now was upsetting her even more by creating an argument. “I can’t say I’m not attracted to you. That’d be lying.” She leaned back in her chair and folded her arms. “I’d hate to see you with anyone else, as well.” This confused you, was she breaking your heart for fun? “I heard your coworkers talking about you. It was disgusting.” Her face grew visibly upset. Recalling the event where two mean where explain their ‘Crush’ on you in dehumanizing ways. Obviously, she fired them after hearing that, her emotions got the best of her. “So what are you saying …?” you finally spoke up. She looked up at you, examining your face and how glossy your eyes were. “Oh, Honey.” She pouted seeing you so sad. “I’m saying your mine. My beautiful mess” she reached a hand across the table and wiped a fallen tear from your cheek. Pulling you into a kiss, that lasted way longer than it should’ve. “I can’t let anyone else have you” she spoke into the kiss, pulling back to look at you once again. Admiring the way you easily submit to her.

“I see the way you look when they compliment you” her gaze darkened as she spoke. Her thumb trailing down to your lips slowly. She stared at your lips for a while. “Get under the table.”

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(U like how I ended it? 👅 a silly reverse, heh)

[wosospacegirl]

My girl always gets so cranky - leah williamson

Summary: Y/n’s PMS is ruining her night out with Leah, but when things explode over messy eyeliner, Leah’s love and patience bring her back down.

Word count: 1.6k

Notes: just a little fluff fic because im o period, also, say reservation one more time.

..

Y/n tried to be a good person, a good friend, a good colleague and a good girlfriend. She always tried her hardest to be kind, patient and overall a nice person, but there was a specific time in the month that, somehow, turned her into a whole other person.

Y/n had begged Leah to take her out on a date a few days ago, saying she missed trying new foods with her. So Leah, as an amazing girlfriend, did just that.

She reserved a table at a new Arab restaurant in North London and was excited to go out with her girl, but Y/n was having a really hard time getting ready.

“Love, c’mon,” Lead said as she leaned in the archway of the door, watching Y/n doing her makeup in front of the mirror. “We need to go like–” she looked at her watch, “–now.”

Y/n sat at her vanity, gripping the eyeliner as if it had personally wronged her. She knew she was being irrational — knew she was too tired, too stressed, too overwhelmed — but that didn’t stop the frustration from simmering beneath her skin. The shaky lines on her eyelids felt like a metaphor for her entire week: messy, uneven, and impossible to fix.

Y/n had been trying to do cat eyes for the last 25 minutes, but none of her attempts were good enough.

Each line was messier than the last, and every time she wiped it away, it seemed to get worse. Her breathing hitched as she tried to steady her hand and try to do the eyeliner again, but the tension building in her body made it another failed attempt.

She was getting frustrated already, and having Leah breathing down her neck didn’t help with the situation.

She inhaled deeply, forcing herself to remain calm. “I’m almost done, Leah,” she called out, trying to keep her voice steady, though it came out more strained than she intended. “Just give me five more minutes.”

But Leah wasn’t having it. She appeared at the door, arms crossed. “You said that ten minutes ago, babe– I just don’t want to lose the reservation.”

“Well, we will lose the reservation if you don’t step away for a minute and actually let me do my makeup,” Y/n grumbled.

“Oh no! I actually don’t,” Y/n gave Leah the most faux-dumbfounded face. “Can you please explain it to me, Leah?”

Leah crossed her arms. “You do know how a reservation works, right?”

After she finished her sentence her face was back into her grumpy expression.

“Don’t give me attitude,” Leah said angrily, but slowly breathed in and out, calming down. “You know what? If you don’t wanna go, just say so.

“I wanna go! I already said I’m almost done, I just need to get this cat eye right–”

“You look great…I promise. It’s just makeup, Y/n.” The reservation is more important, don’t you think?” Leah said, her voice sharper now.

Normally Leah was very unperturbed by Y/n and her not-so-nice attitude. Mainly because generally, Y/n was very kind and loving, but Leah knew the girl had her moments, especially after a long and stressful day.

“I care about how I look, Leah” Y/n bit back, putting her make-up down again. “I just want to look nice for once–but this stupid eyeliner won’t cooperate.

Was Y/n being spoiled and kind of a brat? Yes. Did Y/n care about it right now? No.

She just wanted to look pretty once. Her whole week had been stressful, she felt ugly and bloated and…she just felt like shit, really– and now Y/n couldn't even have a little time for herself without Leah being annoying. 

She had an argument with her sister two days ago,  it was followed by a disastrous meeting at work where no one seemed to know what they were doing. And then Leah had been in a foul mood since her team’s loss.

Y/n just wanted some time to relax, a night to herself and Leah– a night she’d been looking forward to.

But everything was going wrong.

Leah sighed, stepping into the room and looking at her watch. “Babe, we’re going to lose the reservation if we don’t leave now,” she said, repeating herself once again.

“Bloody hell, Leah” Y/n snapped as she turned to Leah. “You can go alone if you want to.” 

Y/n clutched the eyeliner before throwing it at Leah, who dodged it while looking at Y/n as if she was crazy.

Leah stood frozen for a second after dodging the eyeliner, her eyes flickering from Y/n and the spot where the eyeliner landed. For a moment she felt her face hardened–her eyebrows getting drawn tight, her lips parted, ready to snap at Y/n. 

But instead, she sighed and ran her hands down her face in frustration before collecting herself. She breathed one, two, three times. But as she was ready to speak, Y/n’s angry voice filled the room.

For a second, Leah’s anger burned hot. ‘She can’t be serious’, Leah thought. She was just trying to get her out the door so they didn’t lose the reservation, the reservation to the restaurant Y/n wanted to go.

She wanted to scream at Y/n and tell her she was being irrational.

“You clearly don’t care about how I feel and how I look,” Y/n stomped her way to their bedroom. “I just wanted to do a fucking cat eye.”

As Y/n screamed the last quote, she slammed the door to the bedroom shut. She could already feel tear-pickering in her eyes. She cleaned the tears aggressively while going to the bathroom. 

Stupid. She was stupid. She couldn’t get ready on time. She couldn't do her make-up properly. She couldn’t even pick an outfit. Y/n was looking at herself in the mirror and realised she looked ugly in it.

She began crying even more, her hand pressed to her face. 

Nothing went as planned this week. Nothing went as planned today.

A gentle knock came on the bathroom door, and moments later, Leah walked in, crossing the room quietly and wrapping her arms around Y/n.

“Shh, it’s okay, come here.”

Y/n felt warmth and the sweet smell of Leah’s cologne. 

Leah held Y/n to her chest as she put her chin on top of Y/n’s head, rocking them silently.

It was like the physical comfort was just another trigger for Y/n’s tears. She pressed her body even harder against Leah as she sobbed.

“I’m sorry today’s been so hard,” Leah whispered in her ear. “I also didn’t contribute much to it, huh?”

Leah’s heart clenched, watching Y/n like that, shoulder shaking slightly, feeling the girl sobbing against her body. If Leah was feeling any kind of angriness or frustration, it disappeared the moment she landed her eye on Y/n. 

Leah knew the whole situation wasn’t really about the make-up or the reservation. Y/n had been snappier than usual in the last few days, and Leah had a pretty good guess as to why.

“No, it’s not your fault,” Y/n mumbled, Y/n sniffled, lifting her head slightly to meet Leah’s gaze.” I-I’m just pmsing, I think.” 

“Oh, so that’s what it is,” Leah said knowingly, her lips quirking into a small smile .“My girl always gets so cranky.” Leah pinched Y/n’s cheek playfully.

Y/n nodded, shyly.

“Come on,” Leah said, helping Y/n sit on the bathroom counter while she took some makeup wipes. “Let me help clean you up.”

Y/n sat quietly as Leah grabbed some makeup wipes, her hands surprisingly gentle as she wiped away the smudged eyeliner. Leah’s fingers lingered on Y/n’s face, her thumb brushing along her jaw as if trying to erase more than just makeup.

“I’m sorry I made us lose the reservation,” Y/n mumbled, her voice small “I was just…frustrated about how I looked and the make-up wasn’t helping.”

Leah leaned in and kissed her softly. “It’s okay,” she said quietly. “I get grumpy when I’m PMSing too. You don’t have to feel bad.”

“But I was a bitch,” Y/n muttered, her voice full of guilt.

“Nah,” Leah grinned, waving it off. “Okay, maybe a bit, but I was bloody annoying, so I don’t blame you.”

“I hope we can get the reservations soon?” Y/n asked, looking to the side as Leah gently turned her chin.

“I’ll try again next week, alright?” Leah promised.

“Okay,” Y/n mumbled, still sounding defeated.

“You know,” Leah murmured softly, placing a kiss on Y/n’s temple, “I don’t care if you show up with the messiest eyeliner in the world. You’re still the prettiest girl ever.”

They were in silence as Leah finished cleaning Y/n’s face, her thumb always so gently tracing the line of her cheeks and nose.

“Well, if this cat-eye thing doesn't work out, we could always just go for the ‘I'm so cute even when I cry’ look, "Leah said teasingly, as she wiped the last bit of makeup away.

“I’ll take the cute look any day,” Y/n said, rolling her eyes playfully.

“It looks great on you, darling,” Leah said, kissing Y/n on the lips. “Anything on you looks great.”

“Did you still think that when I had a raccoon-styled eyeliner just half an hour ago?” Y/n smiled, lifting one eyebrow.

“Yes,” Leah winked at her. “It looked edgy, I liked it.”

..

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Masterlist

[rafesslxt]

neglected | mattheo riddle

summary: Theodore completly ignores you and doesnt take it serious that you miss him while he flirts with another girl at a party.. so his best friend has to help you filling up that hole inside your … chest.

warning: cheating? but is it if he does it first?, mattheo eating out the reader, fingering, nipple play, teasing, dirty talk, getting caught, he‘s a munch don‘t fight with me over this -

note: i do not support cheating, this is just for the story

— monday —

I don‘t know how many times I already begged but from time to time.. i felt more and more neglected.

"Theo, please just this one weekend! You had been busy with your friends and studying the last 3 weeks!" Yeah, 3 weeks since my boyfriend went on a date with me, had some quality time or touched me.

"Y/n I told you I don‘t have time. I already promised the boys I‘d come to the party. We‘ll see us there, I have to go study now, with Lydia." Before I could even say a word he left his dorm. I hear a chuckle coming from the other side of the room, making me turn my head in it’s direction.

"Told you you deserve better baby." Mattheo, Theodore‘s best friend said, sitting on his bed. They share a dorm and every now and then he would see Theo and me arguing.

I huff and leave the room, a aching feeling in my body.

— the next day —

"Theo please, I need you. You didn‘t touch me once the last few weeks." I whine into his ear, sitting next to him. He just groans, but not the way I want him to and gets up with his book in his hands. "Don‘t you see that you‘re distracting me?" Irritated he leaves the room, probably walking off to the library again.

Ugh.. i let myself fall back down onto the mattress and cross my arms over my face. Is it my fault? Did my body change somehow? Why the hell won‘t he touch me? But before I could continue my thoughts, I hear the door again, my head shooting up, hoping it is Theo who changed his mind but no, it‘s Mattheo. I groan frustrated and let my head fall back.

"Wow nice to see you too baby, but I think you‘re laying on the wrong bed." he says, teasing me.

"Sometimes I think like that too." I mumble into my arms and more to myself.

"What was that?" he asks. "Nothing."

— two days later —

Patiently I wait on Theo‘s bed, dressed all up.. or down, in his favorite lingerie set and a pair of black knee socks. When we got together half a year ago he told me he loved them on me, made my legs look even longer.

As the door opens my heart starts beating faster and I look up, shrieking and pulling the blanket over my body as I see who it is. "Damn mami is that for me?" Mattheo asks as he stand in front of Theo‘s bed with a smirk on his face, his mouth wide open.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" I asked furious, not wanting him to see me like that. What If Theo comes in and would see us, what would he think?

"Last time I checked this is my room, sweetcheeks." "But you‘re supposed to have quidditch practice!" I whine and look for my clothes.

He chuckles and steps a bit closer as I stand up from the bed. "Could you turn around? I wanna get dressed." "No." "You are such a pain in the ass!" I roll my eyes at him and take my wand, mumbling "Colloportus“. and holding it towards the door so no one can come inside.

I let go of the blanket, thinking fuck it, and grab my skirt, pulling it over my legs and then my hips. "Did your cute little boyfriend leave you unsatisfied again?" he grins and takes a step closer. "You know.. I could help you with that." he says in a suggestive tone. "He’s your best friend Mattheo, stop this shit." "I can’t princess. Hurts me to see that pretty little body of yours, knowing how desperate it must be after all these weeks." he whispers the last part as he lets his fingers slowly brush over my arm, sending shivers down my spine. "See? It’s so hot for just a little attention." "No, it is cold, thats why." I say, swallowing down the clump in my throat as i nod towards the opened window.

Just as I wanted to reach down for my top, I see Mattheo getting down on his knees in front of me. He looks up and licks his lips. Damn.. something about a men on his knees for me made me feel slme type of way.

"Please let me touch your legs, please. Need to know how soft these pretty thighs feel." I could feel his warm breath against my skin, again, sending shivers down my… spine. wet pussy

"Mattheo get the fuck up I swear to god!" i hiss at him. Yes I closed the door with a spell but it wasn‘t really hard for everyone above first years to open it with a spell.

"Please, I swear If you let me just touch it I‘m gonna leave you alone for the rest of the week!" he pleads, looking at my face and then my legs. I sigh as I think about letting him. Damn was I really thinking about it? Am I really going to let my boyfriends best friend touch my thighs?

But I mean.. nothing’s wrong If I don‘t feel anything for it, right? Plus he would just leave me alone for a bit. "Fine." I press out.

As soon as the words leave my mouth, I feel his big warm hands on my thighs. "Shit.." he mumbles as he lets them wander up and down my legs. He slighty squeezes them, making me sigh in relief.

I feel his curls against my skin before I can look down and see him kissing my flesh, grabbing it with a bit more strengh now. I had to bite my bottom lip as he starts massaging them. Completly lost in thoughts, I realize too late what he was doing.

Suddenly he stands up and kisses my cheek "Thank you, doll.", before leaving the dorm and leaving me breathless in the middle of the room. As I slowly come back from the dizzy feeling inside my head I again, stretch over to get my top but gasp with shaky breathing as I see what Mattheo left on my skin.

A hickey. And a bite mark. I didn‘t even notice him biting my leg. Shit.

— Saturday —

To say i was pissed, while sitting on a chair in some corner of the common room, was a big understatement. Theodore and I arrived at the party he talked about a few days ago.. 2hours ago. I saw him drinking with his friends and playing truth or dare in a little group, always walking away from me as soon as I approached him. So I decided to stop chasing him.

"What are you doing here all alone sweetcheeks?" I look to my right and see Mattheo. Of course it was him. "Leave me alone." I say, rolling my eyes and looking back to my boyfriend, sitting beside this girl named Lydia. She was a year under us I think.

Mattheo followed my gaze and shakes his head. "Well , the deal was I would leave you alone till end of the week. The week is over." I don‘t even answer him, not in the mood to argue.

"Yeah thanks for the hickey and the mark between." i say sarcastically. "Yeah it‘s not like your boyfriend would see, right?"

I roll my eyes again and look back at Theodore, to see him standing up. What was he going to do? Suddenly I see him taking Lydia‘s hand, pulling her up with him and kissing her. In shock I opened my mouth, but instead of crying like i normally would, my face got red in anger.

I tried everything and here he stands sucking of the face of that stupid thot. In the middle of the common room? With the girl he "studys" all the time? I bet that’s not the first time they kiss. Mattheo seems to see it too and looks at me more serious now. "Hey.. are you okay? I mean he‘s not worth it If you - " but before he can continue I grab him at the collor of his shirt and drag him with me to his dorm.

— 30 minutes later —

"Oh fuck yes, Mattheo!" I moan into the air, pushing his head against me while his lips suck on my clit, his fingers pumping inside me. "Shit who would have known that you go this feral for my tounge huh?" he smiles and mumbles against my skin.

"Stop talking and continue!" I whine and push his head back. I hear him chuckle before he laps at my throbbing clit again. God If I would have known how good this feels I would have had ended things with Theo way sooner.

His free hand slides across my body up to my left boob where he started to tease my nipple. I gasp and push my hips up, arching my back. My body was so sensitive I wanted to cry out of pleasure everytime he touched me somewhere.

It didn‘t took me long before my body starts trembling and shaking, Mattheo licking everything up as I come on his tounge.

"I could get drunk on your pussy." he groans before kissing me, making me taste myself on his lips.

"I hope you‘re ready cause that pussy screams for me." he whispers against my lips before going down on me again.

A few minutes in I hear someone yell. "WHAT THE FUCK?"

My head shot up and I looked to the door where Theo stood, looking ag us with an angry face.

I saw Mattheo looking at him over his shoulder, smiling at him with glistening lips. "Hey men, hope you don‘t mind? We got the impression you were busy.. never mind – bro how could you not eat that pussy like.. all day?"

"I‘m gonna kill you, Riddle!"

shorter than usual but I liked it 🌼

thanks for reading and supporting 🫶🏻

xoxo sarah <3

[plasticflowersinahistorycemetery]

exhibitionism

part VI

Pairing: SugarDaddy!Ben x Fem!Reader

Summary: He dressed you up, paraded you through rooms full of monsters, made you beg for release with a smile on his lips and a hand on your throat. He didn’t just want their eyes on you—he needed them to know you were his. Fuck the price of that drink anyway.

Warnings: 18+!, Ben once again being his own warning, age gap, language, misogyny, drug consumption, smut (kissing, biting, marking, slapping, dirty talk, clitoral stimulation, overstim, forced orgasms, fingering, handjob, cunnilingus/oral, p in v, cum on face, throttling, rough sex, semi-public sex, somnophilia, sexsomnia, dub-con, orgasm control/denial), mind games, manipulation, degradation, power imbalance, I may have missed some. (There's a bunch in this one, agh!)

Word Count: 6,817

A/N: It's done!!!!! Omg!!!! I am so sorry for how long this took. And I can only thank you guys for the reception to this series. I've loved every second of it. <3 God, do I hope I've proofread this one properly. I also LOVED writing Victoria into this one. I love Neuman so much. :') Please give me any feedback, my disgusting little mind loves hearing y'alls thoughts on my depravity. Smin signing off. Over and out. All the love.

Without further ado: EXHIBITIONISM

Power is not taken. It is given.

A glance across the bar. A drink set down without a word. A hand at the small of your back, guiding you somewhere you don’t belong.

It starts small—a single indulgence, a breathless yes.

Then, suddenly, you are on display. Draped over his lap, diamonds at your throat, whiskey on your lips. A possession. A prize. A thing to be seen.

Because men like him do not love. They own.

Friday evening.

The end of the week, the start of his time.

You stood in your bathroom, steam curling around you, skin still dewy from the bath, a towel wrapped loosely around your body as you moved through the motions. Moisturiser. Perfume. Little rituals that felt more like routine now.

The bag on your bed was barely packed. A formality more than a necessity. There wasn't much you needed to take—Ben already had everything for you at his place. Clothes, toiletries, things you hadn't even thought to buy for yourself.

You glanced around your apartment, the one he picked, the one he paid for. It was beautiful, curated, a place that should have felt like home. It didn't. Not really.

It felt like a waiting room. A place you stayed until it was time to go back to him.

Your stomach fluttered at the thought, and you weren't sure if it was anticipation or something else. Something darker.

Last weekend replayed in your head in flashes. Hot. Filthy. Unrelenting.

The sex on the floor—feral, desperate, raw. The way he dragged you against him, fucked into you with bruising force, kept pushing and pushing until you broke apart above him. The way he came with his hands gripping your hips like a vice, eyes wild, jaw tight, filth spilling from his lips.

Then later—another round, softer, slower, but just as consuming. The way he woke you up in the morning, face between your legs, hands pinning your thighs apart like he had no intention of letting you go. The low groans against your skin, the way his tongue worked you open, lazy and indulgent.

Lunch was an afterthought, a moment of normalcy that never lasted. The dinner you made? Completely forgotten the second he reached across the table, grabbed your wrist, and dragged you into his lap. The food went cold while he fucked you against the dining room chair, one hand tangled in your hair, the other gripping your ass, growling Mine, mine, mine.

Sunday, he took you out for a drive. One of his vintage cars, because apparently, he had an entire fucking collection. The speed, the power, the way he smirked as you clutched the seatbelt while he pushed the car to its limits—everything about him screamed excess.

Then the week came, and you fell back into your other life. Classes, textbooks, essays, deadlines. But even then, he bled into it. Your remaining books arrived at your apartment, courtesy of Ben. So did a box of toys, lingerie, things you wouldn't have even known to ask for. You never questioned how he knew your sizes.

Tonight though? You had no idea what he had planned. The thought thrilled you. And maybe, just maybe—it terrified you too.

The knock came sharp and impatient, cutting through the quiet of your apartment. You blinked at the door, surprised—it wasn’t time yet. Ben was never early.

Then—

"Open up, love. Need to take a fuckin’ slash. Normally wouldn’t ask, but I’m about to piss meself."

Butcher.

You huffed a laugh, rolling your eyes as you padded over, unlocking the door and pulling it open.

He stood there, looking as unimpressed and impatient as ever, arms crossed over his chest like he had better places to be.

"You couldn’t have gone before you got here?"

"What, and use a public loo? Be serious." He grunted, stepping past you without waiting for an invitation. "Where’s the shitter?"

You just shook your head, smirking as you gestured down the hall. "Same place it’s always been. You did find this apartment, remember?"

"Yeah, yeah. I find ‘em, Ben buys ‘em. Ain’t that how this works?"

You didn’t answer. Just watched him disappear into the bathroom while you turned back toward your bedroom, finishing the last touches of getting ready. Your bag sat open on the bed, barely filled. Just a formality at this point. You didn’t need to take much—Ben had everything waiting for you at his place. Everything.

Perfume. Final touch-ups. A glance in the mirror, and you were ready.

When you walked back out, Butcher was already by the door, arms crossed again, watching you like he was assessing something.

"Ben said to make sure you got to the car safe."

You scoffed. "It’s literally right outside."

"Yeah, well." Butcher shrugged. "'E’s particular about things, ain't he."

That was an understatement.

You grabbed your bag, shaking your head as you stepped past him, heading toward the elevator. Butcher followed, hands in his pockets, too relaxed, too knowing. The car was already warm when you slid into the backseat, the city stretching out beyond the windshield as Butcher started the drive to Ben’s. You exhaled, settling in. The leather seats were too familiar now, the routine too easy.

A thought struck, and you glanced up toward the rearview mirror. "You know what we’re doing tonight?"

Butcher smirked. "Course I do."

You narrowed your eyes. "Are you gonna tell me?"

"Nope. Not allowed to spoil the surprise."

Your stomach twisted. That meant you weren’t just spending the night in. That meant Ben had plans. You weren’t sure whether to be excited or terrified. Maybe both.

The car slowed to a familiar crawl, the towering silhouette of Ben’s building swallowing the skyline, all glass and steel and quiet menace. Your stomach twisted—not with nerves anymore, not really. With anticipation. With hunger. With the ache that only he could satisfy.

Butcher didn’t say a word until he pulled to the curb. Just flicked his eyes toward you in the rearview and muttered, "Go on, then. Try not to be late next time."

You rolled your eyes, grabbed your bag, and stepped into the city’s pulse.

The lobby swallowed you whole in a hush of marble and low lighting, security nodding without a word as you crossed to the elevator. Everyone here already knew who you were.

Ben’s girl.

The elevator purred upward. Your reflection in the polished chrome walls stared back at you—lips glossed, dress strap slipping from your shoulder, hair curled just enough to look like you hadn’t tried too hard.

You looked like something curated.

The second the elevator doors opened, he was there. And then he was on you. He didn’t wait. Didn’t say hello. Just grabbed you by the waist and dragged you inside, kicking the door shut behind him with a low grunt, his mouth already crashing down on yours.

Hot. Claiming. Open. Tongue and teeth and possession.

Your bag slipped from your hand. You didn’t even notice.

His fingers found your jaw, tilting your face as he devoured you, groaning low against your lips like he’d been waiting days to taste you again.

“Fuck, baby,” he rasped between kisses, lips brushing yours, then your cheek, then your jaw. “Missed you. Been thinkin' about tonight all fuckin’ week.”

You barely got a breath in before he was on you again. Hands under your ass, palming the curves he paid for and protected like art.

Your laugh was breathless, dazed. “Hi to you too.”

He pulled back just enough to look at you, eyes hooded and greedy, lips wet and parted.

“Don’t need ‘hi,’” he muttered. “Need you. Right now.”

You melted. You always melted.

His hand smacked your ass once, hard enough to make you jump. He grinned at the reaction. “Come on,” he said, tugging you along. “Got your dress ready.”

Your heart fluttered. “You picked it out?”

“Course I did.” He looked over his shoulder with a crooked smirk. “You think I’m gonna let you wear whatever the fuck you want to somewhere like this?”

The bedroom door swung open, and there it was. Laid out like an offering. Cream satin. Barely there. Draped like water, strappy, cut to cling. It shimmered under the soft light, delicate and obscene.

You blinked. “It matches your shirt.”

Ben smirked, tugging his own cuffs down, the fabric clinging to his arms. His dress pants fit like sin, tailored within an inch of their life, the crisp line down his thigh pulling your eyes right where he wanted them.

“Yeah,” he drawled, smoothing a hand down his stomach. “Thought we’d coordinate. Make it real obvious you’re mine.”

You couldn’t stop staring at his thighs. Or his ass. Or the way the muscles in his back flexed under the thin fabric.

“Jesus,” you muttered.

His smirk sharpened. “Wanna ride it?” He asked, voice low, dirty. “Get your slick all over my pants? Hump me like a fuckin’ desperate little doll?”

Your breath hitched. You nodded before you could think.

Ben stepped closer. Close enough for his breath to ghost across your lips. His mouth hovered over yours, and you could already taste him.

Then—

“Too bad,” he whispered into your mouth. “We’re already late.”

And then he pulled away, leaving you reeling, skin hot, thighs clenching, dress untouched. You were already undone, and the night hadn’t even started.

You stepped toward the bed, the soft sigh of satin whispering beneath your fingertips as you lifted the dress. It felt like liquid in your hands—cream-coloured, near-sheer in the light, slinky and obscene, the fabric cool and supple as it slipped through your fingers. It had no sleeves, only delicate straps that promised to sit high and tight on your shoulders, leaving the curve of your collarbones and back exposed to the world.

The neckline was a shallow cowl, dipping just enough to hint at the tops of your breasts, but the real danger was the hem—indecently short, barely grazing mid-thigh. One wrong movement and the dress would bare you entirely.

Ben lounged in the doorway, watching like he was starving.

"You gonna let me see, or you just gonna stand there fondlin' it all night?"

You rolled your eyes, but your cheeks were already flushing. You turned away, stepping out of your clothes with a practiced grace you hadn’t known you’d learned until now. His gaze burned into your back, heavy and indulgent.

"Jesus fuckin’ Christ," he muttered, voice low and sharp. "That ass is a goddamn masterpiece."

You slipped the dress over your head, the satin cascading down your skin like a lover’s tongue, clinging to every dip, every curve. When you turned, his breath caught—audibly.

He stepped forward slowly, like a man approaching a shrine.

"Turn around," he rasped. "Slow. Let me see it all."

You obeyed.

His groan rumbled deep in his chest. "Fuck, baby. You look like sex and royalty had a kid."

You glanced down, brushing invisible wrinkles from the fabric, your skin prickling beneath the intensity of his gaze.

"You done ogling?"

"Not even fuckin’ close," he breathed.

He crossed to you, unhurried, one hand dragging down your arm to where your fingers were still clutching the hem.

"Heels. Now."

You slipped into the little black stilettos he’d left out for you—simple, strappy, cruel. They elevated you just enough to make your legs look endless. You felt dizzy already.

When you looked up, Ben was holding a small velvet box. He popped it open with one thumb.

Gold, emerald, and pearl.

The necklace glinted like it had been plucked from royalty. Emeralds the exact shade of his eyes, cut to catch the light and throw it back like fire. The pearls were soft, creamy, luminous against the sharper stones.

Matching earrings. A delicate clip for your hair.

“Ben—”

“I fuckin’ know,” he murmured. “They’re perfect. Like you.”

You didn’t know what to say.

He took the necklace out, stepping behind you. His fingers brushed your neck, and you shivered as he fastened it in place. The cool metal kissed your skin like a promise.

Then the earrings, one by one, careful, reverent. The clip came last—nestled just above your ear, gleaming against your hair like something holy.

When you turned to face him again, his expression had darkened. His tongue swept slowly over his bottom lip, then he bit down on it, hard.

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ,” he said, voice hoarse. “I should cancel tonight. Should drown between your fuckin' thighs instead. Spend hours there. Days. Never come up for air.”

You blinked, throat tightening. “Ben.”

He stepped in, chest brushing yours, one hand gripping your hip, the other ghosting down the front of your thigh.

“I mean look at you,” he said, nose dragging up the side of your neck. “Prettiest fuckin’ thing I’ve ever seen. You got any idea what you do to me, baby? Any idea what it’s gonna take for me to keep my hands off you tonight?”

Your breath hitched.

He grinned, then reached into his pocket and pulled out something small and smooth. He pressed it into your palm.

A toy. Discreet. Sleek. Wicked.

He leaned close, lips brushing your ear.

“Put it in,” he whispered. “You got five minutes, doll.”

You swallowed hard.

He smirked. “Remote’s in my pocket. Which means your night? Belongs to me.”

The toy felt obscene in your hand. Small. Innocent, almost—until you slid it inside and realised just how not innocent it was.

You braced a hand on the bathroom counter, heart fluttering as the slick heat of it settled deep inside you. It didn’t vibrate. Not yet. But it felt like a wire pulled tight beneath your skin.

You straightened your dress, adjusted the hem. Checked your lipgloss. And stepped back out into the fire. Ben was waiting by the elevator, jacket slung over his shoulder, jaw working as he looked you up and down. He grinned the second your eyes met.

“Got it in, baby?”

You nodded once, already breathless.

“Good,” he said, hitting the button. “You look fuckin’ edible. Might not make it out of this building.”

The doors opened. You stepped in first. He followed. And the second the doors slid shut, he pressed the remote. The vibration hit low and sharp, punching a gasp out of you. Your knees buckled. Your hand flew out to brace against the mirrored wall.

Ben laughed. Deep and smug. Ravenous.

You looked up at him, eyes wide, lips parted.

He winked. Click. It stopped.

“Just checkin’ it works,” he said, casual as ever. “Wouldn’t wanna take faulty gear out in the wild.”

The elevator opened.

You tried to remember how to walk.

The air outside hit your skin like glass—cool and sharp and thick with the city’s low hum. The black car idled at the curb, Butcher leaning against the hood, arms crossed, cigarette pinched between his fingers.

He flicked it away when he saw you and pulled the door open without a word.

Ben helped you in first, one hand firm on your lower back, another trailing down the curve of your ass as you bent to slide in.

“Gotta start wearin’ longer dresses, sweetheart,” he muttered. “Or don’t. Shit, don’t.”

You flushed and sank into the leather seat. Ben climbed in beside you, legs wide, arm already around your shoulders like a fucking throne.

Butcher glanced in the rearview, deadpan. “Jesus. You two done dry-humpin’ or we takin’ the scenic route tonight?”

Ben grinned. “Shut the fuck up and drive.”

Butcher snorted but put the car in gear.

City lights streaked past in a blur. The toy inside you pulsed with phantom memory, your thighs pressed tight together. You shifted slightly, but Ben’s hand gripped your knee and dragged it back open.

“Don’t even think about hiding,” he said. “You wanted to play, you fuckin’ play.”

His hand slid higher, inching toward the hem of your dress. His fingers teased just under the edge, not touching the toy, but close enough to make your breath catch.

“She’s soaked already,” he said, loud enough for the front seat. “Fuckin’ faucet.”

Butcher didn’t even blink. “You keep talkin' like that and I’m gonna end up drivin' into traffic.”

Ben grinned. “That a compliment?”

Butcher’s eyes flicked to the mirror, landing on you.

“Never seen you like this, mate,” he said. “You’ve lost the fuckin’ plot over her.”

Ben didn’t deny it. Didn’t blink. Just grinned wider, like being unhinged over you was a badge of honour.

“Wouldn’t you?” He said. “Look at her. Fuckin’ perfect. Should’ve heard her the other mornin'—cryin’ on my tongue like she wanted to marry it.”

You slapped his chest, mortified. But Ben caught your wrist and kissed the inside of it, slow and filthy.

“Don’t pretend you didn’t,” he murmured.

Butcher groaned. “You two need a goddamn leash.”

The car rolled to a stop. Outside, the venue loomed—faceless, nameless, but humming with power. There was no line. No music. Just velvet shadows and the hush of wealth. Ben stepped out first, adjusting his jacket, looking every inch the monster in silk and tailored wool.

He offered you his hand. You took it. He pulled you in tight.

“Try not to make too many people fall in love with you tonight,” he said, lips brushing your temple. “I fuckin’ hate sharing.”

And then you walked through the doors, straight into the mouth of the beast.

The venue looked like nothing from the outside—just a black door, tucked between glass towers, guarded by two men in earpieces who didn’t ask for names. They didn’t need to. Ben nodded once. The door opened.

And you stepped into something else entirely.

All shadow and heat and reverence.

The floors were black marble, veined like smoke. Velvet curtains carved out the space into dark corners and dim alcoves, while the ceiling arched high above in glass and steel and soft gold light. The air was thick with perfume, cigars, and the kind of money that didn’t speak out loud.

Everywhere you looked—eyes.

Men in tailored suits with expensive watches and hungrier stares. Women like sculptures. Everything glittered, but none of it outshone the possessive heat of Ben’s hand on your lower back.

You felt exposed. Seen. Desired.

Displayed.

Ben leaned down as you stepped deeper into the space, his mouth brushing your ear. “You feel that?”

You swallowed.

He smirked. “They’re lookin’ at you, baby. Every one of ‘em.” His palm slid a little lower. “They wanna know who the fuck you are.”

You pressed closer into his side. Your heels clicked like a heartbeat against the marble. The dress clung in all the wrong—and perfect—places, and the toy inside you was a presence, a promise. Not on. Not yet. But waiting.

Ben steered you through the crowd like he owned it. And maybe he did.

You saw them before you reached them. John—smug, drink in hand, grin like a blade. His eyes lit up when he saw you. Not kind. Not warm. Just sharp. Earving stood beside him, dressed to kill and silent, a girl tucked against his arm like an accessory.

And then—

A woman. Short hair, sharp suit, a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. She was laughing at something another man had just said—immaculate in grey, expression unreadable.

Ben led you straight to them.

“Stan Edgar. Victoria Neuman. This is my girl.”

Stan looked you over like you were data. Victoria’s smile sharpened.

“Pleasure,” she said, voice smooth. “Ben’s been...talking.”

You nodded, barely able to speak under the weight of their attention.

Stan only nodded once. “She’s very... visually efficient.”

Ben barked a laugh. “She’s more than that.”

You were still reeling from their gazes when John stepped forward, cocking his head as he looked you over with that same dripping smirk.

“Benjamin! You finally brought her out again, huh?” He whistled low. “Fuck me, you’ve been hiding a masterpiece.”

You stiffened. Ben didn’t. He stepped in front of you slightly, shielding you with his frame. “Careful, John,” he said, smile tight. “She’s not a museum piece.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” John replied, eyes still on you. “I’d pay to take a closer look.”

Ben’s laugh was dark. Low. Dangerous. His arm locked tighter around your waist.

“You wanna keep your teeth in your mouth, you keep that fuckin’ look off your face.”

John just raised his hands in mock surrender, but the hunger in his eyes didn’t fade.

You pressed closer to Ben, dizzy from the lights and perfume and how exposed your thighs felt under all that satin. He bent low again, his mouth hot against your ear.

“You’re doin’ so fuckin’ good,” he murmured. “Takin’ it all like my perfect little doll.”

His hand found your thigh.

The toy was still silent.

But not for long.

The booth was tucked into the back corner, elevated just enough to offer a panoramic view of the velvet-drenched chaos below. Private, but not hidden. On display. Designed to be watched. Just like last time.

Ben slid in first, legs wide, jacket draped lazily behind him like he owned the entire venue—he probably fucking did. He crooked a finger at you without speaking.

You stepped into the curve of the booth, your body already trembling with the residual tension from the car, the entrance, the stares. He caught you by the waist and pulled you down into his lap.

"Legs open," he muttered into your neck, the command so quiet it might have been a breath. "Whole fuckin’ night. You hear me?"

You nodded.

His hands skimmed your thighs as you settled, one arm anchoring around your waist like a chain.

And then—

The toy buzzed to life inside you. It was soft at first. Barely a tremor. But it landed like a punch. Your thighs tensed instinctively.

Ben didn’t look at you. Just reached for his drink and sipped. Moved you gently from his lap to slip further into the booth. The buzzing didn’t stop. You tried to hide it—to school your face into something neutral. But your hands clenched against your lap, and your breath stuttered. Your pulse was in your throat.

Ben leaned in like he was going to kiss your cheek. He didn’t.

"What’s the matter, sweetheart? Can’t sit still?"

You swallowed.

His mouth brushed your ear.

"Keep your face pretty. That’s all you gotta do."

You exhaled slowly, legs trembling, clinging to the champagne flute that had just appeared in front of you.

You didn’t even see her sit down. Victoria Neuman smiled like a shark in silk. "Ben hasn't stopped talking about you for weeks," she said casually, crossing one leg over the other. "Good to see he’s not losing steam."

Your lips parted—words stalling. The toy pulsed harder. A moan threatened to escape. You bit it back. Nodded.

"You okay, sweetheart?" She asked, eyes twinkling with a dangerous kind of amusement.

You nodded again. Barely.

She tilted her head. "He’s cruel when he likes someone. You’ll get used to it."

Ben hadn’t moved. He was still across the booth. Watching. Smirking. And then he turned the toy up. High. Constant. Devastating. Your hand trembled as you set the glass down. You could barely breathe.

"He likes them obedient," Victoria murmured, swirling her drink. "But not too quiet. You’ll do just fine."

And then he was behind you. You hadn’t even seen him move. His hands were on your hips, pulling you back into his lap, then your waist, then your throat. His mouth on your neck. Kissing, sucking, biting.

You gasped. He didn’t stop.

"God, you’re fuckin’ shaking," he rasped, voice raw against your skin. "You gonna come in front of her?"

Victoria just sipped her drink, unbothered. "You always were theatrical, Ben."

He grinned into your neck.

"You should see what she gets like, Neuman," he said. "Tries to ride my face so hard she almost passes out."

You whimpered. He bit your ear.

"Don’t come yet," he said, sharp now. Low and dangerous. "Not unless I say. You don’t want me to embarrass you, do you?"

You shook your head, lips trembling.

"Smile," he whispered. "You’re the prettiest thing in the room—act like it."

Victoria laughed. "She’s a mess. You always pick the messy ones."

Ben’s tongue dragged up your neck. His hand slid between your thighs, pressed over the buzzing heat.

"Look at her, Vic," he growled. "Isn’t she a fuckin’ masterpiece?"

You couldn’t answer. You were burning. Shaking. So close it hurt. And he hadn’t even gotten started.

They came in slowly, like the tide—first Stan, silent and surgical in his presence. Then John, already smirking. Earving behind them, ghost-quiet, eyes unreadable. Victoria didn’t move. She just sipped her drink, crossed her legs the other way, and looked amused.

Ben welcomed them with a lazy tilt of his chin, but he didn’t let you go. His hand stayed on your thigh. His breath stayed in your ear.

You were still trembling when you turned. One slow, shaking motion. You straddled him. Face to face, chest to chest, your thighs wide around his lap. Satin clung to your skin, the toy still pulsing inside you like a secret heartbeat. Your hands pressed into his shoulders like you needed the anchor—like you’d float away if he let you.

He didn’t let you.

His hands gripped your waist, strong and certain. And when you dropped your face into his neck, he hummed, low and pleased.

"There she is," he murmured, loud enough for them to hear. "My pretty little mess."

You could hear the clink of ice in glasses. The murmurs of expensive conversation. Stan speaking in numbers. John muttering filth.

But Ben’s hands were creeping lower. The toy buzzed higher.

You whimpered into his throat. He laughed.

"You feel that? Huh? Right here, surrounded by billionaires and snakes, and you’re shaking like you’re gonna fuckin’ break."

You nodded into his skin.

Victoria’s voice came soft beside you. "You’re doing fine, sweetheart."

You turned slightly, cheek brushing Ben’s jaw as you looked at her. She smiled. Not cruelly. But not kindly, either.

"He’s like this," she said, dry. "He just likes the ones who squirm."

Ben’s hand slid up your spine.

"You gonna be polite, baby? Or you gonna come all over my lap while Stan’s tryin’ to talk taxes?"

You whimpered.

Victoria’s hand brushed your back, light as silk. "Don’t worry. No one’s looking."

That was a lie.

Ben kissed your cheek like a lover. Then bit your jaw like a predator. "Beg," he whispered. "You wanna fuckin' come? Say it. Say it out loud."

You opened your mouth... and he turned away. "Edgar," he said, casually. "What’s the projection on Neuman’s little tax stunt?"

Your mouth stayed open. No sound came out. The toy didn’t stop.

Stan’s voice was cold. "Stable for now. But volatile next quarter."

You nodded at something Victoria said. You weren’t even sure what. She was still smirking. Still sipping.

"You're shaking," she whispered, voice meant only for you. "He won’t stop. Not yet."

Ben turned back to you. His eyes were molten.

"You’re close, huh? Gonna come for me, sweetheart?"

You nodded. Whimpered. Your legs were trembling. He kissed you—hot and slow and brutal. Then pulled back.

"Too bad."

He clicked the remote. And the toy went silent.

You collapsed into his chest, blinking through heat and tears and shame. He held you like a prize. Like a trophy.

Like something earned, but you weren’t sure how much more you could take.

Then, it started again. A hum—low and cruel—deep inside you.

You gasped before you could catch it. Not loud, but sharp enough to draw Ben’s eyes to you from the corner, his arm tightening around your waist like he felt it too.

"Jesus, Ben," you whispered, the words barely shaped.

He hummed against your ear, unbothered, his voice molasses-slick. "Thought you were relaxin’, sweetheart."

But he didn’t stop. Didn’t ease up. The toy kept humming—steady, deliberate, tuned to that unbearable pitch between ache and ecstasy. Your thighs trembled where they bracketed his. Your hands fisted the fabric at his shoulders.

And yet—

You looked at him. Really looked.

Ben was talking to Stan again, some quiet, low-stakes business chatter about offshore accounts or quarterly damage control. His voice was smooth, lilting, laced with sarcasm. He leaned back like he didn’t have you straddling him, wrecked and pulsing, on the brink of total collapse.

His beard caught the low light like it had a sheen. Soft at the edges, trimmed at the jaw. His throat moved when he laughed at something John muttered, a sharp bark that exposed those too-sharp canines. The corner of his mouth lifted as he sipped his drink with one hand, the other still heavy on your back.

And his eyes—

God. His fucking eyes.

Green like bottle glass and back-alley secrets, sharp as knives and stupidly beautiful. Bright even in shadow. They sparkled when he laughed, narrowed when he smirked. And he was smirking now.

Not at you. Not yet.

You pressed your cheek to his shoulder, the silk of his shirt damp with heat and breath and sweat. Your heart ached with how much you wanted him. Not just his cock, not just his control.

Him.

You swallowed the whimper building in your throat.

And then, soft as sin:

"Ben."

He turned. Just his head. Just enough to look down at you, eyes slipping slow over your face. One brow arched.

"You okay, baby?"

You nodded. Breathless.

"Take me home."

His face changed.

It wasn’t visible, not fully—not to anyone else. But you felt it. The way his hand stilled. The way his spine straightened. The breath he drew in, low and slow.

"Home?"

You nodded again.

"Please."

The word was a whisper against his collar.

His smirk didn’t return all at once. It built like thunder—low, slow, inevitable. His palm slid up your back, fingers curling at your nape. He kissed your temple. Then stood. Lifted you with him. Like you weighed nothing. Like you were made to be carried.

You buried your face in his neck, felt the beat of his pulse against your lips as he turned from the table.

"Excuse us," he said smoothly, like he wasn’t holding a trembling girl half-fucked in his arms. "She needs a breather."

Victoria’s smile curled like smoke. John’s eyes followed you, grinning like he knew too much. Stan barely looked up.

And then Ben was walking—shoulders square, strides long, your body cradled to his like some obscene treasure.

Through the hush of velvet and vice. Out the black door, into the night, back to where he’d promised to take you.

Home.

The car door shut with a soft click. And then you were gone. Ben didn’t wait. Didn’t give you time to breathe or prepare or brace—he just reached between your thighs, clicked the remote in his pocket, and the toy inside you purred back to life like it never left.

You jerked in your seat, legs trembling, a soft gasp curling from your lips before you could catch it. The city lights blurred past the window, glittering and disjointed, but you couldn’t see them. Couldn’t feel anything but the heat already pooling low in your belly, the friction of satin and skin and heat, and Ben’s hand on your thigh.

His voice came slow and slick in your ear.

"There she is. My girl. My good fuckin’ girl."

You whimpered, already clinging to his shoulder, your body melting into his side.

"You hear that little sound you make when I touch you?" He murmured. "Fuckin’ music. Could write a goddamn symphony off the way you moan for me."

He pushed the hem of your dress higher, fingers teasing at the edge of your underwear, toy humming so deep you swore your bones vibrated.

"Be loud, baby. Butcher doesn’t give a fuck. Hell, he’s seen worse."

As if to prove it, the partition between you and the driver stayed half-lowered. Butcher’s face was blank in the mirror, eyes flicking away like he’d seen this show before.

Your head tipped back as the pressure crested—your toes curled, your thighs trembled. You bit your lip but it didn’t help.

You came with a gasp, a moan slipping loose, high and broken. Your whole body shuddered.

Ben groaned like he felt it too.

"That’s it. Fuckin’ hell, that’s it," he rasped. "Goddamn you’re perfect." His hand didn’t leave you. Didn’t still. "You got another one in you, sweetheart? Huh? I know you do."

The toy kept going, and he pressed a kiss to your temple. You whimpered again, hips twitching involuntarily.

"You’re mine. You’ll give me as many as I want. You fuckin’ love it."

You came again before you realised you were close. A full-body quake, a cry buried in the thick fabric of his shirt, your nails digging into his arm.

The car slowed. Pulled into the private garage beneath his building.

Ben was out of the seat before the engine cut, hauling you into his arms. You barely remembered the door opening. You just remember the lift of your body, the strength in his arms, the way he growled in your ear:

"Can’t fuckin’ wait."

The elevator doors shut behind you, and before it even moved—he had you against the wall.

Dress up. Legs spread. One hand braced beside your head while the other slid between your thighs and pulled the toy free with a slick sound that made your stomach drop.

He stared at it for half a second, then shoved it in his mouth, sucked it clean.

"Jesus fuck," he groaned around it. "You taste like sin."

His fingers were already working you open again, sliding through your folds like he’d die if he didn’t feel you. Your body was limp and shaking, mouth parted, helpless.

You whispered his name.

"Say it again," he growled, tongue pressing the toy against the inside of his cheek before he tossed it to the floor.

"Ben."

The elevator pinged. The doors opened.

He didn’t stop touching you. Carried you into the penthouse with your legs wrapped around him, fingers still buried inside you, mouth on your neck.

The front door slammed shut behind you with a deafening crack. And then you were pressed to it. Your spine against solid wood. His mouth on yours—biting, hungry, rough.

"My fuckin’ girl," he breathed, tongue dragging over your lower lip. "My perfect little toy."

He rolled his hips into yours, cock thick and straining through his slacks.

"You know how long I waited for this? Huh?"

You could barely nod, already panting. He kissed you again. Lower this time. Jaw. Throat. Collarbone.

"Didn’t think I’d ever find someone like you. Someone who gets it. Who gets me."

Another kiss. Another thrust.

"You’re it, baby. You’re fuckin’ it."

And he was going to ruin you. Right here. Right now.

You didn’t feel your feet hit the ground.

Ben carried you across the penthouse like you were weightless, a trembling thing made of silk and need. The city glittered ahead, sprawling and brilliant, a thousand stories blinking against the sky.

He didn’t speak—not at first.

Just pressed you to the glass. It was cool against your back, shocking in contrast to the heat rolling off your skin. You gasped, arching into him, palms flat on the surface as the world stretched out before you like a stage.

Ben’s hands slid up your thighs, dragged along the hem of your dress.

"You feel that, sweetheart?" He rasped, breath hot against your jaw. "World’s right fuckin’ there. Every light, every eye."

His lips crushed yours before you could answer.

The kiss was filthy. Wet and starved. His tongue licked into your mouth like he was claiming it, biting your lip, licking over the sting. You moaned, open and soft for him, arms around his neck as you sagged into his heat.

"Fuck, you kiss like you’re already fucked dumb," he growled, barely pulling back, lips brushing yours. "Droolin’ for it. You hear yourself?"

You whimpered. Nodded.

His hands gripped your ass, lifted you slightly, enough to press you higher to the glass.

"Should see yourself," he muttered. "Lit up like a fuckin’ exhibit. My own personal display case slut."

Your body jolted with the words, thighs squeezing around his hips.

He laughed—low and wrecked—and then he turned you. Spun you slowly, reverently, until your front pressed flush to the glass. Your hands braced high. Your cheek flattened to the cool surface. The view blurred with heat and haze.

Ben crowded in behind you, one hand on your hip, the other sliding up your spine, fingertips dancing over the zipper at the back of your dress.

"You know how long I’ve wanted this?" He murmured. "Since the first fuckin’ night. You stood right here. Right fuckin’ here. And I thought—I’m gonna fuck her against this window. Gonna press her tits to it and split her open so the city knows she’s mine."

He kissed your shoulder. Bit it.

"And you came back. You fuckin’ came back."

You moaned, shaking. His hand slid between your thighs, fingers stroking through slick heat, spreading you open.

"Christ, baby. You’re soaked. You’re drippin’ down your fuckin’ thighs."

The sound he made when he sank to his knees was almost reverent. You barely had time to register the heat of his mouth before he was licking you open, biting softly into the curve of your ass, tongue working in tight circles over your clit while you sobbed against the glass.

And then—he stood. Dropped his slacks. No warning. Grabbed your hips. Pressed in. One long, brutal thrust that knocked the air from your lungs.

You screamed. Hands slipped on the glass. Your body jolted forward, breath fogging the skyline.

"There it is," he groaned behind you. "Tight little cunt, made to be fucked right here. Right where everyone can fuckin’ see."

His thrusts were vicious. Deep. Each one lifting you onto your toes. Your cheek rubbed raw on the glass but you didn’t care.

"Look at you. Fuckin’ perfect. Ruined. Mine."

He wrapped a fist in your hair, tugged your head back.

"Don’t close your eyes. I want you to watch yourself come apart."

You could see your reflection in the faint smear of light on the glass. Blurred. Wild-eyed. Lips parted. You didn’t recognise yourself.

Ben slammed into you again. You cried out.

"Whole city’s out there, sweetheart. But I’m the only one who gets to fuckin’ touch."

You were gone. Drenched. Gutted. Wrecked on the glass like art. And he was still going. Your cheek was still pressed to the glass when he pulled out of you with a low, guttural sound—like it hurt him to stop.

"Fuck this," he growled. "Need you on the floor."

He grabbed your hips, turned you, and you didn’t even resist—your knees buckled, dress hiked, thighs slick. He dragged you down with him, your back hitting the floor with a thud that rattled your lungs. Cold marble kissed your spine. The city lights spun above like stars on fire.

Ben loomed over you, shirt open now, chest heaving. His hair was stuck to his temples, his pupils blown wide. He didn’t look human—he looked like hunger in its final form.

He pinned your wrists above your head, straddling your thighs, eyes dragging over your body like he was committing it to memory before the end of the world.

Then he spit in his hand. Stroked himself.

Slow. Mean. "You’re so fuckin’ good for me it makes me sick."

You whimpered, legs trembling. He let your wrists go just to drag his hands down your body, over the curve of your breasts, the dip of your waist, gripping your thighs until you gasped.

"I’ve had every kind of pussy," he said, voice low and ragged. "And none of it ever felt like you."

He slapped your cunt. Not hard—but enough to make you jolt. Enough to make your eyes fly open and your breath catch.

"Like God made you just to take my cock, didn’t He? Huh?"

You nodded, lips parted, helpless. A mess beneath him.

He leaned in, nose brushing yours, voice dark and reverent.

"Tell me who you fuckin’ belong to."

You choked on your breath.

"Say it. Let the city fuckin’ hear it."

"You," you breathed. "You, Ben."

He kissed you like he needed it to breathe—sloppy and deep and consuming. Then he pressed inside you again with a groan that sounded like it came from his chest.

And started to move. Hard. Deliberate. His pace was brutal, hips snapping, sweat dripping from his chest onto your skin. Every thrust punched a sound from you—soft, broken, pleading.

"That’s it," he hissed. "Fuckin’ take it." His hands fisted in your hair, dragged your mouth to his. "You’re not goin’ anywhere, you get that?"

You nodded frantically, tears pricking the corners of your eyes.

"I’d kill for you," he breathed against your jaw. "Burn this whole fuckin’ city down if someone touched what’s mine."

His thrusts stuttered. His jaw clenched.

"You’re it. You’re fuckin’ it for me."

You came with a sob—your body locking around him, clenching, shaking, teeth sunk into his shoulder. He cursed, loud and raw, bracing himself on one forearm as his other hand gripped your thigh.

"Fuck, I’m gonna—shit—I’m fuckin’—" He slammed in deep, buried to the hilt. "Take it. Take all of it, baby."

You cried out, fingers clawing at his back.

"Say you’re mine while I fill you up."

"I’m yours, Ben," you gasped. "Yours."

His hips jerked as he came—loud, guttural, filthy. You felt it spill inside you, hot and endless, his body collapsing over yours as he breathed you in like oxygen. He didn’t move right away. Just lay there, pressed to you, breath ragged, mouth at your ear.

"Mine," he whispered again.

Like a prayer. Like a promise. Like prophecy.

His chest was still pressed to yours. The air between you both felt heavy with salt and sweat and something so much deeper.

Ben didn’t speak. Not at first. He just lifted his head, gaze dragging slow over your face—like he was checking to see if you were real. Like if he blinked too fast, you’d vanish.

And then he kissed you. Soft. Just once. Not hungry. Not greedy. Just a press of his lips to yours that felt like a whisper, like a secret folded into skin. His breath stuttered as he pulled back an inch, eyes still locked to yours.

"Jesus Christ," he murmured, voice wrecked and reverent. "Look at you."

His hand traced your jaw, thumb brushing the corner of your mouth. His brow furrowed like it hurt to see you this way—wrecked and glowing, trembling and perfect.

"I don’t know how the fuck I found you," he whispered. "But I did. And I’m never lettin’ you go."

He leaned in again. Kissed your cheek. Your brow. The tip of your nose.

"Not ever. You hear me?"

You nodded, dazed. Stunned. Still too full of him to know where he ended and you began. Your fingers threaded into his hair, tugged gently until he was hovering above you again, nose brushing yours.

"Same goes for you, Ben," you said softly. "I don’t want anywhere else. I don’t want anyone else."

His breath caught. And then he kissed you again. Deeper. Slower. Tongue licking into your mouth like he needed to taste every word you just gave him. His hands held your face like you were breakable. Precious. His. The kiss didn’t ask. It didn’t take. It promised.

When he finally pulled away, his lips were pink and swollen, and his eyes were dark with something softer than lust.

Something terrifying.

"Mine," he murmured against your mouth.

A whisper. A vow.

"Fuckin’ mine."

And you were.

You always would be.

Power is not always taken. Sometimes, it is worshipped. Wrapped in silk and spit, crushed between bodies, bared beneath glass. Given freely, and never returned.

It begins with a glance. A single indulgence. A breathless yes.

And ends here—on a pedestal of bruises and diamonds, teeth and devotion. A prize. A possession. A ruin dressed in reverence.

Because men like him do not love. They claim.

And some altars are built just to be bled on.

@mostlymarvelgirl @losers-clvb @lunaleah. @itshellfire @drakulana @sl33pylilbunny @suckitands33 @nevercameraready @kayleighwinchester @lyarr24 @imtheworst123 @podiumackles @spxideyver @tinas111 @ohgodimgoungtodie @cevansbaby-dove @paristheonewhoreads @winchestersbgirl <3

[nerdy-novelist017]

https://www.tumblr.com/nerdy-novelist017/754460919348740096/benny-cross-is-the-definition-of-scary-boyfriend

Ok yes but also I wanted him to protect Kathy so bad and it just. Never happened 💔💔

We can fix it with fanfiction ;) Enjoy another one shot to pair with my Benny x Bunny series! Again this isn't the next part, just a little idea I had!

Word Count-2.2k+

Summary- Head wounds look a lot worse than they actually are, at least that's what you were trying to tell Benny, but he was so worried, you doubt he's hearing you.

Warnings- Blood, Violence

Broken Glass (Benny Cross x Shy!Reader)

The bar was crowded. You’d never seen so many Vandals gathered in one place in a long time. With an abundance of fresh faces wearing the colors, it was almost like a completely new club. 

Your knee bounced as anxiety manifested itself into your body. You weren’t so nervous of the familiar faces that sat around your table. Johnny, Brucie, Gail, Kathy, Wahoo, Corky — those people no longer made you nervous. They were family now. It was all the onslaught of new Vandals that cursed, shouted and drank across the room. 

A warm hand encased your knee, pressing down, firmly locking your foot to the ground. You smiled as Benny leaned into you, his lips softly touching your neck in a gentle kiss. His way of calming your nerves. And it worked every time. 

“Alright, I’m gonna break the bad news to ‘em,” Johnny announced as he stood from his chair. The bad news was that some new members of the Vandals had been running up the tab at the bar and not paying for it. An entire week had gone by without them paying for any of their drinks — and they drank a lot.

Brucie stood next to him, cranking his neck to the side with a pop. “This oughta go over well.”

“It doesn’t have to be a fight,” Johnny muttered with a sigh. Despite running one of the most revered motorcycle clubs in the midwest, Johnny was surprisingly non confrontational at times. He knew what needed to be done, he just didn’t like having to do it. “Not everything has to be a fight. It’s just going to be a conversation.”

“Good luck!” you smiled, giving him a thumbs-up. 

“Thanks, kid,” Johnny answered with his usual reserved patience for you and the two left, weaving their way through the crowded room. Benny started to stand too, but you grabbed onto his arm, tugging firmly at his jacket sleeve.

“It’s not gonna be a fight, Benny. Please don’t make it a fight.” You pleaded quietly, giving him your best doe-eyed look that you knew could get you almost anything you wanted. 

“I ain’t gonna make it a fight,” Benny argued but reluctantly sat back down next to you. “I can be civil.”

History begged to differ, you wanted to say but instead lifted your cold bottle of pop to your lips in an excuse not to answer. You laced your fingers with his as you brought his arm back around your shoulder, anchoring him to you.

Minutes ticked by and you fell back into a conversation with Kathy and Gail while Benny’s attention remained focused on Johnny and the conversation across the crowded bar. Voices rose in shouting and suddenly Johnny was shoved back by one of the new Vandals members. Then fists started flying. 

“Shit,” Benny cursed and, quick as light, slid out from your booth and rushed across the bar to join the fight. You called after him hopelessly, your pleas falling on deaf ears. 

“You think these guys will ever think with their brains and not their dicks all the time?” Kathy asked sarcastically as she casually sipped at her beer.

The fight grew larger as more members of the club joined in, and you lost sight of Benny in the tumble. You bit your lip, eyes surveying the crowd anxiously. You hated to see him fight, having cried the first time you witnessed it. It was unfair that he put himself into danger like that, without a care in the world if he got seriously hurt. But that was a part of loving Benny; He was always ready to fight with the drop of a hat. 

“Oh no,” you gasped softly as you saw a man twice his size suddenly appear through the crowd, slamming Benny to the ground.

Standing quickly, you barely heard the warnings of Kathy and Gail for you to stay out of it over the pounding of your heart. You pushed your way through the crowd, desperate to get to Benny, to help him. Bodies knocked into you, sending your hip clashing hard against the pool table, but you continued on, stumbling as you went. 

Finally you caught sight of him again, this time on top of the other Vandal member, beating down on him mercilessly.

“Benny!” You called out for him, but your voice was lost in the ocean of noise. Your fingertips just barely grazed his shoulder before you were knocked back. 

Suddenly something connected with the side of your head, a sickening crashing sound, and you were knocked off your feet. White hot pain shot through your elbow as it was the first to hit the floor below you. You landed hard on your side, the wind knocked from your lungs prevented you from crying out. The side of your head erupted in hot pain from the impact and it took you a couple of seconds to even register that you were on the cold ground now.  

Your ears immediately rang as if you were standing right below a church bell during Sunday service, drowning out all other noise. But the rest of the bar seemed to freeze in shock when they saw you go down, all stunned to see their youngest member’s girl caught on the losing side of a fight. 

You blinked hard, vision filling with stars, but you were able to make out the broken glass littering the floor around you. It took you longer than necessary to understand that you had been hit on the side of your head with a beer bottle. Attempting to look up to see the person who hit you, a cry left your throat at the pain of moving your head

Then that’s when all hell broke loose for the second time in a ten minute span. Johnny appeared in your line of vision, throwing a nasty right hook against the blurry figure of the man who hit you. He went down and a crowd gathered around him, legs kicking and fists flying. 

You blinked hard again, feeling something warm running down into your right eye as Benny’s face suddenly materialized before you.

“B—Benny?” Your voice sounded so small and you hated the way you couldn’t tell if he was real or just an illusion of the person you wanted most when you were scared. 

“Oh my god.” His voice sounded strained and you wanted to ask him if he was okay, if he was hurt, but your body felt oddly disconnected from your mind.

He moved closer to you, the glass shards crunching beneath his boots, and he slid one hand behind your back and the other under your knees. Then suddenly you were being lifted in the air, carried away from the chaos of the bar. Benny used his boot to kick open the back door and a rush of cool breeze greeted you first as he relocated you to Kathy’s pickup truck in the back parking lot. Pausing at the rear of the truck, he used the hand under your knees to lower the tailgate. He placed you into a sitting position on the bed of the truck, stepping between your legs, his face is right back in front of yours again. 

The afternoon sun hanging low in the west gave you enough light to inspect his face for any injuries. There’s a split forming on his bottom lip. You reached forward and touched the injury with a fingertip, trying to gauge the severity. He would need to put ice on it before the swelling started. Although you can’t find any other noticeable signs of injury, his face was so contorted in torment, in. . . something else you had never seen before. Not quite anger, you’ve seen that plenty of times (never directed at you).

You tried to catch his eye, but he was so focused on the spot above your brow where your hairline met your forehead. He retrieved a bandana from his jeans and moved forward. Instinctively, you leaned away, your own hand reaching up to touch the spot that drummed with pain. Warm, sticky substance covered that place and you pulled your hand back to discover deep crimson dripping from your fingers. 

“You’re bleedin’ real bad,” Benny said and only then did you realize that was your blood on your fingers. He tried again and this time you didn’t pull away as he gently pressed the bandana to your flesh. You gasped at the contact, squeezing your eyes shut from the sting.

“I know, baby.” His voice was barely above a whisper. “But you’re bleedin’ real bad.”

You knew that, you wanted to say. You could see it on your fingers, that awful deep red glistening in the sunlight. Your fingers blurred slightly and you blinked a few times to try to clear your vision. But it wasn’t your vision, you realized, it was your hands shaking. Suddenly aware of the sensation, you noticed your whole body was trembling. 

Another voice sounded beside you.

“Oh my god. Is she okay?” It was Kathy, you knew without even looking up.

“I need some water.” Benny said. “Please.”

That's when you realized it was fear in his voice. You’d never heard Benny sound so desperate, so scared. You wanted to grab his hand and tell him that you were okay, that you just needed a moment for the ringing in your ears to stop and then you’d be alright. Really, it was him that you were more worried about than anything else. You looked back up at his face, eyes falling on his split lip once more. 

“I–I’m okay, Benny,” you whispered, reaching for the bandana.

His free hand locked around your wrist, pulling it away from your head, stopping you from removing the bandana. “Don’t touch it, honey.”

The pain was subsiding, you wanted to say, even if it wasn’t really. You just wanted to calm him down. He let your wrist slide through his grasp and you reached out to gently touch his lip. “Are you okay?”

“Am I okay?” he repeated incredulously, brows knitted together. “Bunny, you’re bleeding like you just took on an army and you’re asking me if I’m okay?”

“Head injuries bleed a lot more . . . They’re heavy bleeders because of the blood flow to your brain.” You attempted to ease his worry with your fun fact. 

He looked unconvinced, pulling back the bandana to peek. “Yeah, where’d you hear that? One of your books?”

“Yeah,” you smiled sheepishly at him and Benny’s heart squeezed at the sight. You were so. . . small. So fragile looking sitting here with his bandana pressing against your pretty little head, legs hanging off the tailgate. Benny had to remind himself to take a breath, to focus on controlling his shaking hands. Had to tell himself to be strong for you. You needed him now. He'd be there for you.

Kathy returned with a bottle of water and Benny moved to the side a little, still firmly pressing his hand against your head. “For her hands,” he said.

She uncapped the bottle and gently pulled your hands out over the edge as she poured a stream of the cool water to rinse the crimson from your skin. You glanced down and made a sound. “Aww, no. My shirt. . .”

Benny followed your gaze to the once baby pink shirt now stained with booze and fresh anger coursed through his veins, setting his head swirling with images of strangling the man who touched his girl. You were one of the few good thing - pure thing - left in his world and the fact that someone dared to touch you, to hurt you, set Benny's jaw so tightly that he thought his teeth might crack.  

With the creak from the backdoor opening, Johnny and Brucie came out, rounding the truck. 

“How’s she?” Johnny asked and Benny glanced at his friend. Whatever expression Benny must have shot him caused Johnny to grimace. He moved closer to the two, putting a comforting hand on Benny’s shoulder. “Lemme see.”

Reluctantly, Benny lowered the bandana and Johnny hummed.

“Alright, ain’t that bad,” Johnny assured calmly and nodded at you as he spoke. “Ain’t that bad. The head bleeds a lot, always looks worse than it is.”

“See? I told you.” You quipped, fingers finding the beltloops of his jeans and pulling him lightly. Benny sighed through his nose. 

“She’s gonna need stitches,” Brucie spoke from behind. 

“Can you take her to the hospital?” Benny asked Kathy who nodded instantly as she stepped forward and replaced his hands as he moved back.

“Woah woah, what do you think you’re doin’ in the meantime?” Johnny questioned, already knowing what Benny planned to do.

“I’m gonna go kill him,” Benny declared as if it were obvious.

“No, Benny–” you started but Benny had already pulled away from you, making his way back to the door. He already planted the seed in his mind. He wouldn’t let anyone do anything to you and still have the ability to walk above the ground. This guy needed to be six feet under already. It was Johnny’s hand who grabbed his upper arm, Johnny who stopped him in his tracks.

“No, Benny,” he said quietly, leaning into Benny’s space. “You ain’t goin’ back in there.”

“He–” Benny started, unable to get the image of you laying on the floor of the bar out of his head. He wanted to kill him. He wanted him to hurt. He didn’t care if he’d be arrested for it. He’d been arrested for a lot less before. 

“No,” Johnny’s voice cut him off. “You go take care of Bunny now. We’ll take care of this piece of shit. Hey, you hear me? We’ll take care of it.”

Benny held Johnny’s intense gaze as he considered his next move. He wanted to be the one to take care of it, but the severity in Johnny’s voice, the rigid way his shoulders fell up and down with his breath, the carefully selected words– Benny knew that this man who hurt you would never be a problem again. Johnny wouldn’t let him be because you were an integral part of the Vandals. And they protected their own. 

“Okay,” Benny relented, taking a step back, eyes flickering to your small form still sitting on the tailgate. When he looked back at Johnny, the glint of his brass knuckles caught his eye as he pulled them from his pocket, sliding it snuggly over his fingers.

“Go take Bunny to the hospital. We’ll meet you there when we’re finished.”

"Okay," Benny repeated and he believed him.

-Tag List-

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[lovelyyys]

ddlg with logan?

amazing ideas you guys are giving me like… HELLO

(female reader, dom!logan, 18+!!!!!!)

Logan was never the type of guy to be into being called daddy, or being crazy dominant with you. He thought it was a little strange that people would like this. Not until you suggested he try it for once, he agreed wanting to make you happy. Only does he know he’s about to like it. Or more so love it.

You were waiting on the couch of your guys apartment. In the lingerie he bought you to be exact. The pink one that had flowers at the top of the bra. The one where your breasts filled out nicely. The one where the lace made him want to beg on his knees. The one that he liked. A lot. You had heard the front door to your guys apartment open, then shut from the hall. The second that he has stepped in, you could smell his musk, how he smelled like black coffee and perhaps a little sweaty. Nothing to serious though. You turned your head around. Eyes meeting his cold dark ones. His eyes filled with surprise as they met your warm kind ones. “What’s with the getup?” He laughed. His head nodding to your lingerie, he was already getting hard as a rock in his jeans just watching you sit on the couch. Your perfect body in that…

Rolling your eyes a bit, you sat up on your knees and pushed your hair behind your ears. Licking your lips and leaning your head a bit on the couch. Admiring him, not to mention watching his every breathe. He was always so anxious. So maybe for once he could just take complete control of you and fuck you like the doll you were. “I told you I wanted to try something out Lo…” You giggled. Batting your eyelashes at him as you looked up at him ever so lovingly.

He chuckled a bit. Not before rubbing his hand on the back of his neck and replying to you. “Oh I know. So uh. What do I do?” You shrugged. “I dunno, whatever feels normal?” He nodded. “Hey but not too normal ey? Gotta be rough no?” He smirked, taking off his flannel. Running a hand through his messy hair. You giggled once again nodding, you were about to get up until Logan clicked with his tongue, motioning you to come over and sit on his lap. Obviously you did. Your hips met his clothed thighs. His eyes traced your body. His hands going to grip your hips. “Mmm.” He hummed. He was just so.. manly… and sexy… and hot… and so fuckable… without noticing your started grinding on his right thigh. Holding onto his thick shoulders that you could pry your legs upon later whenever he decided it was time to fuck you.

“Leaving a mess already. I just bought these last week c’mon baby.” He groaned out. Even though he complained, you knew he wouldn’t ever let you stop. So of course the only reasonable thing to do was to continue fucking yourself on him. “I told you you’re leaving a mess. Soaking my fucking pants already.” Logan snarled

“What?” You asked. “What do you mean what? Don’t get bratty with me already.” He responded. You raised a brow, someone’s got a temper. Not before picking you up taking you to your shared room. Laying you on the bed infront of the mirror. “On your knees baby.” He commanded. Giving your plush ass a small slap. You got on all four, facing the mirror and watching him crawl over your body. His hand tracing your neck. Not before cupping your face. “You gonna be good?” A nod was all that came out of you.

“Need to hear you say it.”

“Yes.”

He took off his pants, pulling out his hardened cock out from his pants. Hot red puffy tip begging to find some sort of relief, teasing it at the entrance. You whined leaning back a little. “Needy little thing aren’t you?” Logan growled. He leaned forward kissing and nipping at your neck. “What do you say baby?”

“Please.”

“Please what.”

“Please daddy.” You whined again, not before he shoved his fat cock inside of your tight cunt. Moaning out his name. It made its way inside. You could feel every vein on his hard dick pulsing as you squeezed around him. Even though sex was a regular thing, you never quite got used to the feeling of it. A low guttural moan was released from him as his began to move. You could see in the mirror the wicked grin on his face. He kept it at a conversational pace. Enough were he could hear those pretty little moans of yours while still making sure you understood you were his girl. His to fuck. His to claim. His to make love to.

With every clench of your pussy, you panted and moaned. Writhing under him as he forced you to look into the mirror. “Look at you.. so pretty for me.”

Pretty.

You let out a moan at his praise, he smirked instead of a grin. He knew that you found pleasure in praising. But what if he didn’t praise you? Would you still be as wet as a damn waterfall and just want to be his baby? Only one way to find out.

“My whore.”

You stopped moaning, a little confused. Eyes meeting his in the mirror. “You don’t like that?” He asked you unsure if he did something to make you uncomfortable. His thrusts stopping for a moment. “No- I like it.” You grinned. “Just unexpected.”

At that moment it’s like something switched in him. He flipped you on your back.

“I knew it. Such a slut for me aren’t you?” Logan laughed. Finding pleasure in your humiliation, he began to fuck into you. Staring into your eyes, pleading at him. “Open your mouth.” He snarled. You opened. Sticking your tongue out a bit for him too. The rugged man spat in your mouth. “Keep it there and suck.” He added, Shoving two fingers into your mouth. You hummed against his thick fingers. Kind of wishing it was his dick penetrating your mouth instead of your pussy.

“Like all your holes being filled hmm? Should I fuck your ass next?” He threatened. Not in a condescending way but in a way that made you even wetter. You nodded profusely. “I’ll save it for next time baby.” You nodded. Still sucking, kind of wishing he would fuck you in all 3. You were so good for your daddy after all!

After a while, his thrusts started to falter. His pace speeding up somehow? “Gonna fill you up. Gonna fill my baby up.” He moaned. Closing his eyes. “Gonna make you swell up with my fucking litter.” He laughed. He liked the idea. Watching your belly just grow knowing you had his kid in there. Or kids. Who knew? Maybe twins ran in his family. Or yours.

His hot cum gushed in your tight little hole. The liquid threading to leak out, but Logan didn’t allow that as he pressed up into you. Tip kissing your cervix. Surely it would be bruised by tomorrow.

Nothing that daddy can’t take care of though… :)

I didn’t really know how to write a ddlg fic since it’s my first time doing one but I really hope you like it!! Keep asking me things!

P.S. Nsfw alphabet on the way!!! Keep an eye out for it ;)!!

xoxo

[natsaffection]

just read your wandanat fic and it made me think of some thought of the that has had me on a spiral lately.

so imagine you have direct orders from both of them to not touch yourself but one day you are so needy you can’t help but touch a little and end up being caught red-handed by natasha.

of course she takes matters on her own hands and decides to punish you until wanda comes home. when she finally does, after a long wait, she makes a turn in nat’s ministrations, and decides you been edged long enough and you should pass to another form of torture. so now you are all over the edge and tied up to a chair (maybe with tendrils of wanda’s magic) forced to watch wanda fucking herself with nat’s cock. even if you are not having any sort of stimulation in that position, you can’t help but cum thanks to the scene in front of you and capting their attention again in the process.

that has been on my mind for literally weeks and if you could extend it into an actual thing, i’d love to read it!

Helpless Desire. | WandaNat

Dom!Natasha x Fem!Reader x Dom! Wanda

Warnings: 18+! MINORS DNI! G!P Natasha, Heavy edging, Restraints and held to a chair by magic, Begging, beeing forced to watch people have sex, multiple orgasm

Word Count: 1,2k

A/N: I wrote this during a family dinner and almost went wild in my chair..🧎🏻‍♀️

You had clear instructions from Natasha and Wanda. Do not touch yourself. But the temptation gnawed at you today, a constant pain you tried to control. Today, the need was overwhelming. Alone in the apartment, your fingers hesitantly slid down your body, searching for relief. Just as you began to give in, the front door opened, and there stood Natasha, catching you in the act. “What do you think you’re doing?” Natasha’s voice was a dangerous purr.

Your breath hitched. “F-Fuck! I-I’m sorry! I…I couldn’t-” you stammered, your cheeks flushing with a mix of guilt and arousal. Natasha’s eyes narrowed, a smile playing on her lips. “Oh, you’ll regret this. Hands off, now.”

You pulled your hands back, slightly trembling. Natasha’s presence was commanding, her disappointment palpable. She approached you, her movements predatory, and grabbed your wrists. With quick, decisive movements, she bound your wrists together with the soft restraints they often used in their sessions, leaving you vulnerable and exposed.

“You couldn’t wait, could you?” Natasha’s voice was a mix of amusement and frustration. “I thought we taught you better.” You bit your lip, your eyes pleading. “I’m sorry, Natasha, please, I was just…n-needy…”

“Needy? Oh, we’ll see about that,” Natasha replied ominously. Natasha’s hands were everywhere, teasing, pinching, and spanking, driving you to the brink of madness but never letting you fully go over the edge. Every touch was a reminder of your disobedience, every caress a tantalizing promise of what you couldn’t have. Your body writhed, your hips bucking against the restraints, desperately seeking more contact, more friction.

“Please, I need to- cum..!” you pleaded, your voice breaking with desperation, quickly cut off. “Silence,” Natasha snapped, her eyes narrowing. “You speak only when spoken to.”

Hours seemed to pass, the pleasure and frustration growing unbearable. Your body was a live wire, every nerve ending burning. Just as you thought you couldn’t take anymore, the front door opened again, and Wanda entered. Her eyes darkened as she took in the scene before her.

“What’s going on here?” Wanda asked, her voice deceptively calm, though it was clear she knew exactly what had happened. “She couldn’t control herself.“ Natasha explained, not stopping her touches on your trembling body.

Wanda’s lips curled into a wicked smile. “Well, I think she’s been teased long enough, don’t you? Let’s change things up.”

With a flick of her wrist, strands of Wanda’s magic wrapped around you, lifting you from the bed and setting you into a chair. The magical restraints held you in place, forcing you to watch as Wanda and Natasha turned to each other.

“Sit right there and don’t take your eyes off us,” Wanda commanded, her voice full of authority. Your breath came in short gasps as Wanda’s magic undressed her effortlessly, and Natasha’s clothes soon followed. The sight of their naked bodies, so intimately familiar yet always arousing, left your mouth dry.

Wanda positioned herself over Natasha and took her lover’s shaft with a guttural moan. The sight was mesmerizing, and your body ached with a need that was almost painful.

“See what you could have if you just followed orders?” Wanda said, her eyes on you. “Watch closely, ahh~” Natasha’s hands gripped Wanda’s hips, guiding her movements as she thrust upward. The room filled with the sounds of their pleasure, each moan and gasp driving you closer to the edge. You writhed against the restraints, desperate for relief.

“Do you like what you see, Detka?” Natasha teased, her voice thick with desire. “This is what you miss when you’re disobedient.”

“God, please! Natasha, Wanda… I-” you begged, your eyes fixed on the scene before you. The sight of Wanda riding Natasha, the sounds of their pleasure, was too much. “It hurts, please let me join, please!”

Your pussy throbbed, desperate for attention, and you felt like you would explode from the sheer intensity of your arousal. “You brought this on yourself, Y/n,” Natasha said, panting, “Now you have to watch.”

You tried to look away, your face flushed with a mix of embarrassment and frustration, but Wanda’s magic forced your head back, making you watch every second. The magic intensified your helplessness.

“N-No!!” you cried out, tears now flowing freely. “Fuck! I’ll do anything!!” Wanda moved faster on Natasha, her lips curling into a cruel smile. “You’ll watch and endure, my dear.”

As Natasha and Wanda’s rhythm grew rougher and faster, you could feel the pressure building inside you. The sounds of their pleasure filled the room, each moan and gasp sending waves of lust through your body.

Wanda’s gaze fixed on you again, a wicked smile playing on her lips. “Look at you, so needy,” she teased. “You think you deserve to be freed after being disobedient-“

But suddenly, your body convulsed as you came, a powerful climax that left you gasping for air. For a moment, you didn’t even realize you had cum, your mind overwhelmed by the sight and sounds before you. The sudden orgasm caught the attention of Natasha and Wanda, their expressions shifting from surprise to amusement.

“Did you just come? Without permission, no less?” Natasha’s voice was sharp, cutting through your haze of pleasure. You looked confused at your mess. “I… I didn’t mean to… I don’t even know-”

“Now you’ve really done it,” Wanda said, her voice dripping with satisfaction. Natasha and Wanda exchanged a look, and Wanda’s magic tightened around you, holding you firm. “Let’s see how you handle round two,” Natasha said, her voice cold and commanding.

Natasha stepped aside, allowing Wanda to take center stage. With a flick of her wrist, Wanda summoned more magical threads, wrapping around your body, teasing and tormenting your sensitive spots.

“W-What…,” you whimpered, your body already exhausted from the intense orgasm. “No, please no…”

The magical threads danced over your skin, teasing your nipples, brushing your clit, sending waves of sensation through your already oversensitive body with no escape. “Please, please-” you begged, your voice breaking. “I’ll be good, I promise..!“

“You should have thought of that earlier,” Natasha said, her voice a deep growl. The magical threads continued their relentless torment, driving you to the brink once more. You writhed and struggled, your body a mix of pain and pleasure, your mind a fog of desperation. The room was filled with the sounds of your cries and the moans of Natasha and Wanda as they pleasured themselves.

Finally, the magic brought you to another peak, your body convulsing with the intensity. You screamed, your vision blurring as you were driven over the edge once more.

As the waves of pleasure subsided, you slumped in the chair, your body trembling and exhausted. Natasha and Wanda approached you, their expressions a mix of satisfaction and approval.

“Now you might think twice before being disobedient,” Natasha said, her voice soft but firm. Wanda gently stroked your hair, a rare moment of tenderness. “Rest now. You’ve earned it.”

[starrdream]

Unsatisfied apology

Anakin Skywalker x f!reader summary: Anakin wants to make up... includes: not really smut but it's talked about and implied, whiny Anakin, make up sex, fast finishing, no orgasm

Your ex has fucked just about any girl that would let him in hopes of getting over you. As if your friends reminding you constantly wasn’t enough, anyone passing by his room could hear clearly. News flash, it didn’t help him one bit.

Though, the rumor that he still wasn’t over you did feed your ego.

One night, you were mindlessly revising for some tests you had later that week when a knock disturbed you. 

“Baby, please open the door. I need to talk to you.” The whiny yet familiar voice still made your heart skip a beat. Or two.

He must be drunk. You thought.

“What?” You huff as you open the door. Not only were you met with a completely sober Anakin, you were met with a crying one too.

Tears streaked down his rosy cheeks, eyes puffy and red. Who knows how long he was crying for.

“What’s wrong?” You asked, voice laced with concern.

“Can we talk?” He sniffles.

“Yeah” You blurted out before you could even think twice.

Opening the door further, you let him in. Ankin takes a seat on your bed and waits for you to join him.

The second you sat down he started ranting about everything.

“Baby I missed you so much…”

“I fucked up really bad, I know.”

“You’re all I ever think about.”

“I’ll never be over you.”

“I’ve been awful since the day we broke up.”

“No other girl compares to you..”

“Please..Give me another chance, my love.”

He pleaded and whined, all while still sobbing. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t considering it. Just one look at those blue eyes was enough to tear down any kind of resistance you’ve built over time.

“Please baby.” He begged. “Nobody is as good to me as you are. I’m so sorry” He whined, staring at you through teary eyes.

“I don’t know Ani..” You sighed, shoulders slumping.

“But you’re thinking about it.” He straightened up, a hint of excitement in his voice. “Please” He breaks off into a sob. “Let me make it up to you.”

With that, he pushes you down on the bed gently, climbing on top of you.

“Ani-” You try to protest, placing your hand on his upper arm. Unfortunately your voice comes out as a desperate whimper more than anything else, only urging him on.

“I’m so sorry for how I treated you baby” He mumbles, slipping your shirt off. He continues mumbling incoherent words that are interrupted by sobs and hiccups as he undresses you.

“Please say you forgive me..” He stares right into your eyes as he palms himself through his pants before slipping them down to free his rock hard cock.

God knows how long that was there.

“O-okay, I forgive you” You mumble, trying not to laugh at how childish he looks.

“You’re just saying that.” He pouts, sobbing again.

The next 5, 6 minutes of your life were the most confusing ones ever. 

Anakin is borderline desperate and his movements are jerky and uncoordinated. He's ground against your thigh like a puppy for at least 3 minutes before finally pushing his erection into your warmth.

He is good in bed, but this? If you didn’t know any better you could’ve easily brushed him off as a virgin.

He's whining and whimpering with every shallow thrust, his entire body shaking with the force of his sobs.

Obviously, he did NOT make you finish before he did. He didn’t make you finish at all. The second he spilled inside of you, he collapsed on top of you while breathing heavily.

Upon realizing you were still very much unsatisfied he cried again.

"I'm sorry..I'm so sorry baby. I'm sorry.." He kept mumbling over and over for another 5 minutes through his soft cries.

Shoulders shaking, face going numb as he cuddled you. The tight hold he had on you while crying loosened overtime as he fell asleep.

[rvp32]

Whisper of uncontrollable desire. Part 2

My first time writing in a very long time so please show some mercy. Also, this entire story was written in 2 days after seeing the request. Please enjoy and as always any feedback is appreciated.

Giving out punishments was something Eunbi enjoyed immensely. The thrill of asserting control and seeing her obedient girls submit brought her a sense of satisfaction that was hard to match. Tonight, it was Chaewon’s turn. Being the good and obedient girl that she was, Chaewon willingly let herself be stripped and tied up without any resistance. She trusted Eunbi, even though she feared the severity of the impending punishment.

“Mommy, please don’t be too harsh on me. It slipped my mind because of all the activities we had,” Chaewon begged, her voice trembling. Her precious, wide pupu eyes looked up at Eunbi with a pleading expression, hoping to melt her stern demeanor. She knew Eunbi’s punishments could be intense—so intense that they had once led to the cancellation of schedules for two entire weeks after Sakura’s ordeal.

Eunbi’s gaze softened momentarily as she looked down at Chaewon, taking in the sight of her trembling form and tear-filled eyes. She could see the genuine remorse and fear in Chaewon’s expression. Yet, the power she held in moments like these was intoxicating, and she relished the thought of pushing her limits.

“Chaewon, you know I can’t go easy on you just because you’re my favorite,” Eunbi said, her voice firm yet tinged with a hint of warmth. She stroked Chaewon’s cheek gently, the contrast of her touch and her words sending shivers down the younger girl’s spine. “You have to learn to be more careful.”

Tears began to well up in Chaewon’s eyes. “I’m so sorry, Mommy. I promise I’ll do better,” she whispered, her voice breaking. She knew that begging might not help, but she couldn’t help but try. The memory of Sakura’s punishment haunted her, and she dreaded enduring something similar.

Eunbi smiled softly, enjoying the mix of fear and anticipation in Chaewon’s eyes. “We’ll see about that, my dear,” she said, her tone a mix of teasing and seriousness. She reached for her tools, each movement deliberate and unhurried, savoring the growing tension.

Chaewon’s heart raced as she watched Eunbi prepare, her mind filled with a chaotic blend of fear, anticipation, and trust. She knew that despite the harshness of the punishment, Eunbi cared deeply for her. That thought was her only solace as she braced herself for what was to come.

“Now, let’s begin,” Eunbi whispered, leaning close to Chaewon’s ear, her breath warm against her skin. “Remember, this is for your own good.”

Chaewon looked to you, “Daddy, Please ask Mommy to show some mercy. I will never forget to take my suppressants again!”

Being the alpha meant that you also had to supervise all the punishments a duty that you didn’t particularly enjoy every time it happened but knew it was necessary. “I am sorry princess but rules are rules.”

And with that last plea, the room was filled with a mix of soft whimpers because of the tool present in Eunbi’s hand, it was a clit focused vibrator, a really strong vibrator that Chaewon loved to use when she got horny but one issue was that this vibrator is too strong. 

Not caring for Chaewon’s whimpers, with the press of a button the toy comes to life. Eunbi places it on the Chaewon’s sensitive bud causing a loud scream. “Mommy!”

Eunbi’s face had a smirk, one so evil that it sent shivers down Chaewon’s spine. Eunbi’s sadistic needs were clearly being satisfied with all the screaming and begging Chaewon was doing. As the punishment intensified, Chaewon’s cries echoed through the room, each one a mix of pain, regret, and a twisted sense of devotion.

“Mommy, please! I’m sorry, I really am!” Chaewon’s voice cracked as she pleaded, her body straining against the restraints. Every word was soaked in desperation, her fear palpable.

Eunbi’s smirk only widened. “I know you are, sweetie,” she said, her tone condescending and cold. “But you have to understand the consequences of your actions.” Her hands moved with calculated precision, each motion deliberate and unyielding.

Chaewon’s body trembled as the pain and pleasure surged through her. Despite the agony, a part of her clung to the belief that this was all for her own good. She trusted Eunbi completely, even in this moment of torment.

“Do you remember why you’re being punished, Chaewon?” Eunbi’s voice was calm, almost soothing, a stark contrast to the intensity of her actions.

“Yes, Mommy,” Chaewon whimpered, her voice barely audible. “I-I wasn’t careful enough… I forgot my suppressants… I’m so sorry…”

“That’s right,” Eunbi said, her hand pausing for a moment as she cupped Chaewon’s cheek gently. “You need to be more responsible. We can’t afford mistakes, can we?”

“N-no, Mommy,” Chaewon stammered, tears streaming down her face. “I’ll be more careful, I promise.”

Eunbi leaned in closer, her breath hot against Chaewon’s ear. “Good girl,” she whispered, her voice sending a chill down Chaewon’s spine. “But promises aren’t enough. You have to prove it.”

The room was filled with the sound of Chaewon’s sobs and Eunbi’s steady, commanding presence. Each whimper and cry only seemed to fuel Eunbi’s sadistic pleasure, her eyes gleaming with satisfaction.

As the minutes ticked by, the punishment continued relentlessly. Chaewon’s body was pushed to its limits, her mind teetering on the edge of exhaustion and pain. Yet, through it all, she clung to the belief that this was for her own good, that Eunbi’s harshness was a twisted form of care.

The room was filled with the smell of sex and the floor coated with Chaewon’s overstimulated pussy juice. The whimpers now turned into screams begging for mercy with incoherent words and sentences. 

“Are you learning your lesson, Chaewon?” Eunbi asked, her voice softening just enough to offer a sliver of comfort.

“Yes, Mommy,” Chaewon gasped, her voice hoarse from screaming. “I-I’ll be better… I’ll do anything to make you proud…”

Eunbi’s expression softened slightly, a hint of warmth breaking through her stern facade. “I know you will, my dear,” she said, her hand stroking Chaewon’s hair gently. “This is all for you, remember that.”

“I-I will, Mommy,” Chaewon whispered, her voice trembling. “I’ll remember…”

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Eunbi’s harsh ministrations began to slow. She took a step back, her eyes still fixed on Chaewon’s trembling form. The room was thick with the aftermath of the intense punishment, the air heavy with the scent of sweat and tears.

Eunbi untied Chaewon gently, her touch surprisingly tender now. “You did well, Chaewon,” she said softly, pulling her into a comforting embrace. “I’m proud of you for enduring this.”

Walking up to Chaewon you embraced her after Eunbi let go. Chaewon clung to you, her body weak and trembling. Despite the pain and pleasure, a sense of relief washed over you. She had endured the punishment, and in some twisted way, it made you want to fuck her and completely break her mind such that it only ever listens to you.

“Thank you, Daddy,” Chaewon whispered, her voice barely audible. “I’ll do better… I promise…”

You smiled a genuine warmth in her eyes now. “I know you will, my dear,” you said, holding Chaewon close. “I believe in you.”

Chaewon was exhausted and desperately needed rest, so you took her to your room and gently helped her into a warm bath. The soothing water and your tender care slowly washed away the physical and emotional strain from the punishment. Chaewon’s eyes fluttered closed as she leaned into your touch, feeling safe and cherished despite the earlier ordeal.

After the bath, you dried Chaewon off with a soft towel and dressed her in comfortable pajamas. You guided her to the bed, pulling the covers over her and ensuring she was snug and warm. As you turned to leave, intending to give Chaewon the rest she desperately needed, you felt a gentle tug on your hand.

“Daddy, please stay,” Chaewon whispered, her voice barely audible and filled with a childlike plea. Her eyes, though heavy with sleep, held a deep yearning for comfort and security.

Your heart melted at the sight of Chaewon's vulnerability. You couldn't bring yourself to leave. With a soft smile, you sat beside her on the bed, your fingers gently running through her silky hair. The rhythmic motion seemed to soothe you both, the tension of the night slowly dissolving into a peaceful calm.

Chaewon’s breathing steadied as she fell into a deep sleep, her face relaxing into an expression of tranquility. You continued to stroke her hair, watching over her with a protective gaze. The room was silent except for the soft sounds of your breathing, a stark contrast to the chaos and intensity of earlier.

You felt your own eyelids grow heavy as you continued to watch over Chaewon. The exhaustion of the night caught up with you, and soon you found yourself lying down beside her, your hand still gently tangled in her hair.

******

Since Lesserafim was taking a break now, the girls had a lot of free time, and you also decided to work from home. After Chaewon’s punishment and her subsequent heat, she had become excessively clingy to you. Not that you minded; she was so cute and always made it fun to be around her. Her presence, even in her clinginess, brought a lightness to your days that you cherished.

As you sat at your desk, trying to focus on the work in front of you, Chaewon was perched comfortably on your lap, her attention divided between her phone and you. Every so often, she would look up at you with a soft smile, her eyes sparkling with affection. Her closeness was a constant, warm reminder of the bond you shared.

What you failed to notice was the jealous gaze cast toward you from across the room. Sakura, who had been watching the two of you for a while, couldn’t help but feel a pang of envy. She remembered her own time in your arms, the comfort and attention you had lavished on her, and now she felt a sense of longing for that same affection.

Sakura’s eyes narrowed slightly as she observed Chaewon snuggling closer to you, a soft giggle escaping her lips as she showed you something on her phone. The sight stirred something deep within Sakura, a mix of jealousy and a yearning for the same intimacy.

You were blissfully unaware of Sakura’s growing discontent. You chuckled at something Chaewon had shown you, wrapping an arm around her waist to steady her as she shifted on your lap. Chaewon’s presence was calming, and her happiness was contagious.

Sakura's plan to forego her suppressants had seemed foolproof in her mind. She was certain that without the medication dulling her heat, your attention would naturally gravitate towards her. But as the day of her heat arrived, her anticipation turned to disappointment when she realized you were absent.

With each passing hour, Sakura's discomfort grew more pronounced. The familiar ache of her heat intensified, and she found herself writhing in pain, desperate for relief. She needed you desperately, but you were nowhere to be found.

In a haze of agony, Sakura stumbled to your room, her mind clouded with the need for your presence. She rummaged through your belongings, searching desperately for anything that might bring her solace. Finally, she found a circle of your used clothes and clutched the one you had worn most recently to her nose, seeking the faint trace of your scent.

As the familiar fragrance enveloped her, Sakura felt a momentary reprieve from the torment of her heat. Your scent, though distant, offered a semblance of comfort, easing the ache in her body and calming her racing heart.

In the solitude of your room, surrounded by reminders of your presence, Sakura found a fleeting sense of peace amidst the turmoil of her heat. But deep down, she longed for more than just the memory of you. She yearned for your touch, your warmth, and your soothing words to chase away the agony and loneliness that threatened to consume her.

However, that peace didn't last long as Sakura's heat intensified, and her body began to release a potent scent designed to attract any alpha nearby to satisfy her. The air grew thick with her pheromones, her scent a desperate call for relief.

Luckily for Sakura, there was an alpha currently in the manor, but this alpha happened to be none other than Kazuha. Kazuha was known for her calm and gentle demeanor, often mistaken for a beta due to her docility and non-aggressive nature. Despite her alpha status, she rarely displayed the dominant traits typically associated with it.

As Kazuha moved through the halls, the scent hit her with unexpected intensity. Her senses sharpened, and her normally placid nature was momentarily overridden by the primal urge to respond to the call of a distressed omega. Following the scent, she found herself drawn to your room, where Sakura lay surrounded by your clothes, her body wracked with the torment of her heat.

Kazuha entered the room cautiously, her eyes widening at the sight of Sakura. "Unnie," she called softly, her voice tinged with concern. "Are you okay?"

Sakura's head snapped up, her eyes glazed with desperation. "K-Kazuha," she whimpered, her voice breaking. "Please... I need help."

Kazuha hesitated for a moment, her usual calm exterior faltering as the scent overwhelmed her senses. She stepped closer, her instincts urging her to provide the relief Sakura so desperately needed.

"Unnie, I... I'm here to help," Kazuha said gently, kneeling beside her. "What do you need?"

Sakura's hands clutched at Kazuha's shirt, pulling her closer. "I need you," she pleaded, her voice barely more than a breathless whisper. "Please, Kazuha, I can't take it anymore."

Kazuha's heart pounded in her chest, the gravity of the situation sinking in. She knew she had to act, to provide the comfort and relief Sakura was so desperately seeking. Leaning in, she brushed a strand of hair away from Sakura's face, her touch tender and reassuring.

"Okay, Sakura," Kazuha whispered, her voice filled with determination. "I'll take care of you."

With gentle care, Kazuha wrapped her arms around Sakura, pulling her close. Her presence, though different from yours, offered a new kind of solace. The room filled with a mix of their scents, Kazuha's alpha pheromones blending with Sakura's desperate omega call, but this wasn’t enough for Sakura, she needed something more intense.

“Kazuha, it’s so hot down there please do something!” Sakura pleaded. Kazuha being the innocent alpha that she is didn’t know what to do but the overpowering pheromones were clouding Kazuha’s ability to think. 

“O-okay, unnie,” Kazuha said before gently pulling down Sakura's shorts to reveal a pair of completely drenched panties. It was a sight that Kazuha was shocked by but also desperately wanted a taste. 

“Fast, please it hurts,” Sakura whined, not wasting any more time, Kazuha dived into the the awaiting cave. The touch of her tongue caused a massive relief for Sakura. 

“Nghh, it feels so good,” Sakura moaned, as her fingers got tangled in Kazuha’s hair. The continuous ministrations of Kazuha were increasing the pleasure Sakura felt. 

Though it was the first time that Kazuha had ever been intimate with a woman, she was doing an amazing job, most probably because of strong Pheremones that were controlling her. Sakura tastes so sweet almost like a drug, addictive and Kazuha was enjoying every single second of this drug. 

“Keep going baby, you are eating Unnie so well.” Sakura moaned as her back arched signalling the impending orgasm. “F-fuckkkkk!” Sakura screamed as she came all over Kazuha’s face, being the good girl that she is Kazuha licked up every single drop. 

This was not enough to satisfy Sakura and to make the situation more interesting Kazuha had a hard-on. “Baby, please take off those pants and come fuck unnie,” Sakura said while staring into Kazuha’s eyes. 

Kazuha however was nervous and scared. It was not only because it was her first time but also because Kazuha was very insecure about her cock and didn’t want anyone to see it. 

Fear and anxiety were written all over Kazuha's face. She didn't want to get teased or judged for stepping into a role she rarely embraced, so she instinctively began to move away from Sakura. However, Sakura's desperation overshadowed any sense of decorum or restraint. Her mind was clouded with the overwhelming need to satiate the immense heat building up in her body.

As Kazuha tried to back away, her heart pounding in her chest, she found herself pressed against the wall, trapped by the intensity of the situation. Sakura, her eyes filled with a mix of pain and yearning, crawled toward Kazuha with a single-minded determination.

"K-Kazuha," Sakura's voice trembled, thick with need. "Please... I can't take it anymore."

Kazuha's breath hitched as Sakura closed the distance between them. Despite her fears, she couldn't ignore the primal pull of Sakura's distress. She hesitated, her body tense, but the sight of Sakura's pleading eyes and the raw desperation in her voice stirred something deep within her.

"Unnie, I..." Kazuha stammered, her voice faltering. She wanted to help, but the fear of what this moment represented held her back.

Sakura reached out, her fingers trembling as she touched Kazuha's arm. "Please, Kazuha. I need you," she whispered, her voice breaking.

“Unnie I will do anything but that, please,” Kazuha begged. But Sakura was not interested in listening. Sakura pulls down Kazuha’s pants along with her underwear to find Kazuha’s cock in all its glory.

Sakura was surprised. What she was currently faced with was different from what she was expecting. Kazuha was not packing a huge cock like she expected in fact it was probably one of the smallest that Sakura had ever seen, this also explains why Kazuha is such a docile alpha. But lucky for Kazuha, Sakura couldn’t care about the fact that her dick was only 4 inches because she desperately needed something inside of her and for now Kazuha’s cock should be enough. 

Without any words being said, Sakura pushes Kazuha onto the floor and mounts her. Shocked by the sudden action Kazuha lets out a small yelp, she still tries to get Sakura off her because she doesn’t know what to do but Sakura overpowers her and she got she wants. Sakura starts to ride Kazuha like there is no tomorrow and this makes Kazuha’s life very hard. She is holding on for dear life, trying her best not to cum inside Sakura and breed her. 

“Unnie, please get off!! I am going to cum!!” Kazuha screams, but it is to no avail as Sakura continues to bounce on Kazuha’s tiny cock. No matter how much strength Kazuha uses she is unable to push Sakura away from her before she cums. 

All of a sudden a savior appears. You manage to pull Sakura off Kazuha just before it’s too late. Sakura whines at the loss of body contact and pleasure but you hold her down and turn to Kazuha to notice that you may have just ruined her orgasm. 

Kazuha notices you staring and immediately covers herself with her hands. “Kazuha baby, you should leave before this wild one gets to you again,” Heeding your warning Kazuha grabs her clothes and runs out of the room. 

After the room is empty with just you and Sakura, you turn your attention to the girl who has begun to rub herself on your leg. But a stern look from you makes her stop all her movements. "Princess, how is it that you forgot to take your suppressants?" you question Sakura.

Too shy to tell you the actual reason, Sakura stays silent and hides herself behind your leg, her face flushing with embarrassment. You gently lift her chin, forcing her to meet your gaze. "Princess, don’t make this harder than it needs to be. I know how much pain you are going through and I will take away all that pain if you be honest with me here," you say, trying to convince her to answer.

Sakura's eyes flicker with uncertainty, her breath coming in short, quick gasps as she struggles with her confession. Finally, she mumbles, "Y-you."

"Princess, you have to be more clear," you say, with a touch of sternness in your voice to encourage her.

Sakura's face turns a deeper shade of red, and she averts her gaze, whispering, "I wanted your attention. I thought... if I didn't take my suppressants, you would spend more time with me."

Her confession hangs in the air, her vulnerability laid bare before you. Your stern expression softens as you take in her words, understanding the depth of her need for your affection.

"Oh, Sakura," you say, pulling her into a gentle embrace. "You don’t have to put yourself through such pain just to get my attention. I'm always here for you."

She clings to you, relief mingling with her lingering discomfort. "I'm sorry," she whispers, her voice muffled against your chest.

You stroke her hair soothingly. "It's okay, Princess. Let's focus on making you feel better now. But promise me, next time, you'll talk to me instead of putting yourself through this, alright?"

Sakura nods, her arms tightening around you. "I promise," she murmurs.

"Good girl," you say softly, kissing the top of her head. "Now, let's take care of you."

Sakura nods her head and hugs you tightly. You pat her head, playing with her hair but soon the wholesome moment comes to an end as Sakura starts to grind on you.

“Princess, look at me,” you say, gentleness in your voice. Sakura looks at you, her eyes filled with expectation and need. Both of you maintain eye contact for a few seconds, the air between you thick with anticipation. Slowly, you lean toward each other, and finally, your lips meet in a kiss filled with passion and care.

Sakura's lips are soft and warm against yours, and she melts into the kiss, her desperation and longing pouring into the embrace. The kiss deepens, your arms wrapping around her to pull her closer. Sakura's need to be closer to you becomes overwhelming, and she jumps onto you, wrapping her legs around your torso. You support her effortlessly, one hand on her back and the other cradling her head.

The intensity of the kiss grows as you hold her, each of you savoring the connection and the relief it brings. Sakura's fingers tangle in your hair, her body pressed tightly against yours. The heat of the moment seems to erase all the pain and anxiety she felt earlier, replaced by the comforting and exhilarating presence of you.

You move to sit on the edge of the bed, Sakura still clinging to you. The kiss breaks for a moment, both of you breathing heavily, foreheads resting against each other. "I've needed this," Sakura whispers, her voice filled with emotion. "I've needed you."

You gently stroke her hair, your eyes soft with affection. "I'm here, Princess. Always."

This time, the kiss is slower, more tender, as you take the time to explore each other's emotions through the connection. You can feel the gratitude and love radiating from Sakura, her body relaxing into yours as the last remnants of her heat begin to subside.

You hold her close, savoring the intimacy and the bond you share. The world outside seems to fade away, leaving just the two of you in a bubble of warmth and affection. The room is filled with the quiet sounds of your breathing and the soft rustle of clothing as you hold each other. 

After breaking the kiss, Sakura leans in and places soft kisses on your neck, her breath warm against your skin. Each kiss sends shivers down your spine, and you feel her growing boldness as those kisses slowly turn into gentle bites. You can sense her need to express her desire and the remnants of her heat driving her actions.

Wanting to keep your promise, you let her do whatever she wants. Your hands rest on her back, providing a comforting presence as she explores her feelings and desires through her actions.

"Sakura," you murmur, your voice soothing and filled with affection. "It's okay. I'm here for you."

Encouraged by your words, Sakura continues, her bites growing a bit more assertive, leaving small marks on your skin. Each bite is followed by a tender kiss, a mixture of passion and tenderness that reflects her complex emotions. You can feel her anxiety and need for reassurance in every touch, every kiss, and every bite.

As she nips at your neck, you hold her closer, your hands gently stroking her back to provide a sense of security. Her breaths come in short, quick gasps, her body pressed tightly against yours. You can feel her heart pounding, matching the rhythm of your own.

"Sakura," you whisper, lifting her chin so she looks into your eyes. "You don't have to hold back. Just be yourself."

Her eyes, filled with a mixture of desire and vulnerability, meet yours. She nods slightly, her lips parting as she takes a deep breath. "I need you," she confesses, her voice barely more than a whisper. "I need to feel close to you."

You smile gently, brushing a strand of hair away from her face. "I'm not going anywhere," you assure her. "You can have all of me."

Sakura's eyes soften with gratitude, and she leans in to kiss you again, this time with a tenderness that speaks volumes. The bites on your neck become more deliberate, a way for her to mark her territory and express her deep-seated need for connection.

You feel the intensity of her emotions and respond with equal tenderness, holding her close and allowing her to take what she needs from you. The room is filled with the quiet sounds of your breathing, the soft rustle of clothing, and the occasional sigh of contentment as you lose yourselves in the moment.

Slowly, you begin to take off what little clothes Sakura has left, your movements careful and tender. She helps you out of yours, her fingers trembling slightly with anticipation and excitement. As each piece of clothing falls away, the intimacy between you deepens, a silent communication of trust and affection.

With a gentle nudge, you both move toward the bed. The soft sheets feel cool against your skin, a stark contrast to the heat of your body. Pulling away from the kiss, you hear a small whine escape Sakura's lips, her eyes fluttering open with a mix of longing and frustration.

But before she can voice her complaint, you place her gently on the bed, and another deep, passionate kiss quickly muffles her whines. Your lips meld together, the urgency of the moment heightening the connection between you. Sakura's hands grip your shoulders, pulling you closer as if afraid you might disappear.

You respond by deepening the kiss, pouring all your affection and reassurance into the embrace. Your hands roam her body, tracing delicate patterns along her skin, eliciting soft gasps and shivers from Sakura. She arches into your touch, her body responding instinctively to every caress.

Breaking the kiss for a moment, you look into her eyes, your voice soft and filled with love. "Princess, you're everything to me."

Sakura's eyes shine with emotion, her hands cupping your face. "Daddy you can do anything you want," she whispers, her voice trembling with sincerity. "I just need you."

You place your hard member on her entrance teasing it a little before lubing it up with all the wetness from Sakura’s drenched pussy. “Daddy please don’t tease!” Sakura whined. 

Not wanting to keep her waiting longer, you slowly insert your cock into her tight pussy. Sakura occasionally let out moans as you pushed into her. Once you bottomed out you were still letting her adjust and also enjoying how tight her pussy was. 

“Daddy you can move now,” Sakura said. The missionary position lets you control your pace well and also hit spots that have never been touched. 

“Harder, Daddy, pleasee,” Sakura begged and you obliged increasing your pace and the strength of your thrusts. 

“Nghhh you are filling me up so well, Daddy,” Sakura moaned 

“Fuck, Princess, you are doing such a good job taking my dick. Your pussy is so tight and perfect.” You compliment Sakura causing her pussy to tighten a little. 

Increasing your pace, you ask “Who does this Pussy belong to princess?” 

Sakura was in a realm of her own, her mind completely filled with pleasure and unable to comprehend anything you were saying. So you stop 

“No no no, Daddy why did you stop!!” Sakura screams.

“Answer me, princess, Who thrusts Does thrusts This thrusts Pussy thrusts Belongs to thrusts?” You ask

“You! Daddy, this pussy belongs to only you!!!” Sakura screams as your thrusts get harsher. The tightness pushes you closer to the edge. 

“Princess, Daddy is going to cum soon and you are going to lick up every single drop of it right?” You asked as you continued to fuck the living crap out of Sakura. 

“Yes, Daddy. I will make sure not to waste a single drop of it.” Sakura replied. Her movements are in complete sync with yours. Both of you were chasing the peaks of your orgasm. 

“I’m cumming princess,” you announce and try to pull out of her pussy but are unable to do so because Sakura has managed to wrap her legs around you.

“Cum for me Daddy, breed me, let me have your children, please. I need them so fucking badly!!” Sakura screamed as her legs gripped tighter around your body.

Unable to hold on much longer you end up cumming inside of Sakura. “Fuck!!” You moan as you release all your cum deep inside of Sakura’s pussy.

“What the fuck Sakura, you are going to get pregnant!” you said. 

“Yes, Daddy, maybe then you will pay more attention to me than the other girls!” Sakura replied with a smirk on her face.

Not wanting to argue further, exhaustion took over both of you, and you soon fell into a deep sleep. The warmth of the moment and the emotional intensity had drained you completely.

Hours later, you were awakened by a sudden weight being placed on your chest. Blinking the sleep from your eyes, you looked down to see none other than Wonyoung sitting on you, her expression a mixture of curiosity and annoyance.

This was probably the worst situation in which you could get caught by Wonyoung, who was extremely possessive. The fact that your neck was covered with marks and Sakura was sleeping next to you was going to be the death of you. Wonyoung's eyes darted from the marks on your neck to Sakura, her jaw tightening with barely contained anger.

“What the hell is this?” Wonyoung’s voice was sharp, her tone dripping with jealousy and hurt.

You could feel the tension rising, and you knew you had to tread carefully. “Wonyoung, it’s not what it looks like,” you began, trying to sound as calm as possible.

“Really?” she said, her tone icy. “Because it looks like you and Sakura had a lot of fun without me.”

Sakura stirred next to you, her eyes fluttering open. She immediately sensed the tension in the room and sat up, her smirk from earlier fading as she took in Wonyoung’s furious expression.

“Wonyoung, it’s not like that,” Sakura said softly, trying to defuse the situation. “I just... I needed Daddy last night. It was a tough day.”

Wonyoung’s eyes narrowed, her possessive streak flaring up. “And you think you’re the only one who needs him? We all need him, Sakura. You can’t just monopolize him like this.”

You reached out to gently touch Wonyoung’s arm, hoping to calm her down. “Wonyoung, please. Let’s talk about this calmly.”

She pulled her arm away, standing up and crossing her arms over her chest. “Calmly? How am I supposed to be calm when you’re covered in her marks?”

Sakura looked genuinely remorseful, and you could see that she regretted the way things had escalated. “Wonyoung, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you feel left out.”

Wonyoung’s eyes softened slightly at Sakura’s apology, but she was still visibly upset. “It’s going to take a lot more than just a verbal apology from the both of you,” she said, a smirk plastered all over her face. This spelled nothing good for the future, but you had no choice but to listen because this brat doesn’t take no for an answer and is also way too cute for you to say no to.

You sighed inwardly, knowing that Wonyoung had the upper hand. “What do you want, Wonyoung?” you asked, trying to keep your tone calm and collected.

Wonyoung's smirk widened, her eyes gleaming with mischief. “Oh, I have a few ideas,” she replied, her voice sweet but with an edge of playful menace. “But first, I want both of you to admit that you were wrong and that you’ll make it up to me.”

Sakura shifted beside you, looking a bit nervous but also curious. “Alright, Wonyoung,” she said, her voice soft but sincere. “I’m sorry for making you feel left out. I promise to make it up to you.”

You nodded in agreement, meeting Wonyoung’s gaze. “I’m sorry too, Wonyoung. I didn’t mean to hurt you. We’ll both make it up to you, I promise.”

Wonyoung’s smirk turned into a genuine smile, though a hint of mischief still lingered in her eyes. “Good. Now, let’s start with something simple. I want you both to pamper me today. I get to be the center of attention, and you two will do whatever I say. Deal?”

Sakura and you exchanged a glance, both of you knowing that you had little choice in the matter. “Deal,” you said in unison.

Wonyoung clapped her hands together, her mood brightening. “Great! First, I want a nice breakfast in bed. And then, we’ll see what else I can come up with,” she said, her tone almost teasing.

You couldn’t help but smile at her enthusiasm, even though you knew she was taking full advantage of the situation. “Alright, breakfast in bed it is,” you said, getting up and pulling on some clothes.

Sakura followed suit, giving Wonyoung a small, playful glare. “You’re really enjoying this, aren’t you?”

Wonyoung giggled, the sound light and infectious. “Maybe a little,” she admitted. “But it’s only fair, right?”

You couldn’t argue with that, and as you made your way to the kitchen to start preparing breakfast, you felt a sense of relief that the immediate tension had been diffused. Wonyoung might be a handful, but her playful nature and the bond you all shared made every challenge worth it.

As the day went on, you and Sakura did your best to pamper Wonyoung, catering to her whims and making her feel special. There were plenty of playful moments and laughter, and by the end of the day, it felt like the balance had been restored among the three of you.

Wonyoung lay on the couch, a contented smile on her face as she looked at you and Sakura. “See? This wasn’t so bad, was it?”

“Not at all, I was expecting a lot more work.” You replied.

“Because the worst part is yet to come. The both of you are going spend the entire night with me.” Wonyoung said as she took off her skirt. 

To be continued… 

[little-diable]

Getaway - Tyler Owens (smut)

It's been so long since I've last written for him, but I hope y'all still love him as much as I do. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed read this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: The reader and Tyler take a few days off after a busy season to get lost in one another.

Warnings: 18+, smut, unprotected piv, bathtub action, very sweet, begging, some dom!Tyler

Pairing: Tyler Owens x fem!reader (1.4k words)

With her eyes closed, (y/n) let go of a deep exhale, trying to ground herself. The warm bathtub water engulfed her, cozying her along while she could hear Tyler finally finding his way to her. 

They had arrived at the cabin hours ago, hiding away in the middle of the forest with no reception - a perfect getaway after another busy chasing season. She was aching for his closeness, needing Tyler to focus on her solemnly. A strange need was burning deep inside of her, as if he hadn’t been hers for years on end, sticking to her side through every trouble coming their way, a need so intense (y/n) feared she would drown in her own longings as Leander had drowned because of his longing for Hero. 

Ancient lovers finding back together every single lifetime, reborn for the simple purpose of loving one another. 

Tyler stepped into the room, hands already working on his shirt to expose his body to her with every further layer dropping to the floor. She tried not to stare, eyes flickering between him and her hand lazily moving through the water, but the second she heard his belt drop to the floor, she had to look at her husband again. 

It had been years since their paths had crossed first, but yet (y/n) was still as mesmerised by him as on day one. She marvelled at him at every single chance, like a ship lost at sea staring at a guiding lighthouse, scared she’d lose her path like Odysseus with a cry for help so loud she could wake the gods from their eternal slumber. 

“Hold on, baby.” Tyler gently gave her a push, settling behind her before pulling (y/n) against his chest. She could feel his need for her, pressing against her back while he buried his face in the crook of her neck. His breath stroked her warm skin, drawing a soft moan from her, pushing herself further against him to wordlessly communicate what she wanted from him. 

“I’ve been looking forward to this for weeks.” His quiet confession made her chuckle, hands finding his to interlock their fingers. She guided his hands up her chest, letting them rest on her breasts for a second before she let go. Tyler instantly followed her wordless call, cupping her breasts to toy with her hardening buds, making her arch her back in relief. “Oh, little one, have I been neglecting you?”

“Tyler,” she swallowed the call of his name, eyes squeezed shut to try and ground herself. Every touch felt like lightning buzzing through her system, burning her skin as if he was mapping out a new path, leaving behind marks that would be able to lead him back to her in the depths of the night. He’d overcome every obstacle for her, for her mere closeness, the sweetest sounds that made him feel as if he had explored a new genre of music. “Don’t tease me.” 

“Tsk,” he clicked his tongue, telling her to be patient as he kept kneading her soft flesh. His cock twitched against her back, just as impatient as he was, but he couldn’t give in just yet, and didn’t want to let the water spill over the rim of the tub before he touched her most sensitive spot. “You’re so impatient, how will you ever survive without me near to fuck you whenever you need me to?” 

She wanted to protest, really did, but her mouth was too dry, words stolen right from the tip of her tongue. Finally, his fingers found her heat, brushing through her slit to feel her arousal dripping from her tightness. An insatiable need was connecting the two, a need so strong not even the ancient poets could have found the right words to describe this sensation. 

Tyler took his time, relishing in her sounds, in the way she pressed her back against his cock, in the feeling of her fingernails scratching at his forearms to leave marks that would remind him of this very moment for hours to come. Hours he would spend between her thighs, hovering above her with his cock buried deep inside of her to murmur sweet nothings into her ears. 

Calloused fingertips lazily circled her pulsing bundle, using just enough pressure to make (y/n) curl her toes. It wouldn’t take much for her to fall over the edge, to empty her lungs of any air she’d need to survive, but for him she’d give it all up, turning to him like Orpheus had turned to Eurydice. 

“Talk to me, what do you need, baby?” He was toying with her, using her for his own pleasure, enjoying the power he held over her now speechless, trembling frame. (Y/n) shuffled herself closer, needing to feel whatever he could offer her, every single touch like an x marked on a treasure map. 

“Tyler,” she sobbed his name, struggling to put into words how much she needed to feel him deep inside of her. 

“C’mon, I know you can do it, use your words.” A smirk was glued to his lips, not moving as (y/n) felt her orgasm creeping closer and closer - a sensation he’d stop any second now. 

“Your cock, need you inside of me, please, Ty’.” The hum he let go of felt like an absolution - as if the gods were finally favouring her. He let go of her, only to turn (y/n) around in his grasp, supporting her with strong hands. She sank down on him within a handful of moments, whimpering at the feeling of being stuffed full by him. 

For a second, neither of them moved, foreheads pressed together, hearts racing in sync. Only as he tightened his grip on her hips did she dare to move, trying to ignore the mess they were making with the water spilling everywhere. She fucked herself on his cock, impaled on his twitching length as if she had been born for this moment only. 

Inaudible words rolled off her tongue, praises Tyler couldn’t pick up on as he was too focused on his own pleasure. Being buried inside of (y/n) was undoubtedly one of his favourite things, high on the feeling of them perfectly fitting together, bodies understanding what the other was desperate for without needing to use any words to break their silence. 

Her hands found the rim of the tub, knuckles growing a few shades lighter from the tight grip she had on the cold material. She wrote her name on top of him, spurred on by the breathless groans Tyler couldn’t hold back, by the feeling of bruises already forming on her hips. 

Tyler’s head rolled back, eyes focused on her features, on the lust-blown pupils staring at him. Her teeth were close to drawing blood from her lower lip, trying to stop herself from letting go all too early, something he didn’t seem to care about as he began to meet her thrusts. 

“Beg for it, little one, let me hear how much you need to cum.” His raspy voice made goosebumps rise on her skin, littering her body like sea foam rolling ashore. A few breaths were sucked into her lungs, fighting through the hazy fog he had pushed her in to, getting lost at sea without anything but the grasp she still had on him like a distant memory keeping her alive.

“Need it so badly, fuck, Ty’, please. Let me cum, please, please, please.” A satisfied moan left him, giving her the push to let go, to allow her orgasm to drown her in its strong grasp. He jerked his hips a few times before he came deep inside of her, imprinting himself on her walls as if he needed to claim her in the most primal way possible. 

“Fuck, I love you.” He mumbled the words against her lips, pressing a few soft kisses against them before she sank into his chest, repeating the words with a satisfied hum.

[arsonlookers]

✧ MS. THERAPIST Yandere Childe! Idea ✧

Case No. 1 : Yan! Childe x Therapist Darling

slight suggestive please be warned.

Yandere Childe! who becomes obsessed in love with you because you are his therapist.

Yandere Childe! got sentenced to jail for the same actions of being a total creep and a yandere. sentenced for murder, stalking, attempting kidnapping, assault, stealing, and many more gruesome acts he did.

Yandere Childe! who was very stubborn and murderous after going to jail. yelling that he needs to protect Lumine [the victim of his Yandere acts] and lumine not even planning to time visiting him in jail [i mean who would?]

Yandere Childe! who stops eating and taking care of himself being dishearten by not seeing lumine for the past month and starts starving since then. losing the reasoning to keep living.

Yandere Childe! who meets reader [you] in his 2nd week of staying becomes his personal therapist since then.

Yandere Childe! tried to kill you because he dont want to see anybody except lumine.

Yandere Childe! Who nearly did murder you if not for your fast instinct and taekwondo training you got as a child, and knock him off the ground he was not able to get back up again.

Yandere Childe! becomes more interested in you after that incident keeps apologizing about what happened before and keeps asking you to fight him. To strangle him with your thigh again.

Yandere Childe! who keeps dreaming about the incident and just wants to be in that position again. in between your plush thigh. starts to be more and more interested in your life for some reason

Yandere Childe! who keeps checking you out every time you are there or its therapy session.

Yandere Childe! Who keeps asking you if you have a boyfriend or husband, if you do what they look like, what are their names, The more he is around you the more his questions become personal and creepy.

Yandere Childe! who for some reason starts to become healthy again, and starts to work out inside his jail. starts to show off his hard work abs and all, for some reason starts to become more and more touchy and just keeps asking you to be inside in a room again promising to not hurt you ever again.

Yandere Childe! who now shamelessly dirty talks to you and keeps talking about everything like I mean every thing in his life and how he was obsessed and why he did all of it.

Yandere Childe! who opens up everything where he hides the bodies how he disposes of them, his past trauma, how he got kidnapped, how he stalks and keeps a altar for lumine, E.V.E.R.Y.T.H.I.N.G.

suggestive warning ahead!!!

Yandere Childe! who shamelessly starts thinking about you in sensual ways, like how he likes to feel your mouth and all around his body. and absolutely in his mouth.

yandere Childe! shamelessly masturbates in front of you or in his cell. like "ahhh~ uggg~ I ~ keep talking!- AHhhh~~mmmm~ your so cute~~ " behind his cell, he is doing all those unholy things

Yandere Childe! keeps asking you to either strip, about your underwear, join him, shamelessly dirty talks while he is pumping his member keeps his eyes on your body and never looks anywhere. just in you and in your eyes, he just keeps talking about "I want to fck you~ mminside that hole~ AHHHhhhh~mmmm~ look at me darling~ look at how you made me feel~ you are making me feel so~ so~ goooood~~ my cute~ sexy! therapist~~ "

Yandere Childe! Who knows that You can't just leave him and ask other therapists to be his doctor because he tells you how he will kill them even behind these bars. if he knows that you actually wanted to leave him [ oh honey he will kill even if it meant to also be the reason of his death]

Yandere Childe! begging for you to just stay with him, "I will be your good boy~ pleaseee~ agggh ~ ummpphh~ " while keeping his hands on his member

Yandere Childe! If you will truly leave him he will find ways to break out of these prison cells. and will search for you even if it means to go travel around the world to search for you.

Yandere Childe! who is rich by the way like he truly has the money. and actually bribes some of the guards in the prison without you knowing. just to keep an eye on you of course .

Yandere Childe! Who actually starts to call you pet names shamelessly like "darling" "baby" "slut" "savior" and many more all these other pet names of his are getting worst by the day.

Yandere Childe! who enjoys how you also slowly start to enjoy his company even if some of it is just absurb and questionable. He also enjoys how he somehow did get you to talk about your past a little bit.

Yandere Childe! who is in prison but actually got some information about you from the outside. he will not tell you that of course.

Yandere Childe! who now found an interesting and lovely woman to obsessed with, to love, to keep him forever and ever may she like it or not. Yandere Childe! who promises you that you will be stuck with him forever. Yandere Childe! who now found another will to live this life of his, found his true purpose, he who accepts that everything that is happening now is FATE that you two are FATED to be together.

Yandere Childe! who behind the cells can still do anything to his power to have you, to control you, to make you stay, to make you love him, your oh so LOVELY PATIENT.

"ms. therapist ~ I need your assistance!~ I feel so lonely would you care to join hmm~ to help me feel better~ help this lonely patient of yours~"

Yandere Childe! will love you forever .,.and actually has a shrine for you outside this prison in his house so yeahhh. hahahaha.

YANDERE CHILDE! who is MADLY in love with you .

so please take care of this sick patient of yours ok? ms. therapist~

✧ahhhh!! my first Yandere writing I never imagined I would write it I'm not really that confident about this one I'm trying something new other than angst so yeahh thank u for reading just a random idea really if there are any grammar mistakes sorry about it. it might be quite messy but I just want to share and had this idea of being his therapist and will be forever stuck being his therapist for life. hehe anyways bye~ - ars onlookers

"ART IS NOT MINE" -from pinterest

♡♡Reblogs and likes are much appreciated!!♡♡

[measuredingold]

Adopting a puppy with Noah. Please. I need it.

A giggly Noah sinking to the floor with the sweetest thing in his arms, all excited, tail wagging, licking his chin.

And you just like that, you’re in love. “This is the one.”

An Australian Shepherd I beg 😩‼️‼️

He goes on tour the next week, and you’d been wanting a dog, so the two of you figure what better time than now when you’ll have her to keep you company. You’re also secretly going to take this time to become her favorite because fuck if it’s Noah. (It doesn’t matter. She’s probably smitten anyway.)

Bonus: Telling the dog to [insert command] and Noah immediately obeys.

“Not you. The dog. But good boy,” you laugh, giving him a kiss.

Do with this what you will 😘 <3

- @somebodyels3

authors note: i think i got carried away with this request… 😅 definitely indulged in the domestic of it all 🥹 anyways, i hope this was somewhat of what you wanted ! i couldn't come up with a title without it being corny, so i apologize lol

pairing: noah sebastian x reader

word count: 4.2k

cw/tw: fluff fluff fluff, established relationship, seriously just reader and noah being cute, 18+ minors do not interact

"Oh my god," The happiness that radiates from Noah's voice has your chest twisting. "He's so fucking cute."

He sinks to the floor as the dog continues to jump on him, tail wagging happily through the air. Jax, the Australian Shepard that immediately caught your eye, barely waits for Noah to even sit on the floor, jumping into his arms happily. You can't help but smile widely at the interaction, chest twisting again as Jax licked happily at Noah's face while your boyfriend cooed at him, probably whispering soft praises to the overly excited puppy.

You'd been debating on getting a dog together for some time. Wanting to take that next step in your relationship and also Noah being adamant on you not being alone when he was away, you thought now was the perfect time. It'd been a few weeks searching, your boyfriend being persistent on finding the perfect dog for you - and him - and as you watch Jax happily settle into Noah's lap, your boyfriend beaming up at you, you realize that this is definitely the one.

"He likes you." You muse as you finally move closer, settling on the floor beside the two. Jax's tail starts up again, wagging happily. He wiggles his way out of Noah's grip to climb into your lap now, surprising you with a kiss.

"I think he likes you, too." Noah's voice is soft and you manage a glance at him while trying to wrangle the very happy pup in your arms, the look of adoration on his face has your breath hitching. He reaches out to scratch behind Jax's ear. "We should get him."

"You've barely known him for 5 minutes." You snort but your gaze lands on Jax nuzzling against your chest and your heart squeezes, already knowing if you left here without him you'd be devastated. 

"And? That's enough time."

You roll your eyes. "Seriously?"

"Yeah?" Noah scoots closer to you, continuing to scratch behind Jax's ear. He leans his chin against your shoulder, humming softly. "I knew I liked you 5 seconds after we met, so this is nothing." 

Your face flushes. "You did not."

"Yes I did."

"Okay, so then why did you wait a whole year to even tell me you liked me if you knew it instantly?" It's his turn to blush, ignoring your teasing words as he continues to pet Jax. “Exactly.”

You were just kidding but every once in a while you always liked to bring it up just to mess with him.

"Anyways," He pivots, looking away from Jax to finally look at you. "We should adopt him."

You meet his gaze, your heart leaping its way into your throat. "...Yeah?"

"Yeah." A small, gentle smile settles on his lips. "We should. I think he'll fit right in with us. Won’t you, bud?”

Us. 

The world makes your entire body heat up and your stomach flip. You immediately know he's right, your gut telling you that this sweet little pup in your arms is going to be the perfect fit for the two of you as he leans into Noah’s touch, and a great companion for you whenever your boy is gone. You look down at Jax, who's already looking up at you, tail wagging once again. 

"I think so, too." You say, scratching at Jax's side. "What do you say, bud? Wanna come home with us?"

As if Jax understood every word you had said, he leaps from your lap with another happy wag of his tail. He barks at you and then at Noah, and you swear you think he's smiling. Noah reaches out for Jax and the pup happily follows, settling back into his arms as if he's done it a million times before. 

"Welcome to the family, Jax." 

Your boyfriend's words make your chest flutter, heat washing over your face. It's your turn to reach over and scratch behind Jax's ear, mumbling out Noah's exact words.

"Welcome to the family."

...

One week. That's all the time you and Noah had to get to Jax accustomed to your house with all three of you inside it. The first two days were used for him to get familiar with his surroundings, showing him the different rooms. You let him sniff around as much as he wanted, wanting every inch of this space to be safe for him as it is for you two. Between that and just letting him get used to you, you also used this time to practice good habits.

Using the bathroom outside was fairly easy, to both yours and Noah's surprise. You were grateful that the adoption center you chose had already been practicing that with Jax, having a nice wide outside area for the dogs to roam freely. 

You've been struggling to establish feeding times, Jax being used to eating whenever he wanted throughout the day. You have designated eating times in the morning and night, and had to incorporate some snack times throughout the day to satisfy his whining. Eventually you know it'll get easier, and to be fair, he is a puppy. That boy is still growing, and growing boys need to eat.

You decided against crate training after night one. Hearing him whine throughout the night broke your heart, but it was Noah who said he didn't mind him out of the crate.

"He'll be the one cuddling you when I'm not here, anyways. Might as well get him used to the bed." 

You decide to buy a dog bed for your bedroom and he didn’t seem to mind it at first, but eventually got up in the bed with you two. He wedged himself perfectly between you and Noah as if he belonged. Even through your sleepy haze, your chest still tightened at how right it felt. 

So far, you think Jax is loving it. He fit right in with both you and Noah, meshing easily to both of your schedules. 

When Noah was locked away in his studio or making sure things were set to go for tour next week, Jax was with you, whether it be playing together or sleeping by your feet as you worked on the computer. Day three he hadn't been with you at all, glued to Noah's side the entire time. Your heart grew three times in size when you had gone looking for the pup, only to find him tucked away in Noah's lap while your boyfriend messed around on the computer, more than likely tweaking with a track.

"I can't believe we got a dog right before I leave." Noah comments on his last night home, tucking a very sleepy Jax against his chest. You'd just gotten back from a walk and the poor thing was tired, all his energy gone. 

"This was your idea, bub." You tease, but can't ignore the slight pang in your chest at the reminder of him leaving. "I'm just happy I'll have someone to keep me company."

Noah gives a sad smile, but doesn't comment on it again. He knows how you feel whenever he leaves, so incredibly proud of him but can't help being a bit heartbroken that you won't see your boy for weeks. He's the exact same way. Happy to be able to live out the life he dreamed of, doing what he loves for people just like him, but he can't help but wish that you could be with him every step of the way. 

He knows it isn't feasible right now, but is determined to make it a reality one day. Where he can support you - and now Jax - and bring you along for the ride.

That night, Jax sleeps at the foot of your shared bed, having no idea that one of his new owners will be gone for a month and a half in just a few short hours. Noah's attached to your side, face buried in the crook of your neck. His hair tickles your cheek, smelling freshly washed, and you can even smell a hint of vanilla. He had insisted on using your body wash tonight after he had convinced you to shower with him, the only alone time you've had in a week, and will have for the foreseeable future. 

You still felt his touch, his fingertips etched into your skin as he dug them into your hips, pulling you closer and closer until there was no room left. He took his time with you, mumbling against your skin that he wanted to savor these last few quiet moments together. He slowly broke you apart with just his fingers, and then his mouth, before pressing your back against the shower wall and sliding one of your legs up and around his hip, pressing into you slowly.

Your face burned at the memory, only being minutes ago, and you couldn't stop the shiver that ran through your body when you felt Noah's lips brush against the base of your neck.

"Gonna miss you." He mumbles out, sleep evident in his voice.

"Gonna miss you, too." You whisper back. 

Jax makes a noise at the foot of the bed, stretching out his little legs before settling back against the covers. Noah huffs out a laugh.

"I'll miss him, too. Never knew I could get attached to something so quick."

"Honey," It's your turn to laugh, Jax wiggling around at the sound. "You get attached to every animal we encounter. You suggested we get him after only seeing him for not even five minutes."

"...Okay, whatever. I knew I would and it sucks. I wish I could bring you both along."

"I know." You say softly, fingers carding through his hair. "Maybe when he's bigger. I think bringing a puppy on tour would be a nightmare."

"It would but I wouldn't care." You don't respond, instead let Noah think on his words before he eventually says, "Okay, maybe I'd care a little bit. Thinking of him having an accident in a random green room makes me kind of anxious."

"Exactly." You laugh again, much softer, and turn your head to brush your lips across his forehead. "So, let's wait for when he gets bigger, then maybe I could use some PTO and we both could tag along for a few weeks."

Noah's arms tighten around your waist to bring you closer to him, his legs tangling between yours like a vice grip. "Okay. I'd really like that."

You let the silence take over, your eyes fluttering shut as you focused on Noah's steady breathing. You never stopped your hand moving through his hair, occasionally scratching at his scalp. It isn't until you're on the brink of sleep when he speaks up again, exhaustion clear in his voice.

"Love you."

Jax sighs out at the foot of the bed, snuggling deeper into the covers, and your chest tightens again. You're going to miss this already and it's only been a week.

"Love you, too, my Noah."

...

A month and a half goes by quicker than you thought it would. Normally it feels like the days drag on when Noah's away, the boredom catching up to you on Day 2, but having Jax has made it to where the days don't feel as long, and the loneliness doesn't creep up on you as often.

It's not to say that it doesn't, because there were still days where you yearned just to see Noah, to be able to find him lying on the couch and to crawl up against his chest. You called every night, hour long FaceTime calls until your boy fell asleep to the sound of your voice. It'll never be easier being away from him, but you think Jax was just the thing you needed.

Before Noah had left, you were sure that your boyfriend was the favorite. Jax always tagged along with you whenever you worked, but if Noah was available he was glued to him. It warmed your heart, truly, but you were determined with this time away to make him like you just a bit more. He was going to be with you most of the time, anyways.

He's practically mastered the art of doing his business outside, even to the point where he can tell you when he has to go. He'd roam around the house to find you and when he did, he'd stare up at you with those big eyes and paw at your leg. If you were downstairs with him he'd just stand by the door, giving you a look that let you know what he needed.

Eating times were still rough, but you think you've gotten it down. Breakfast as soon as you wake up, a snack or two during the afternoon depending on how well those puppy dog eyes got you, and then dinner time is always around six o'clock. It seemed to work out fairly well, but there were some afternoons when he'd go over his afternoon snack amount. All in all, you've gotten a steady routine down with Jax, and you couldn't wait to integrate Noah back into it. 

You'd even been able to teach him some tricks on days when boredom got the best of you, and you wanted to be able to show Noah something cool whenever he got home. So far you've only been able to get him to sit on command and you felt nothing but pride every time he did. He'll get the other ones down in no time, and you're sure with the help of Noah he'll get them right away. 

Speaking of your boyfriend, you think Jax is still a bit confused that his other human has been missing.

Your heart squeezed beneath your chest when you'd find him curled up on the couch in Noah's studio, sound asleep. Even in that short amount of time, your pup had not only fallen in love with you but also with Noah, and you both were more than ready to have your boy back home with you.

...

With the way Jax was staring at the door, tail slowly beginning to wag, it was as if he knew Noah was seconds away from home. Usually you'd be the one to pick Noah up from the airport but it was his idea that this time one of the guys drop him off, anxious about how well Jax would do in the car and around a group of people. 

As if on queue, you hear keys jingle. Both you and Jax perk up, you straightening your seated position on the couch and Jax moving closer to the door, excited barks escaping him. You can't help the way your heart squeezes beneath your chest and your stomach flutters with butterflies, a smile breaking across your face when Noah finally opens the door.

"Hey buddy!" He says excitedly as Jax all but runs towards him, immediately jumping on his legs. He barely has enough time to set his things down before crouching in front of the excited puppy, pulling him into his arms. "I can't believe you remember me."

"Of course he remembers you." You tease, heart thudding against your chest when Noah finally looks in your direction, eyes twinkling as his gaze finally land on you. "He slept glued to your side for a week straight. He's missed you."

Noah hugs Jax to him, letting out breathy chuckles as the excited pup licks across his face, wiggling in his arms. "I missed you too, bud."

Your boyfriend sinks into the floor, door still half open and his bags surrounding him. He doesn't pay any mind, instead returning the kisses Jax gave him, chuckling every so often. You reach for your phone, the tender moment making your eyes burn with happy tears and you can't help but snap a picture of this moment, immediately setting it as your background.

Your boys. 

Your heart clenches at the thought as you toss your phone back onto the couch and stand up, making your way over to Noah. He looks up when you sink down onto the floor next to him, the softness behind his eyes returning and a gentle smile settling on his lips.

"Hi baby." 

"Hi." You return his smile, face flushing under his gaze. "If it means anything, I also missed you." 

His smile only widens, eyes twinkling again. "I missed you, too." 

It takes another moment of excitement before Jax wiggles his way out of Noah's arms, scurrying off into the living room to probably find one of the new toys you had gotten him in the last month and a half. He loves showing them off to you everyday, and to anyone who stops by. Your friends had been shown his nice new red ball about a dozen times during their visit, and he acted as if it was brand new each time.

"Not as much as Jax though, huh?" 

Noah rolls his eyes before lifting himself to his feet, hand reaching down to bring you up with him. "I missed you both all the same."

Your body practically vibrates the second your hand touches his, letting him haul you up from the floor and immediately into his arms. You don't say anything, just bury your face against his chest and slip your arms around his middle. You inhale deeply, the scent of your boyfriend engulfing you instantly and you only squeeze him tighter.

You missed him so much.

"I missed you so much, too." You hadn't meant to say that out loud but didn't care, especially because Noah only squeezes you tighter, his lips brushing the side of your head. "Next time, please come with me. It was fucking unbearable."

You pull back, brows furrowing. "I thought everything went fine?"

"Oh, it did. Much better than I expected, but it still sucked not having you there when things got even the slightest bit fucked." His voice is much softer, muffled by your hair. "Need you with me always and to tell when to fucking relax. Would've made the stressful moments easier to get through."

Your heart practically bursts out of your chest at his words. You don't know what to say, honestly can't say anything with the way your throat is already closing up and eyes are burning again. You pull back more but only to unwind your arms from around his waist, reaching up. It seems like he already knew your intentions, already leaning down for you to cup his cheeks and bring his face closer. 

Your lips meet in a gentle kiss and Noah hums out a soft noise, hands sliding down your sides to your hips. His fingers flex, digging into you gently to bring you closer. Before it could go anywhere, a bark pulls you two away from each other, and you both turn your head to find Jax staring, happily wagging his tail with his new red ball sitting in front of him.

"Oh, I think he wants to show you his new toy."

"God, he's fucking cute." Noah mumbles out, a breathy chuckle following. He turns his head to press a chaste kiss to your cheek before finding your lips again, planting a quick kiss there before pulling away from you entirely. "Let me put my stuff up, bud, and you can show me your new toy." 

As if Jax understood, he barks again, the wagging only getting faster. Noah shuts the door completely, finally, and the two of you carefully move his things away from the door and towards the stairs for the unpacking that'll happen later. Minutes later, Noah's back over by Jax, reaching down for his red ball and tossing it across the room gently. 

You laugh at the way Jax rushes for it, tiny arms and legs working to get his toy and bring it back to Noah.

"He loves that damn ball." You muse, giggling softly at the excited puppy running back towards Noah, dropping the ball by his feet.

"I knew he would." Noah grins as he reaches down for the ball and tosses it again, Jax running at full speed to retrieve it.

An idea pops into your head as Jax runs back towards Noah, forgetting that you hadn't told your boyfriend about the recent trick Jax had learned. You shift on the couch, bringing your legs up under you as you settle back against the cushions. 

"Oh, baby, look." You snap your fingers, watching Jax turn his head towards you. Unbeknownst to you, Noah does the same, but your focus is solely on the puppy. "Sit."

Jax does almost instantly, dropping the ball from his mouth and happily sitting down in front of Noah. You smile triumphantly and fix your gaze on your boyfriend, but he isn't in front of Jax anymore. He's making his way towards the couch, plopping down next to you, brows furrowed.

"Look at what?"

You give him an amused grin, looking between him and Jax. It takes him a moment but you see the moment his brain catches up, looking over at Jax who's still sitting, tail wagging happily against the floor.

"Oh."

"Wasn't meant for you, baby, just the dog." You reach over, ruffling his hair playfully and lean in for a quick kiss to his cheek. "But good boy,"

You pull back to find him flushing, cheeks darker than before, and his eyes fitted into a playful glare. You laugh before leaning back in, this time placing a swift kiss to his lips. 

You get up from the couch, using your best baby voice to get Jax to follow you into the kitchen for his well deserved treat. You come back into the living room to find Noah still on the couch with his head thrown back against the couch, cheeks still flushed and eyes shut.

Your chest did that funny thing again, heart squeezing beneath at the sight of your boy finally home. You glance over at the very many bags placed carefully at the end of your stairs and then look back at Noah who may or may not be fast asleep, and decide unpacking will have to wait until later. Or tomorrow. Your perfectionist boyfriend will just have to deal with it.

"Baby?" Noah makes a noise, opening an eye to stare over at you. "Tired?"

He nods, groaning quietly as he sits himself up, rubbing a hand down his face. "Forgot I've been traveling all day. It hit me the second I sat down," He stretches his arms out and groans again before settling back against the cushions, giving you a sleepy smile. "Forgot how comfy this couch is." 

"Mhm. The dope couch is extremely comfy." You walk towards him but don't sit down, instead reach a hand out. "But I know our bed is way more comfortable than this. C'mon, bub." 

He reaches for you no questions asked, letting himself be hauled off the couch with another quiet noise. "Should unpack first, though-"

"Nope. That's a tomorrow us problem." You don't miss the small smile Noah makes at the word us, tugging him towards the stair. "Right now, you need a nap, and coincidentally this is around the time Jax takes a nap in your studio. I think he'd much rather prefer to cuddle with you. I would, too."

You call for the pup who trots out of the kitchen before pausing, stretching out his tiny legs and giving the cutest yawn you'd ever seen. 

"Nap time?" His head tilts in an almost comedic way, tail slowly beginning to wag as he trots closer to you. "C'mere." 

He does so happily and you pull him up into your arms, turning around to face a very sleepy, but very happy looking Noah. 

"I should really unpack first, baby."

You shake your head. "Nuh uh. Tomorrow problem. Right now, we're gonna nap. And then we’re gonna order dinner and sit on the couch the rest of the night. Right, buddy?" You look at Jax who's nestled against your chest, turning to puppy towards Noah, feigning a pout. "You're seriously gonna say no to this face?"

"You're unbelievable." He rolls his eyes half-heartedly, but that sleepy smile settling on his lips is telling you that you definitely won this round. "Fine. Tomorrows problem."

You let out a triumphant noise, raising Jax's paw and giving yourself a high-five that makes Noah laugh. Warmth spreads throughout your body at the sound, having missed it so much in the last month and a half. You follow Noah up the stairs and to your bedroom with Jax in your arms, excited anticipation running through you at the thought of finally cuddling your boy after so long. You couldn't wait.

Noah sprawls out onto the bed with another groan and you gently drop Jax down next to him, watching as the puppy immediately jumps onto his chest. He licks his face a few times before settling down on top of him, getting comfortable. 

You coo out softly and you crawl into the space next to your boyfriend, "God, that's the cutest fucking thing I've ever seen." 

Noah wraps an arm around him to keep him steady against his chest, holding out his other arm for you to curl into. You do so happily, body fitting perfectly into his side. You can feel the tension in both of your bodies finally relax, immediately melting into one another, and your heart skips a beat at how perfect this feels right now.

Things finally make sense again, and you've never been happier to finally have both of your boys with you. 

...

if you'd like to join the taglist, the form is right here !

taglist: @xmads-omensx @chey-h @somebodyels3 @ferduttini @Follow-me-down-to-wonderland @fadingangelwisp @baddestomens @alwaysfightforwhoyouare @concretejunglefm @deathblacksmoke @ladyveronikawrites @kenjipepsi1 @swissy23 @collapsedglasshouses

[theemporium]

please im begging... thigh riding mat barzal smut.... please

thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

.

“Shit, baby, I gotta leave soon.”

“No, you don’t,” you mumbled defiantly, your fingers curled in his hair to tug his head back as your lips trace over his pulse point. “You have ages.” 

“I still need to get ready,” Mat murmured, but it was half-hearted at best. His hands were gripping your hips, his body sinking back into the couch as you continued to kiss along his neck. “The boys are gonna give me shit if I’m late again—”

“Tragic,” you retorted, though he could feel your smile pressed against him. 

“Baby,” Mat groaned before he ducked his head down, until his lips found yours again. “You’re a menace.” 

You pulled back, your hands dropping to rest on his chest. “Sorry for wanting to spend some time with my boyfriend after he’s been away for a week,” you grumbled but the smile remained on your face. “I think I need to have a word with the coaching team. It’s not fair that you have morning skate when you just came back from a roadie.” 

Mat raised his brows, amused. “Not fair for who?”

“For your lonely and neglected girlfriend,” you retorted.

Mat snorted. “My poor girl.” 

Your eyes narrowed. “Don’t mock me.”

“Never,” he grinned before he leaned back up to kiss you again. “Need some lovin’?”

“Don’t say it like that,” you muttered but you leaned into the kiss, your nails lightly scratching his chest over the material of his shirt. “Makes me sound needy.” 

“You are needy,” Mat countered, lightly pinching your hip. “And I love it.” 

“Then do something about it,” you retorted, hips rolling down to feel the bulge in his sweatpants. “Mat, baby, please…” 

Mat groaned, gripping your hips to stay still despite every cell in his body wanting to do the opposite. “Baby, I can’t.” 

You huffed, your hands on his chest as you moved to climb off his lap. 

“Hey, hey,” Mat murmured as he pulled you back down, your chests pressed together. “I said I can’t. I didn’t say you couldn’t.”

Your brows furrowed in confusion. “Mat, that doesn’t make any sense—”

“Gonna make you feel good, baby,” he murmured, lifting you up enough so you were shifted off his lap and left straddling one of his legs instead. 

Your cheeks warmed at his insinuation. “Mat—”

“C’mon, I gotta leave soon,” Mat muttered against your lips as his hands squeezed your hips. “Want my pretty girl to ride my thigh before I go.”

Your brain short circuited for a small moment. 

“S’hot, babe,” Mat continued like his suggestion hadn’t completely melted your insides and washed away any coherent thoughts with it. “Pretty sure I remember you said you wanted to try it back at All-Stars—”

“I was drunk,” you defended, but your body flushed at the reminder. “And it wasn’t my fault you had your thighs out like a slut.”

He grinned. “They are all yours, baby, use them as you please.”

Your breath hitched a little. “I don’t know…”

“Shhh, just relax f’me,” Mat whispered, leaning up to kiss you again. 

You sunk into his embrace, letting the whirling thoughts in your mind come to a halting stop as his tongue swiped along your lower lip before deepening the kiss. His hands gave your hips another squeeze before he started guiding, slowly rocking you back and forth until your body was moving on it’s own accord.

“Just like that, baby,” he praised, his forehead pressed against yours as your soft pants brushed along his lips. “That’s my pretty girl. Looking so fucking good riding my thigh like that. You look so gorgeous when you use me, baby.”

Your face flushed, a pathetic whine leaving your lips. “Mat—”

“C’mon, baby,” Mat cooed, his thumbs dipping under the hem of your shirt to swipe along your heated skin. “Give me something to think about during practice.”

.

[mmflvrrs]

CIRCLES || B.H

DESCRIPTION | You and your best friend visit the pool on a hot day in Hawkins. You weren’t expecting to see your ex-boyfriend, Billy working this Friday afternoon.

PAIRING | Billy Hargrove x fem!reader

WARNINGS | Light angst, spitting, oral (f & m receiving), degradation (slut, whore), slight daddy kink, making out, cursing, P and V sex, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it, or else), marking, biting, fingering, rough sex, overstimulation, some fluff, aftercare.

WORD COUNT | 1.72k

DISCLAIMER | THIS WORK IS NOT STOLEN I AM REDOING MY ACCOUNTS INSTEAD OF HAVING ONE MULTIFANDOM ACCOUNT!!!! THIS IS REPOSTED FROM ONE OF MY OWN ACCOUNTED

GIF by fan-ficwriter2000

You and Billy had been on and off for the last few months, but never like this. This felt for real. You had always been going in circles with billy, break up, fuck, get back together, repeat.

You had been moping around for weeks, when your friend Amanda finally drags you to the pull on a day you knew Billy wouldn't be working but, to your surprise Billy was working that Friday afternoon.

"Should we leave?" Amanda asked not wanting you to go back into the funk you had been in the past few weeks.

"No, just ignore him," you sighed leaning back in your chair.

You tried your best to ignore Billy but, you knew that you were still in love with him, and knew that you would always be. He may not have been the nicest but he was the one for you. You both knew it but that never stopped your emotional intimacy issues from getting in the way.

You caught yourself stealing glances at him every chance you got. He only started noticing this now. As he caught your eye he sent you a smirk. That damned smirk.

You immediately looked away vowing not to look again.

"y/n I see the way you keep looking over there..." your friend trailed off, "If you really miss him, go talk to him."

"You don't get it Mands, This break up is different."

"How so?" She questioned. You struggled to answer, you honestly didn't know hot this differed from the others but, you something felt off.

"It just is mands," You sighed looking down once again, "Maybe you were right, maybe we should just go."

You turned to look over at Billy once more, but this time he was already looking at you. You felt like you could melt just from the feeling of him looking up your body.

You returned the gaze, you saw him mouth, 'can we talk please?' as he made a begging motion with his hands. You sighed nodding. "I'll be make mands."

After Billy got Heather to take over life guarding, he made his way over to you.

"What Billy?" You asked standing infront of him.

"I miss you, babe," He said making a pouty face," Why cant we be us again?" He said as he ran his fingers along your arms.

Your breathe hitched feeling heat radiate from your car at the contact, "Billy.."

"I know you miss me," He said whispering your ear leaving a kiss on your neck just below.

"Billy.." You started before he pulled away, interrupting you," Tell me you miss me and I'm yours."

"I miss you Billy," you sighed watching as he smirked.

"Stay til my shift is over?" He asked smiling down at you.

You nodded smiling as you made your way back to your chair.

"Where'd you go?" Mands asked, "You still wanna leave?"

"No, I'm going to stay til closed.." you said not making eye contact with her.

"You sneaky little thing," She said shaking her head," You were with Billy weren't you?"

You sighed and found yourself nodding, once again.

"Well then, I have to be home for dinner, you sure you'll be okay here til closing?"

"Yes, Mands, thanks"

You stayed tanning in the chair until the sun went down. Once Billy finished his closing duties, he came over to you. Sitting beside you on the chair.

"When did you get this?" He asked as he traced the small tattoo that was located on your hip just below your swim suit bottems.

"A few days ago.. I needed a change."

He nodded, "You ready to go?"

"Yeah," You smiled putting a your shirt back on, taking his hand.

You both made your way to his car. As he drove back your apartment, he placed his hand on your thigh, slowly inching it up, once it reached the line of your bathing suit bottoms you realized the growing wetness pooling between yours legs.

"Billy.." you whispered as his fingers slowly dipped below the cloth covering your core.

"God Baby," He groaned, "Your so fucking wet."

He brought his hand out pulling over the car. "Come here baby," He said patting his lap. You kneeled over, straddling his lap. His lips connecting with yours. You were in pure bliss at the feeling of his lips trailing down from yours marking your neck.

"Take this off for me, yeah" Billy said, tugging at the bottom of your shirt. You nodded removing the shirt.

His lips quickly connected with your skin once again. His hands grasped your tits. "God babe, you have such a good rack." You moaned at his words.

"Billy- please!" you needed more the friction of his growing bulge pressing against your core was to much.

"Tell me what you want, baby."

"I want you to touch me," You whispered throwing your head back at the feeling of his lips on continuing their attack on your neck.

"You want me to touch you like the slut, you are?" He asked looking at you like you were something he was going to destroy.

You nodded at his words. His hand slowly traveled down from your tits, to your aching core, His hand dipped below the fabric. He spread the pool of wetness around your clit, rubbing soft circles around the sensitive nub.

"Oh fuck!" you moaned as your hands immediately lacing into his hair. yanking at the roots. He loved the feeling much more than he would admit.

His fingers slipped between your folds and into your throbbing pussy. The feeling of his fingers curling inside of you, lead you to the feeling of preassure building up inside you.

"Fuck, Billy more," You moaned as you began to grind against his fingers.

"Your such a slut, y/n" He laughed at the neediness. "Thats it baby, keep fucking yourself against my fingers like the needy little whore you are."

You were trembling at the amount of pleasure building inside you.

"Oh Billy," You moaned as the pleasure finally released. Your walls tightened around his fingers.

"Fuck y/n, such a good girl for me," He smirked, placing a kiss to his lips.

"Let's finish this back at your place," He smirked, knowing that you wanted him right here and now.

"Billlyy, please baby."

He shook his head smirking, as he moved you back into the spot next to him.

You knew two could play this game. As Billy began to drive home, you placed a hand over his bulge jerking it threw his shorts.

"Y/n..." He warned, looking over at you.

"what?" You asked innocently.

You began to tug the shorts and underwear that were covering his bulge down just enough for his dick to spring up against his stomach. Your hand immediately working it.

"fuck," Billy moaned at the feeling of you working his dick.

"Eyes on the road baby," You smiled innocently as you moved your head towards his aching cock. Your lips meeting the tip leaving a delicate kiss before sucking harshly.

You continued to suck at the tip before pushing your head down, towards the base of his cock. Your eyes watered as the tip hit the back of your throat over and over again.

You felt the car come to a stop as Billy pulled your head up from his cock.

"Your such a whore," He smirked at you.

You made your way into your apartment Billy following close behind. Once you were in your bedroom he didn't waste a second before connecting your lips.

Your bathing suit didn't leave much to the imagination but, Billy tore them off anyway.

"I wanna taste you so, bad baby," He whispered against your lips.

When you felt his warm breathe against your lips you were immediately turned on.

He pushed you onto the bed, kneeling at the edge.

His tongue finding your clit without a second to spare. His arms held your legs down, as he continued to lick at your clit.

He continued licking at your clit, the pleasure nearly unbearable.

"Fuck daddy- please!" you moaned at the continuous pleasure.

He stopped after hearing what you said, "what did you just say?" He questioned.

"Billy-" You too just realized what you had said, you had talked about the pet name before but this was the first time you had used it.

"You little slut." He smirked, hovering over you, "You want me to make you a mommy?" He questioned leaning down to mark your neck once again.

He didn't give you the chance to say anything before he plunged his cock deep inside of you.

"fuck- billy" You moaned out as your hands clawed at his back. He was pounding into you harder than ever before.

"Since you wanna be a slut, I'm gonna fuck you like one," He said moving his hand to rub your clit as his cock continuously rubbed against your g-spot.

"Isn't that right baby? You wanna be my little slut," He said forcing you to look him in the eyes.

"mhmmm," you said, at the pleasure building up inside you.

"cum for me slut," Billy demanded as he rubbed at your clit faster.

You obliged at the command as you came unraveled around him. He continued to fuck you as you rode out your high.

He continued to fuck you until he cam inside you, "fuck." He threw his head back continuing to plunge into you riding out his high.

He pulled out laying beside you, "God, baby I missed you." He said placing a delicate kiss to your lips.

"I missed you too," you smiled.

"Let me clean you up," He said, running to the bathroom to get a damp cloth.

He came back wiping you bottom half, before getting you a shirt and panties to change into. He slipped back on his underwear and returned next to you into the bed.

You snuggled into him laying against his chest. "Billy.." you said as you ran your fingers along his chest, "Yes?"

"I'm sorry I broke up with you," you said looking up at him, "I let my anxiety get to me," you sighed continuing to trace shapes along his chest.

"Baby, I promise, you're the one for me," He said kissing your forehead and pulling you closer.

[plasticflowersinahistorycemetery]

this vice

part II

Pairing: Soulless!Sam x Fem!Reader

Summary: It's been six weeks since Sam last touched you. It's starting to hurt. You need it.

Warnings: 18+!, soulless!Sam is his own warning, semi-established Sam x reader, language, smut (dub-con kinda, clitoral stimulation, p in v, restraints, forced orgasms, overstim, dirty talk, coming on stomach), condescension, I may have missed some.

Word Count: 4,366

A/N: I decided to make this one a part two to "strange eyes" so... I hope y'all like it. Felt like the way to go, honestly. I've also found a way to tie it to the first part by making it inspired by another Friday Pilots Club song... so, there's that. The song is so good. Sam is so MEAN!!! My turn, pls. Let me know what you all think please!! <3 Until the next one. All the love.

"Well this vice, this sweet temptation The answer to frustration Put it down on me, put it down Put it down on me

Well my girl, she's bad as hell You know a little fucked up now but oh well"

Bad As Hell - Friday Pilots Club

It didn't happen again.

Not the next night. Not the one after. Not even the one after that.

You waited. You tried.

You wore the pretty things. Spoke softly. Laughed at nothing. Let your hands linger too long on his arm, his shoulder, the nape of his neck when he passed too close. You kissed him once, slow and hopeful, and he let you—

—but he didn't kiss you back.

The memory of that first night haunted you like a bruise in your bloodstream. You could feel it every time you shifted in your seat, every time your thighs pressed together under motel sheets that still smelled like him. You'd touched yourself in the dark more times than you'd admit, and still it wasn't enough. Not after that.

You craved it. You craved him.

But he just looked through you. Past you. Over you.

Sometimes he'd watch. When you thought he was asleep, you'd catch the faint glint of his eyes in the dark. Just watching you sit there, or pace the room, or peel off your clothes with slow, deliberate fingers like he might suddenly want you if you moved just right.

He didn't.

Once, you whispered his name. Just that. Just "Sam."

He turned his head. Glanced at you. Said, "Not tonight."

And that was it. No reason. No cruelty. Just a wall you couldn't scale. It made you worse. It made you try harder. Made you burn.

And you knew he saw it.

He watched you every time you left the shower wrapped in nothing but steam and skin. He watched the way your breath caught when you leaned too close, hoping maybe this time he'd touch. He watched when you sat on the bed in nothing but his shirt, your legs curled up, voice light and meaningless as you said something—anything—to fill the silence.

And then he'd say something like, "You're gonna overheat in that."

Like he hadn't just spent the last hour refusing to touch you. Like he didn't care. And maybe he didn't.

But you did.

And each time he looked at you with those strange, indifferent eyes—eyes that didn't blink, didn't flinch, didn't soften—you felt something in you ache deeper.

Something begging to be broken.

You were already halfway gone by the time he asked if you'd ever been tied down before.

It started differently that night. Not with words. Not with warmth. Just... a shift. A quiet pulse beneath the surface of the motel silence. Like the static before a storm.

He wasn't cold. He wasn't distant. He was something else entirely. Coiled.

You felt it before you saw him. The tension in the air was palpable, electric, like something was waiting to happen—but refusing to name itself.

When he stepped out of the bathroom, his hair damp and curling slightly at the ends, steam ghosted after him like a spectre. His chest bare. Sweatpants slung low on his hips. There was no pretence in him. Just presence. Weighted. Measured.

You were already in bed, curled on top of the sheets in one of his old shirts, bare beneath it. Sleeves loose, neckline stretched, your body too warm, too exposed, but you hadn't dared move. Not when you felt him coming like that—like gravity.

He looked at you. And this time—really looked.

Not with the softness he used to carry. Not with anything familiar. Just the quiet scrutiny of a man who was considering what to do with a thing he'd left untouched for too long.

You sat up too fast. Your breath caught. Hope bloomed too violently in your chest, sharp and stupid.

He didn't speak. Just came to the bed and sat beside you, heavy and slow. His thigh pressed against yours.

You didn't move. Couldn't.

Then his hand reached out—dragged over your skin. First your knee. Then the inside of your thigh. Calloused fingertips brushing like he was testing a fault line.

You nearly cried from the contact. Your thighs instinctively pressed together. He didn't react.

And then, like it was nothing, like he was asking whether you wanted your eggs scrambled or fried, he said:

"Ever been tied down before?"

Your mouth went dry. You blinked. Swallowed. Your voice came out breathy, unsure. "Yeah. I mean. Not like—seriously. Not properly. But if you're asking, then—yes. Please."

That last word tumbled out before you could think. Please.

So soft. So desperate. Your face burned with it. You hated how real it sounded. How much you meant it.

But Sam didn't smirk. Didn't lean in. Didn't touch you again. He just nodded once. Sharp. Final. Like he'd already decided.

And then he stood.

You watched him walk to his bag. Watched the tension in his shoulders, the easy cruelty in his posture. He knelt slowly. Unzipped the duffel.

And pulled out cuffs. Not cheap. Not novelty. These were serious. Silver hardware. Matte black. You stared as he brought them over, as he climbed onto the bed and guided your wrists up above your head.

You didn't resist. You couldn't. Your breath came in shallow, shaking waves as he buckled one, then the other, the cool kiss of leather biting softly into your skin.

He didn't speak. Not once.

Your legs were still free, and that felt intentional. But you were too far gone to question it. Because after nearly six weeks of silence, of being looked through like you didn't exist, of begging with your body for anything—

Sam was finally touching you. And you would've let him ruin you all over again just to feel it.

You didn't know what you expected.

Maybe that he'd kiss you. Maybe that he'd strip the shirt off your body and slide between your legs and whisper things he didn't mean in that voice you still dreamed about.

Maybe—stupidly, naively—you thought this would be the night he touched you the way he used to. That the restraints were a doorway back to something you missed, not the beginning of something else entirely.

He said nothing.

Just fastened the last buckle at your wrist, checked the tension, and leaned back on his haunches to study you like a sculpture he wasn't quite finished with. His eyes dragged across your body with clinical disinterest. Like he wasn't moved by you—just measuring.

You shifted a little, testing the give in the cuffs. They didn't budge.

He noticed. Of course he did.

Then he stood. Walked across the room with slow, quiet purpose. You lifted your head to follow him, confused—but something low in your belly was already starting to stir. That old instinct. That familiar fear that felt like arousal.

He knelt by his bag again. Unzipped it. And pulled out something long. White. Thick.

It took you a second to understand what you were looking at. The cord. The shape. The sound it made when he plugged it into the socket beside him and thumbed the switch.

Your stomach dropped.

A wand. The kind that plugs into the wall. Heavy-duty. No batteries. No escape.

"Sam?" You breathed.

He didn't answer. Just cracked his neck, unplugged it, and stood up. Then plugged the thing into a socket nearer the bed. The cord slithered across the floor like a serpent.

He climbed onto the bed. Settled between your thighs like it was his place. Like he owned the space he hadn't touched in weeks.

The wand was still off. But you felt its promise like a threat. He ran it up your inner thigh. Not pressed—just a ghost of contact. Barely there. Then down. A slow stroke. He traced the curve of your knee. The hollow behind it. Down to your ankle. Then up again. Past your knee. Higher. A glancing drag that made your muscles jump. He tickled your foot with it. Cruel. Teasing.

You shivered.

"Sam," you whispered again. "What are you doing?"

No answer.

You tried again. "Are you gonna...?"

Still nothing.

Just the hum of electricity waiting to be lit. And then—just when you were starting to spiral, starting to plead—you said something. You don't even remember what. A joke. A plea. Something breathless and silly and yours. And that's what grabbed him.

His head tilted.

He looked at you. Really looked. And then—without a word—he leaned in, braced one forearm across your hips, and pressed the wand hard to your clit.

It felt like being hit by lightning. You screamed. He didn't blink. Just watched.

And the wand was still on its lowest setting.

You came too fast. Your body had been wound so tight for so long—starved of touch, of friction, of him—that the first hard press of the wand against your clit was enough to detonate you.

It ripped through you like heat lightning. Blinding. Blistering. Your thighs trembled. Your lungs forgot how to breathe. Your wrists strained against the cuffs until the metal bit into your skin.

And he didn't move. He didn't speak. He just watched. Like it wasn't happening to you at all—just a reaction. Just a hypothesis proven true. An equation balancing itself out.

You sobbed once. Sharp and sudden. And that was the only sound you got out before the wand hit you again.

Because he never lifted it.

You weren't even done shaking, and he never lifted it. There was no break. No breath. No reprieve. Just the relentless, searing vibration pulsing into your nerves, still raw and shattered from the orgasm that hadn't even finished echoing through your limbs.

Your hips jerked. Instinctively. Desperately. Trying to get away, to shift, to slide the wand even half an inch from your clit—but his forearm anchored you to the mattress. Heavy and absolute.

It was like being pinned under time itself.

You gasped. Whimpered. "S-Sam—wait—" Your voice cracked on the second syllable.

Nothing. Just the low, brutal hum of the wand vibrating mercilessly against your most fragile point.

Your back arched. Toes curled. You could feel the second orgasm building impossibly fast, but it didn't feel like pleasure. It felt like pain melting into something sharper. Tears welled. Slipped hot down your cheeks. You didn't know when you started crying. It didn't matter.

"Sam, please—it hurts—"

Still no answer. Still no shift.

But he was watching you. Always watching.

His eyes dragged across your face with unsettling calm. You were a trembling, sweating mess and he looked like he was studying weather patterns. Your flushed cheeks. Your bitten lip. The tears that carved silver streaks through the heat of your face. The war in your pupils between panic and want.

You felt it coming again. That unbearable, crashing wave. And you hated how your body begged for it. How you couldn't stop clenching down. How you couldn't stop needing.

Then, finally—

"Are you gonna beg me?"

His voice didn't sound like it belonged to a man touching you. It was too even. Too distant. A detached curiosity. Like he wasn't participating—just conducting the experiment.

You nodded frantically, blinking through tears.

"Please, Sam, please—I c-can't—just let me—please—"

Words fell apart in your mouth. They came out soft. Wrecked. Sweet like blood on sugar.

And he tilted his head. Considered it. Smirked. Then—

"Nope."

And he turned the power up.

The sound deepened. Louder. Thicker. It shook against your clit, brutal and unrelenting.

Your mouth dropped open in a scream that didn't make it out. You couldn't breathe. Couldn't form words. All that came was sound—broken, high, helpless. You thrashed, tried to close your legs, but he slid his knee between them, kept you open, kept you exposed.

"Careful," he said absently. "I'll tie those down too."

And he would. You knew he would. And still—still—your body was rising again. Not from desire. Not from thought. From conditioning. From the helpless surrender of something completely, irrevocably owned.

You were going to come again. And he wasn't going to stop you.

He smirked. Not like someone enjoying himself. Like someone watching a match catch fire in slow motion.

And then—without a word—he turned the dial. The wand kicked up beneath his hand, the hum deepening, vibrating with cruel, mechanical certainty. You couldn't breathe around it. Couldn't think. Couldn't beg anymore.

You screamed.

Your hips lifted off the bed, thighs trembling violently, but his forearm pressed you back down with practiced, effortless strength. Not straining. Just present. Just unmovable.

Your whole body was shaking now—every nerve singing, cracking, splitting under the pressure. Your wrists jerked against the restraints. Useless. Beautiful. Perfect.

Sam didn't speak.

Just tilted his head again. Watched you like something in a museum. A rare, private performance of ruin he had all to himself. His eyes scanned every inch of you—your breasts heaving, your stomach quaking, the wet mess between your thighs glistening in the dim motel light.

At one point, your moans turned guttural. Animal. You were growling now—deep, primal sounds tearing out of your throat as you thrashed beneath him, desperate and feral.

He didn't even blink. Just quirked an eyebrow. Frowned slightly, like he was considering something.

Maybe it was the tears. Maybe it was the way your legs kept trying to close, spasming around his body.

He shifted his weight slightly. Let the wand ease off for just a second—not mercy, just a pause in the procedure.

Then, quietly:

"You keep kicking like that, I'm gonna tie your legs down." His voice was flat. Low. Not a threat. A guarantee.

You sobbed—half fear, half pleasure, all wreckage.

"Sam—please—I c-can't take it, I can't—"

"Mm," he murmured, like he wasn't listening at all. Like he was just acknowledging the noise.

Then he pressed the wand back down. Hard.

You shattered. It was your third orgasm—or fourth? You didn't know. Couldn't count. Couldn't breathe. All you knew was the white-hot pleasure burning through you like fever, nerves flayed open, clit swollen and screaming, muscles locked in a full-body convulsion.

And still—he watched.

"You look good like this," he murmured, almost to himself.

His eyes dragged down your body again, and something in them changed. Just for a second. Not softness. Not warmth. Something darker. Appreciation.

"Didn't know you could come like that," he added.

Then he reached down with his free hand, dragged two fingers through the slick mess between your thighs, lifted it, and watched it string between them.

You were still twitching. Still sobbing.

He tilted his head.

"Still want me to stop?"

You nodded, breath hitching.

He smiled. "Too bad."

And turned the wand up again.

You stopped fighting. Somewhere between the last orgasm and the silence that came after it, your body just... gave.

You weren't moaning anymore. You weren't pleading. Your legs had stopped twitching, fallen limp against the mattress. Your wrists hung slack in the cuffs, fingers curled in weak, trembling fists. Your jaw had gone slack, mouth wet and open, your breath a ghost barely making it past your lips.

The wand was still buzzing against your clit. The vibrations felt like they were coming from inside your bones. Like you weren't separate from it anymore—just a body wrapped around sensation.

And Sam—

He was still watching. Expression unreadable. Not smirking. Not smiling. Not cruel. Just... aware. Like he was watching a star die. Like he was documenting the end of something.

You blinked through the blur of your own tears. Your mouth parted. You swallowed hard. Licked your lips. Tried to speak.

"Sam," you whispered. It didn't even sound like a word. Just a shape. A sob turned sideways.

His eyes flicked to yours. And you knew you had him.

"Please," you said again. Softer now. Wetter. Your voice cracked in the middle, jaw trembling as you pushed the words out around spit and sobs. "I just want to feel you."

He didn't answer. Just tilted his head. Considered you.

You swallowed hard. Fought against the breath trembling in your lungs. It caught in your throat and broke open like a wound.

"Please fuck me," you whispered. "I need you inside me."

And that—that—was the moment the wand shut off.

The silence felt like a gunshot. Deafening. Immediate. Your whole body flinched like it had been struck.

You sobbed without sound, throat too raw to make more noise, your body folding inward like it didn't know what to do without the pain.

Sam shifted his weight. Reached down. Dragged your legs apart a little wider with rough, patient hands.

Didn't say a word.

He didn't untie your wrists. Didn't lean down to kiss you. Didn't offer comfort or care or anything that resembled the man you used to know.

He just pushed into you. One smooth, slow thrust. Deep. Unstoppable.

You cried out—raw, grateful, broken. You were so tight. So swollen. So soaked.

He groaned, low in his chest. His hips stilled against yours. His cock buried to the base.

You sobbed again. A shudder passed through your whole frame.

"Thank you," you whispered. Voice shredded. Barely a breath.

And finally—finally—he smiled.

You should've been too far gone to feel any of it. You should've been numb. Raw. Burnt-out. But the moment Sam pushed into you—deep, slow, unrelenting—your body betrayed you. You felt it. Every inch of him. Every thick, unforgiving stretch. The way your walls clenched without meaning to, the way your breath caught, the way your ribs shook like they were bracing for collapse.

And Sam—

He groaned. Loud. Low. Like the sound was ripped from the centre of him, like it surprised even him. His voice came thick with it, gravel and heat and the barest echo of awe.

"Fuck," he hissed, his hips pressing forward until he was buried to the hilt. He held there, motionless, like he was savouring the pressure, the heat, the obscene way your cunt wrapped around him like it never wanted to let go.

He moved then, just enough for you to feel it. A subtle drag and push, a slow grind that made you choke on a moan.

He laughed under his breath, not mocking, not amused—just satisfied. Sated. Possessive.

"This what happens when I don't fuck you for a while?" He muttered, the words sliding out like sin. "Get all tight and gummy for me?"

Your legs shook, useless things twitching in time with every slow roll of his hips. You tried to lift them, to wrap them around his waist, to pull him deeper somehow, but you had no strength left. Your limbs were jelly, your body trembling with aftershock and overstimulation.

He noticed, of course. He always noticed.

He grabbed your legs, one in each hand, and bent them to his liking. Spread you wider. Pushed your thighs back until you were completely open to him, nothing hidden, nothing held back. A helpless offering.

"Been dripping for me for weeks," he murmured, more to himself than to you. "Didn't think you could get wetter. But look at this—"

He bottomed out again, slow and sure, and you sobbed at the stretch.

"You hear that?"

And you did. That slick, filthy sound of him fucking into you. The wet slap of skin and the obscene suction of your cunt trying to hold him in. That squelch. It echoed, filled the room, drowned you.

"You're fucking soaked," he growled. "Tight little cunt, and so fucking wet—just from begging."

It should've been cruel. Should've been humiliating. But it wasn't. It was worship, in the way only he could give it now—clinical, feral, exacting.

And your body—fragile, shattered thing that it was—reacted.

Somehow, impossibly, you felt it again. A flicker. A spark. A low coil in your gut starting to pull, starting to burn.

A new orgasm. Real. Alive. Building.

You shouldn't have had anything left. You should've been dry and broken and spent. But he was still inside you. Still filling you.

And somehow, you wanted more.

Sam fucked you deep and steady, hips working in patient rhythm, each thrust a study in precision. He moved like a man obsessed with sensation, with friction, with the hot, pulsing clamp of your body trying to pull him deeper. His breath hitched through gritted teeth, short and hot and ragged.

"Still squeezing me," he muttered, voice pitched low with something almost reverent. "Still fucking clenching. Greedy little thing."

You nodded, unable to do anything else. A whimper slipped past your lips, helpless and pleading.

His grip on your thighs tightened.

"Gonna come again, aren't you?"

And god help you—you were.

You couldn't stop nodding. It wasn't deliberate. You weren't even aware you were doing it. Your mouth hung slack, jaw trembling, drool catching on your lips, and your head just bobbed—slow, frantic, helpless—like your body was trying to say yes before your mind could catch up.

Your chest heaved. Every breath came ragged. And your vision—fuck, your vision—kept slipping in and out of focus, blurring at the edges like you were looking through water, like the world was trying to fade into white.

And Sam—

He noticed.

He was watching your face like he always did, like he was measuring something no one else could see. And when he saw your eyes start to roll, to cross from the pressure and the pleasure and the sheer overload of it all, he made a noise low in his throat. Something mean.

"Oh yeah," he muttered, voice dragging rough over your skin. "There it is."

He adjusted his grip on your thighs, spread you even wider. His thrusts stayed steady, deliberate, but now each one came with weight. Purpose. Like he was trying to drag your soul out through your cunt.

"Eyes are going all stupid on me," he murmured, not even breathless. Just observing. "You know they're crossing, right?"

Your mouth opened wider. You couldn't even whimper. Just little gasps. Little sobs.

He leaned in closer. Didn't slow down. His hips snapped harder, deeper, and the sound of him inside you was obscene—wet, relentless, flesh against flesh, the room filled with it.

"Ruined," he said, almost to himself. "Look at you. All wrecked for me."

You blinked slow, barely conscious, and he laughed—low and cruel and fond.

"Think you're gonna come again, baby?" He asked. "Huh?"

You nodded wildly. Couldn't stop. Couldn't breathe.

"You look like you're about to pass out," he said, and there was genuine amusement in his voice now. "Mouth open, eyes crossed, legs shaking—fuck. You're loving this, aren't you?"

You tried to say yes, but all that came out was a wrecked little noise, part sob, part moan, all devotion.

Sam groaned again, deeper this time, hips stuttering.

"So goddamn wet," he said. "So fucking tight."

He looked down between you—watched his cock disappear inside your soaked, trembling body—and exhaled through his teeth.

"Still clenching like you don't plan on letting me go."

Your whole body was tensing now. Coiling. The burn rising again. Higher. Higher. You couldn't believe it. Couldn't survive it. But it was coming.

And Sam knew it. He knew everything.

You came like it was being ripped out of you. No build. No grace. No warning. Just a violent collapse.

It tore through you without permission, without pause, your body locking up tight and trembling like it had been hit with a live wire. Your mouth dropped open in a silent scream, your wrists yanked against the restraints, and every muscle in your body seized as wave after wave rolled through you—hot, endless, obscene.

Sam didn't stop.

He fucked you through it. Groaning now. Low, primal. The rhythm of his hips was brutal, unforgiving. Like he wanted to feel every single aftershock drag against his cock.

"There she is," he growled, watching your face contort. "That's the sound I was waiting for."

You sobbed through it, barely able to breathe, your thighs quaking around his waist. He slapped your cheek—not hard, but enough to make your eyes snap open, unfocused and wet.

"Don't you fucking pass out on me," he muttered, panting, sweat dripping from his jaw. "Not yet."

He fucked you harder.

You wailed.

"So squishy," he grunted. "So fucking gummy and tight. Knew I could get you like this if I just left you wanting long enough."

Your entire body jerked with each thrust, overstimulated and undone.

"Sulking around for weeks," he murmured, voice edged in something sharp, amused. "All moody. All needy. Thought I didn't notice?"

His mouth twisted into a mean little grin.

"Didn't really care. Not until now."

Another thrust. Hard. Deep.

"But this?" He breathed. "This made it worth it."

You hiccuped around your own breath, body twitching beneath him.

"I could come wherever I want," he muttered, eyes locked on the mess he was making of you. "Could come inside you, watch it leak out slow—"

Another snap of his hips. You cried out.

"—or maybe push into your ass and shoot there instead."

You choked on a sob. Hiccuped again.

He laughed, breathless and dark.

"Maybe next time."

And then he pulled out.

You didn't even feel the loss—you were too far gone, too wrecked. A moment later, the heat of him painted across your stomach. He groaned, low and rough, as he came—thick and hot over your skin, dripping down your ribs and pooling into the waistband of his shirt still hanging from your shoulders.

He stayed there for a second, cock twitching, breath ragged. Then he looked at you and smiled.

The room was silent except for the hum of the motel's old air conditioner and the soft, broken sound of your own breath.

You couldn't move.

Your wrists still strained in their restraints, numb and tingling from how hard you'd pulled against them. Your legs had fallen open and stayed there, spent and twitching. The cool air licked over your thighs and the warm, wet mess drying across your stomach. Your body didn't feel like yours anymore—it felt like his.

Sam didn't speak at first. He just looked at you.

No tenderness. No apology. Just those soulless, strange eyes studying you like you were something he'd built and finally gotten right.

He leaned forward. His fingers brushed the inside of your thigh, then dragged higher to your stomach, where your skin still gleamed. He wiped it away with the edge of the ruined shirt you were still wearing—his shirt, the one he hadn't bothered to take off you.

Not until he was done.

He didn't look at your face when he cleaned you. Just moved like he was tidying up after himself. Like it was routine.

Then his hands moved to the cuffs.

He unbuckled one wrist, then the other. Slow. Precise. As if the restraint had never been about force—it had always been about control.

You let your arms fall to your sides. Rubbed your wrists gently. Felt the ache bloom.

Sam pulled the hem of the shirt down over your body. It stuck to your skin in places, clinging damply to your ribs, your stomach. He didn't fix it. Just let it settle there.

And then he lay down beside you. He didn't touch you. Didn't hold you. Just laid back, arm tucked under his head, eyes on the ceiling. And finally—quietly—he said it.

"You needed that."

You didn't answer. Not right away.

Your chest rose and fell in shallow, uneven waves. You turned your head slowly to look at him. He was already watching you. Always watching. That same unreadable expression. That same stillness. Like nothing in him had changed, even after all he'd done.

Those strange eyes.

They should've scared you. But they didn't.

"Do you regret it?" He asked. His voice was low. Calm. Clinical.

You rubbed your wrists again. Felt the skin there—warm and worn. You thought about everything that had led to this. The waiting. The silence. The ruin. And then you whispered:

"No."

And maybe—just maybe—you really meant it.

Sam taglist: @losers-clvb @bejeweledinterludes @angelicjackles @sacr1ficialang3l @blossomingorchids @xoswiftieprincess @mostlymarvelgirl @lunaleah @itshellfire @drakulana @nevercameraready @liiiilsss @mj-102009 @bohoooitsme @n3lly-h3artz @deangirlsstuff67 <3

[justagalwhowrites]

Halcyon - Ch. 17: You're Sorry, Great. Awesome.

You and Joel throw Sarah a birthday party. Things don't go as planned. A continuation of Halcyon from the prologue through Ch. 16, a modern no outbreak AU TLOU fic found on Tumblr here.

(I am BEGGING HBO for some flashback scenes this season PLEASE.)

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader

Warnings: SMUT! Unprotected P in V sex. Fingering. Kind of aggressive sex. Modern No Outbreak AU, No use of Y/N, Slow burn, 18+ only, Minors DNI

Length: 7k

AO3 | Main Master List | Prologue | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

“You gonna come for me?” 

Joel was everywhere, fucking everywhere, deep inside, pressed tight over you, arms looped around beneath you, his breath hot against your ear as he sucked wetly at your neck. All you could do was whimper below him, clawing at his skin as you scrambled to keep him close. 

“There you go,” he said, voice low and quiet and rough. “Fuck, gettin’ so damn tight on me, you’re close baby, lemme feel you.” 

You angled your hips as best you could below him so that every thrust reached deep and every motion worked your clit. 

“Joel,” you breathed, desperate and too close to your climax to care that you sounded pathetic and needy. “You feel so good, fuck, please, please, please…” 

His thrusts grew harder, sloppy, panting breathlessly against your skin. 

“Love makin’ you feel good,” he said, sounding half out of his mind as he did. “Fuck, love makin’ you come, you gotta come for me baby, I need it, c’mon honey, please, fuck, I love, I love…” 

Your orgasm hit you hard, making you cry out, pressing your mouth into Joel’s shoulder to muffle the sound of your pleasure. 

“Oh fuck,” he groaned, his hips stuttering. “That’s right, keep comin’ for me, gonna fill you up, fill you up so fuckin’ good, leave you drippin’ me all damn day, fuck!” 

He pressed deep and you could feel the heavy throb of his orgasm as he spilled into you, his come hot and thick on your most sensitive places inside. The feel of him pressing himself tight against you, clinging to you like you were all he wanted, made you come again around him, this orgasm more subdued as you focused on just how damn good he felt inside you. 

“Holy shit,” he panted, going limp on top of you as both of your orgasms eased.

“Tell me about it,” you said, breathless too, trailing your fingers up and down the broad expanse of his back. 

He laughed a little. 

“Fuck I love startin’ my day that way,” he said, pushing himself up from you and kissing your forehead as he slid out of you, a thick thread of his come and yours connecting your bodies for a moment before he collapsed at your side. 

You waited, as you always did, for him to decide how close the two of you would be after. But he tugged you against him, so your head was on his chest and his arm was around your shoulders, giving you a squeeze. You draped your arm over his broad chest and snuggled closer, breathing in the smell of his skin. You always liked having time like this with Joel but you were extra thankful for it then, the stress of getting ready for Sarah’s birthday pool party easier when you had a few reliable orgasms every day. Now that the day had arrived and you had a list of things that still needed doing, it seemed necessary to soak up that closeness with him while you could get it. 

“Me too,” you said quietly. 

“Speaking of starting the day,” he said and you could hear the smile in his voice. “You ready to have about two dozen tweens crash in on us for the afternoon?” 

You snorted. 

“As I’ll ever be,” you said. “I think we have everything except the cake and a few snacks but we should check again before one of us goes to pick it up.”

“See, logistics like this are why I never did this before,” Joel teased. “So much easier to just show up at a bowling alley or some shit where they do it all for you.” 

“She’s going to have so much fun though,” you smiled a little, remembering going to Party City with Sarah a few weeks before to find things for the party. She’d excitedly picked all the purple butterfly covered decorations and invitations, beaming as she did, her front teeth still a little too big for her face. “You’re going to have cool dad points for months off this.” 

“Fuckin’ better,” he said and you nuzzled closer to him as you laughed and he sighed. “I’m gonna miss this, Goldie girl.” 

“What, starting your day fucking someone?” You teased even though it stung knowing that’s all it was. 

You and Joel had thrown yourselves fully into the friends with benefits arrangement over the last month. You fucked every day, usually before he went to work - when Ellie’s early morning cries got one of you out of bed for at least a few minutes to settle her before returning and getting tangled in each other - and again in the evening when Sarah and Ellie were both asleep and you could take your time - pulling orgasm after orgasm from each other until you passed out, naked and sweaty and slick with come. You loved it. Far more than you should love it, so much that you had to fight to keep from saying it and ruining everything. You’d finally found some way to almost have what you wanted, you weren’t about to wreck it just because you couldn’t keep your mouth shut. 

But it was all ending soon, anyway. Anna had a release date from the inpatient program you’d gotten her into and, after talking with her and her doctors, you’d decided that you and Ellie would move into Anna’s house for a while. That meant leaving Joel’s and his bed and the comfort you found inside his space. 

“Don’t act like you’re not gonna miss that, too,” you could hear the roll of his eyes as he spoke. “But I more mean doin’ stuff like throwing this party with you. If you weren’t here, I’d just be stressed about it if I were doing it at all. But you’re here so I can look forward to it and how happy it’s going to make her and I’m going to miss having you here to do that shit with.” 

“I’m not going far,” you said, smiling a little into his chest. “But I get what you mean. Taking care of Ellie was so scary at first but you’re here and now, it’s not. Because I’m doing it with you.” 

Joel trailed his fingers up and down your upper arm and you just lay there with him, feeling his warmth and the softness of his skin and wishing you could find some way to be this close to him all the time. 

“You could just have Anna move in here,” he said and you laughed. “Hey, I’m serious!” 

“I know,” you said. “But no, not the best idea for this stage of recovery, that’s a lot of upheaval when she’s already going to be adjusting to life outside and as a mom. But once I bring Ellie there, Anna’s going to be seeing a therapist daily and if she’s getting overwhelmed, she’s going back in. Who knows, I might be back here before you know it.” 

“Hate that you’re makin’ me be against you showing back up here,” he said, just as the alarm on your phone started to ring. He groaned and you rolled to turn it off but you were only away from him for a moment before he pulled you back with a little yelp. 

“Hey!” You laughed into his chest. “C’mon, we need to get going…” 

“We got time,” he said, his voice husky, his hand skimming over your side, fingers trailing up to your breast. 

“Joel…” you breathed, sounding just as needy as you felt and you tried to avoid the twinge of shame that crept in with that need. 

“C’mon,” he said, tilting your chin so he could kiss you. “Lemme have you again. We got time.” 

His hold on you tightened and so did the knot in your stomach and you knew you couldn’t say no to him. You never could. 

“OK,” you said softly. “We got time.” 

You were both still breathless when Sarah knocked on Joel’s door about 30 minutes later and you turned to muffle the almost maniacal giggle that slipped out of you as she spoke. 

“Hey Dad?” She called to you both. “Can we have pancakes?” 

“Sure thing, baby girl,” he panted. “Just… five minutes.” 

You could practically hear her frown through the door. 

“What are you guys doing in there?” She asked. “You sound weird.” 

“Just… gettin’ ready for the party,” he said and you snorted. He pulled you tight against him so your mouth was pressed tight to his chest. “Be out in a minute.” 

Once the two of you left the quiet privacy of his bedroom, things moved quickly. You bounced and fed Ellie while Joel made breakfast for the three people in the house eating solid food. After you ate, Joel cleaned up while you put Ellie in a baby wrap and worked with Sarah to decorate the living room and the pool. She carefully decided where she wanted the gift table and where the snacks should be, what games should be out, where goodie bags should live, stepping back and considering everything with a serious look on her face that you had to fight to not giggle at. 

“OK,” she said after a while as she surveyed the space and gave a firm nod. “I think it’s perfect.” 

“You picked a good set up, kiddo,” you smiled, not even irritated that you’d swapped the gift table and the snack table’s positions four times. “Everyone’s going to have a great time.” 

“I hope so,” she said, beaming. “I can’t believe I get a pool party! I’m going to go get ready!” 

You and Joel left Sarah at the house to do her hair while the two of you took Ellie to pick up the cake and the last few things you needed at the store. 

Your niece was strapped to your chest and you were halfway down the chip aisle when you ran into Alyssa, the friend at work you’d made at the start of the school year that you hadn’t spoken to in months, too wrapped up in everything with Ellie and Anna and Joel to do anything like maintain a relationship with a coworker. 

“Oh, my God!” She beamed at you, pulling you in for an awkward hug with Ellie to the side. “I haven’t seen you in… shit, months? How’ve you been? Busy, I see!” 

“Yeah,” you laughed a little. “I’ve had my hands full taking care of this one. My sister’s… sick.” 

“Well, she’s an absolute doll!” She smiled broadly, leaning in to Ellie who beamed back at her, smiling her little gummy smile. “Hi there, cutie! Are you keeping your auntie from writing the next great American novel? Are you totally worth it? I think so!” 

“OK I got the cookies, too,” Joel said, coming up behind you and putting his hand on the small of your back, reaching around you to drop the packages in the cart. “Don’t know what kids don’t like fuckin’ cake but…” You cleared your throat as your cheeks got hot, feeling oddly exposed at the idea of having someone see Joel’s casual intimacy with you like this, Joel’s face near yours in a place you might kiss him if the two of you were at home. “Oh. Hi. I’m sorry, have we met?” 

“Yeah, hi,” she smiled, straightening and looking Joel up and down in that way she had. “I’m Alyssa, we ran into each other when you came by campus toward the start of the school year. Good to see you again! It looks like you two have gotten…” 

“Oh, no,” you laughed quickly, eyes darting to Joel, hoping he wasn’t panicking at the concept of being with you. “No, no, we’re… he’s been helping with Ellie here, he has a daughter so…” 

“Yeah, I’ve just done it all before,” he said, an odd twinge in his voice. “Don’t mind helpin’ out.” 

“That’s so nice of you,” Alyssa said, still watching Joel closely. “God, there’s just something about a man who’s good with kids…” 

“We are in high demand,” Joel said, a new flirtatious edge to his tone that made your stomach get tight. “Sorry to pull this one away but, speaking of kids, we got a birthday party to get back and finish settin’ up for…” 

“Oh, of course,” she smiled, waving him off. “Sorry, I don’t want to keep the two of you on a Saturday! But… you know, if you two aren’t…” 

“We’re not,” you said, probably too harshly, not able to look at Joel as you said it. 

“Then maybe we could have a drink sometime,” she said, as though you hadn’t spoken. “She’s got my number, if you’re interested.” 

“Uh,” Joel said and you forced yourself to glance his way, his hand still on the small of your back. “Yeah, alright, I’ll… I’ll let you know.” 

“Looking forward to it,” she winked before looking back to Ellie. “Goodbye, sweet girl!” And then she looked to you. “So good to see you!” 

“Yeah,” you forced a smile. “You, too.” 

You watched her go before turning back to Joel. 

“Sorry, that was…” you searched for the word. “Awkward.” 

“Yeah, think you could have denied that a little harder,” he said wryly and you glared at him. “What? Don’t think I’m that embarrassing.” 

“You know you’re not embarrassing,” you rolled your eyes. “I just… don’t want to tie you down.” 

“You don’t tie me down,” he said. 

“That’s sweet,” you said, grabbing the biggest bag of Doritos and adding them to the cart. “But… you know, the lists did include helping each other find a stable relationship and -” you looked around quickly, lowering your voice as you did “- we both know that friends with benefits is not that.” 

“So you’re gonna set me up with your friend?” He asked, sounding almost annoyed. 

You frowned. 

“What, are you going to pretend like she’s not your type?” 

He just looked at you for a moment, his jaw tight. 

“Never mind,” he said. “Let’s just go get the cake.” 

“What?” You asked, following after him as he took over pushing the cart. 

“Nothin’,” he said. “Don’t worry about it.” 

“Joel,” you caught up with him. “Is everything…” 

“It’s fine,” he snapped as the two of you got to the bakery counter. “Just drop it, alright? Jesus.” 

“Fine,” you muttered as Ellie started to fuss against you. “Dropped.” 

But you didn’t want to drop it. You tried to find a way to bring it up again but Joel was still surly on the drive back to the house, his mouth still in a thin line as he carried things in from the car. 

“Are you really going to be like this all day?” You asked quietly as you set the cake on the table in the living room next to the butterfly themed plates. “Because…” 

“I’m not bein’ like anything,” he said. “I’m fine. I don’t know why you keep askin’.” 

“Because you’ve been acting weird since the chip aisle,” you said. “And Sarah’s been looking forward to this for like two months.” 

“She’s my kid,” he said, defensive. “I know that she’s looking forward to it, alright? And I have not been ‘acting weird.’” He put the words in air quotes. “I’m just stressed about making this party happened, not everything is about you and what your people think, Goldie.” 

You pulled back from him, his words sharp. 

“I’m sorry that my coworker thought we were a couple,” you hissed, keeping your voice low. “We’re not in high school anymore and while you night think anyone would be a better option than me but not everyone is going to just assume that you could never want me!” 

“That’s what you think?” He asked, stepping closer to you, his hands on his hips, his shoulders feeling unreasonably broad. “You think that’s why I’m upset?” 

“Aunt Goldie?” Sarah said, running into the room, a sarong in her arms and wearing the swimsuit you’d helped her pick the week before. “Can you help me put this thing on? I can’t figure it out.” 

“Of course, kiddo,” you said, taking the sarong and giving Joel a look. “Come on, we’ll get it figured out.” 

You left Joel with the snacks and went to help Sarah, trying to shove Alyssa and Joel’s shitty mood out of your mind. 

***

Sarah was happy. 

Joel kept reminding himself of that. 

Sarah. Was. Happy. 

That was the important thing, that’s what mattered, that’s what the two of you had been planning and working on for weeks, throwing Sarah the party she’d been begging him for for years. 

And now it was here, Sarah was happy and he had a grill full of burgers and hot dogs, a backyard full of 25 pre-teens and a handful of parents who’d volunteered to help make sure no one drowned. 

Including the dad of one of the kids in Sarah’s class. One who had a decade on you and Joel and was apparently single and deciding to make that your fucking problem. 

And Joel wasn’t sure how long he was supposed to stand here and watch you flirt with that fucking guy. 

It was bad enough, getting hit on in front of you at the fucking grocery store and watching you rush to dodge any connection you had with him. No, now he also had to deal with this fucking asshole who was - frustratingly - not really an asshole at all. 

Tim was a guy Joel had met a few times, one of the few hands on dads in Sarah’s class. They’d chaperoned a few field trips together and Joel liked the guy. Or he had, anyway. The pair hand bonded over their daughters’ love of Taylor Swift and learning how to do hair and their shared apprehension of the coming teen years. He was good natured, an invested father, a guy he’d have liked to grab a beer with sometime. He’d been meaning to try to get their kids together and see if he could actually, maybe, have a friend outside of you and his brother. 

And then Tim saw you and everything changed.  

Now, Tim was making Joel’s fist clench and his stomach tighten because he was making you laugh. You were in your swimsuit, one that made Joel want to touch every goddamn inch of you, Ellie in your arms in her little sunhat and you were laughing at something Tim was saying, that fucking smile of yours making his heart ache. That fucking smile holding so much promise when it was made for that guy because smiling at him was different than smiling at Joel.

Because, really, how would he measure up to someone like fucking Tim? The guy who actually made good money, who had bothered to go to college, who didn’t need to wait to accidentally knock someone up to get his shit together. And you obviously had a thing for guys who were older, Tim’s graying hair and casual ease making Joel feel at least a little lacking before let alone now. Of course you’d be interested in him over Joel. Why wouldn’t you be? 

“You alright?” Tommy asked, sidling up to Joel by the grill. 

“Fine,” Joel muttered, still watching you. Tim held his arms out and you passed him Ellie before reaching to grab a can of White Claw from the cooler next to you, smiling and cooing at Tim and Ellie as you did. Joel ground his teeth. 

“You sure?” Tommy said. “Because think that burger would disagree.” 

Joel frowned, looking down to find the patty on the corner of the grill smoking, the dripping fat from the meat making the fire flare up below it. 

“Shit,” he swore, quickly sliding the spatula below the burger and moving it away from the flames. 

“That one’s yours,” Tommy teased, taking a sip of his beer and looking out toward the pool. 

“Yeah, yeah,” Joel said, taking stock of the rest of the grill to make sure nothing else was on fire. 

“Goldie’s lookin’ good,” Tommy said after a moment. 

Joel’s grip on the spatula got tight. 

“Guess so,” he said. “I see her every day so… wouldn’t know.” 

“Oh I think you know,” Tommy said. “Looks like she’s gettin’ awful cozy with that guy over there.” 

“Hadn’t noticed.” 

“Really?” Tommy said, brows raised. “Guess you were… what, starin’ at the fence behind ‘em then?” 

“Fuck off, Tommy.” 

“I’m just sayin’,” he said. “Like to think I know you pretty well seeing as you’re my brother and all. Just calling it like I see it. Calling it like I’ve been seein’ it for 20 years.” 

“Well, you’ve been seeing wrong,” Joel said. 

“Don’t think that’s it,” Tommy said. Joel opened his mouth to argue but Tommy didn’t give him the chance. “Look, if you really want to sit on your ass about it forever, that’s on you. I’m just saying that it sure seems like now is a damn good time to work your shit out with her. Either that or decide to just be a miserable asshole forever because you’re stubborn. No skin off my back.” 

“You, what, think you know everything because you’ve found a woman who will stick around?” Joel snapped, fighting to keep his voice low. “You’ve been in a relationship for five goddamn minutes, don’t sit there and…” 

“Hey guys,” you walked over, smiling, Tim still at your side with Ellie in his arms. “ETA on burgers? Think I should go get all the condiments set out?”

“Not a bad idea,” Joel said, fighting to keep his voice even. 

“Want help?” Tim asked. 

“If you can just keep holding the wriggly one, that would be amazing,” you smiled, touching his arm. His fucking arm. You looked back to Joel. “I’ll get everything set out… Are you OK?” 

“Fine,” he said through clenched teeth. “Why?” 

“If you say so,” you said, turning back to Ellie. “You be good, squrimy wormy.” 

“She’ll be an angel,” Tim smiled. “Don’t even worry about it.” 

Joel and Tim both watched you go inside, Joel struggling not to think about the sway of your hips below the gauzy wrap you’d tied around your middle like a skirt. 

“Kids seem to be having a great time,” Tim said, looking out toward the pool. “I know Lucy’s been talkin’ about nothing else all week. Kid was born in December but I can already tell she’s going to be begging me for a pool party for her birthday all the same.” 

“Glad I was able to pull it off for Sarah,” Joel said, looking determinedly at the grill. 

“Well, you had help,” Tommy said and Joel shot him a glare. He pressed on like nothing had happened. “Sure it’s a lot easier when you’ve got your best friend there pitchin’ in…” 

“Yeah, she was saying you two have been putting this together for a few weeks. If you don’t mind my asking,” Tim said, leaning closer to Joel and angling Ellie away from the heat of the grill. “What’s… what’s goin’ on there? Are you two…” 

“Nope,” Joel cut him off. “Just… we’re just friends.” 

“Cool,” Tim nodded slowly, looking toward the house as you carried plates of burger toppings out to a table covered in a purple tablecloth. “Because damn if she isn’t something.” 

“See, that’s what I’ve been sayin’,” Tommy said, giving Joel a look. Joel just glared back. 

Tim wasn’t looking their way, his eyes glued on you. 

“I still can’t believe she wrote that book,” he said, sounding a little awed. “I still think it’s the best thing I’ve ever read. Must have been a hell of a trip to read that already knowing her.” 

Joel was quiet, just flipping the burgers and taking a drink of beer. 

“What was that like?” Tim asked when Joel had been quiet too long. 

He glanced up at him, the annoyingly perfect fucking image of him holding Ellie while looking like the exact kind of person you’d go for making him hold his beer bottle a little too tight. 

“Wouldn’t know,” Joel said, looking back down at the grill. “Haven’t read it. Don’t read much.” 

“Oh,” Tim said, sounding surprised. “Well, you should. It’s amazing. She’s…” 

“Something,” Joel cut him off, knowing he probably sounded like a dick but not caring enough to stop it. “You said.” 

“Thank you for that,” you said, walking up and wiping crumbs from burger buns on your hands on your swimsuit. “Way easier when I’m not holding an infant but I’ll take her back now. Hi baby girl! Were you so good?” 

“She was a dream,” Tim said, putting Ellie in your arms. “Makin’ me wish I had another one.” 

“It’s the cuteness,” you said, smiling a little before looking down at your niece, letting her wrap her tiny hand around your thumb. You nuzzled into her head and kissed her. “She’s tricky that way.” 

“Might be,” Tim smiled, watching you with the baby. “But still, real hard not to miss it. Wouldn’t mind having another one.” 

“Yeah?” You asked, looking up at him with raised brows, holding Ellie against you. 

“With the right person,” he smiled a little and if Joel had to watch this shit any longer he was sure he was going to break something. 

“Alright, burgers are up!” He yelled toward the pool, ignoring the fact that Tim was standing close enough that he flinched. 

Joel hung back as the kids clambered out of the water until everyone had a burger and you found him, a slight frown on your face. 

“Are you sure you’re OK?” You asked. “Because if this is about earlier at the store…” 

“Don’t they teach you smart college types that doing the same thing over and over don’t get you different results?” He snapped. “Stop asking.” 

“Sorry,” you said, sounding hurt which made Joel’s jaw tighten. “Just try not to miss out on the good shit from today because of… whatever that is.” 

You didn’t wait for him to respond, you just went to find fucking Tim, that hurt look melting off your face when he said something that made you smile in that fucking way you had, where you started slow and then it spread so your whole face shined, the way that Joel loved so much. 

Joel stuck close to Tommy and his new girlfriend, Maria, for the rest of the party, trying to focus on Sarah and how she really was so fucking happy. He tried to ignore you. He tried to ignore the side eye from Tommy and the way you were looking at fucking Tim like he hung the goddamn moon. He tried not to think about the fact that, soon, you and Ellie would be leaving and this semblance of a family that he’d fallen into wouldn’t exist anymore. It would go back to the way it was before, just him and Sarah, and you’d go off and live your own damn life with Tim or someone like him. 

The frustrating thing was, it wouldn’t be so bad if he didn’t know what he’d be missing. When it was you and fucking Brad at least, Joel didn’t know any better. He didn’t know how good it could be with you. He didn’t know what he didn’t have. Now it would always be there, hanging over him, covering his memory of this time with this bitter patina that he couldn’t shake. 

Tommy and Maria and fucking Tim stayed after the party wound down and helped clean up, you putting Ellie in her bouncer as you laughed at something he said. Things were back to normal - or close to it, a cake with a purple frosting border only half eaten on the kitchen counter and a few bags of trash by the door waiting to go into the big bin in the garage - in no time at all, something Joel was thankful for because that meant that Tim would probably leave soon. Hopefully. 

“Where did y’all get that cake, anyway?” He asked following you inside as you put a sleeping Ellie in her playpen, Joel just a few steps behind. “It was really good.” 

“H-E-B,” Joel said even though he knew Tim wasn’t asking him. “Nothin’ crazy.” 

“Thanks,” Tim smiled over his shoulder toward Joel before looking back to you. “It was good. Really.” 

“There’s tons of extra,” you said. “Want to take some home? Lord knows I don’t need it and if Sarah eats it all we’ll never see the end of the sugar high.” 

As if to prove a point, Sarah and Lucy, Tim’s daughter, shrieked in glee over something in the back yard. 

“That’d be great,” Tim said. “Sure Lucy’ll enjoy it.” 

“I’ll wrap some up for you,” you smiled, leading the way to the kitchen. 

“Try not to break your jaw clenching it like that, brother,” Tommy clapped him on the shoulder. Joel glared at him. “We’re gonna head out.” 

“You know where to find the door,” Joel said. 

“Know where to find your attitude, too,” he replied. “Try not to screw yourself over here, Joel.” Tommy left before he had a chance to argue, his arm around Maria’s shoulders as he led her to his truck. 

But Joel, for a change, decided to actually take his brother’s advice. He didn’t want to screw himself over. He wasn’t ready to lose this with you, not yet. 

He went to the kitchen to find you standing next to the cake, your body angled toward Tim’s, closer to him than Joel was happy about. 

“So I’ll call you,” he was saying, a crooked smile on his face. 

“Sounds good,” you smiled back, handing him his phone. “It might be a bit, a lot going on right now, but…” 

“I can wait,” he said. “Something about good things coming to those who do…” 

Joel cleared his throat and you almost jumped away from Tim, eyes a little wide, almost like Joel was your dad and you were in trouble. 

“Get what you needed?” Joel asked, brows raised, hands shoved in his pockets. 

“Think so,” Tim said, pocketing his phone and picking up a plate loaded with cake and covered in plastic wrap.”Thanks for having us, it was a great party.” 

“Thanks for comin’,” Joel said, wishing he’d just get through the niceties and get the fuck out of his house. “Know Sarah liked having Lucy here.” 

“Lucy had a great time, too,” he said before turning back to you. “Think we’ll get outta your hair but… talk to you soon?” 

“Yeah,” you smiled. “Looking forward to it.” 

Joel walked Lucy and Tim out to their car, Tim handing his daughter the plate with the cake before turning back to Joel. 

“Look,” he said, all polite pretense gone from his voice. “I feel like I did something in the wrong here and I don’t want to try to steal another man’s girl…” 

“She say we were together?” Joel asked, brows raised. 

“No, but…” 

“Then there you go,” Joel said, a little to harshly. 

“Well then I must have done something else,” Tim said. “If it’s just that you’re protective of your friend, trust me, I meant it when I said she’s somethin’ because she is. I don’t know if it’ll work out but I’m not gonna hurt her.” 

Joel clenched his jaw, trying not to picture someone else touching you the way he did, someone else pulling the little sounds of pleasure from your lips the way he did, loving you the way he did. Just the passing thought made his stomach turn, his blood hot. He wanted to tell Tim to back the fuck off because you belonged with him. But he couldn’t do that. Because it wasn’t true.

“Good to see you,” Joel said instead. “Drive safe.” 

He didn’t wait to see them leave the driveway. Instead, he went to find you. Because maybe you didn’t belong with him, maybe you couldn’t be his in the way he wanted but goddammit if there wasn’t something in him you apparently wanted. You wanted it enough to be his friend, to ask for his help, to fuck him when you didn’t have another option. There was something in him that you thought was worthwhile and there had to be some way to make you remember that.

Joel stalked back inside to find you reorganizing the fridge, Ellie asleep in her playpen in the living room. You glanced his way as you put a plate of leftover burgers back in the fridge. 

“Sarah’s showering,” you said. “But then she wants to open presents and asked if we could watch a movie after, I told her that should be fine but…” 

Joel didn’t give you a chance to finish. Instead, he grabbed you, rougher than he should have but he couldn’t bring himself to care, pulling you away from the fridge with a surprised but quiet yelp as he pressed your back against the wall. He forced his knee between your thighs and pulled your mouth to his as he kissed you, harsh and sharp, devouring you and your needy little sounds. His hand tightened on your chin, holding you still so he could press tongue into your mouth, his other hand grabbing your thigh and hitching it over his leg, opening you to him. 

He shoved the gusset of your swimsuit aside and thrust two fingers inside you, your tight heat wet and welcoming and he didn’t ease his way to that soft, sensitive place deep in you. Instead, he pressed in hard, his palm against your clit before he pulled his mouth from yours, everything wet and messy. 

“Joel,” your eyes were wide, searching his. “What…” 

“You think he can do this to you?” He rutted his cock against your hip. “Think he can make you come like I do?” 

“Sarah’s home,” you whispered, your panting shifting to a moan as he pressed harder on your clit. “Fuck, Joel, you can’t just…” 

“I can hear the shower,” he said harshly. “Answer the question. You think he can make you feel like this?” 

To prove his point, he added another finger, stretching your tightening walls and making you gasp, fingers scrambling against his shoulder as you looked down to the place he was entering you. His own come from the morning was sliding over his skin and he was almost pissed about that, that you’d even look at another man while you were still full of him. 

“I…” you looked back at him, pupils blown, lips shiny with his spit and yours from when he kissed you. “I… I don’t…” 

“Think that fuckin’ guy can fuck you like I can?” He asked. “Think he can make you feel like I do? He can’t and he fuckin’ won’t.” 

You moaned, desperate and uncontrolled and buried your face where Joel’s shoulder met his neck. His cock ached in his swim trunks, leaking and angry and he rutted it against you but he knew he wasn’t going to find relief right now. He didn’t care. 

He felt like a man unhinged, the thought of you with someone else, touching someone else, in bed with someone else, loving someone else pushing him on. He couldn’t give you much, he fucking knew that, but there had to be a reason you’d stayed in his bed the last month and he was going to goddamn well make sure you knew it. 

You came then, your pussy throbbing hard around his fingers as you moaned, voice cracking as you did. He stilled inside you, his hold on you easing so that his palm was more cupping your sex than pressing into it, savoring the feeling of your pleasure on his skin as your come soaked him. Your whole body went limp and he had to hold you up as you panted for breath. He eased his fingers out of you more gently than he’d done anything else since he’d started touching you, carefully tugging your swimsuit back into place over your leaking slit. You whimpered against him, sounding fucked out and exhausted. 

Joel carefully adjusted you, holding your face in his hand, your eyes wide and mouth open as you took shaky, uncertain breaths. 

“What was that?” you asked quietly. 

Joel didn’t know how to answer. 

“You OK?” He asked instead. 

Your eyes raked over him, still wide and shocked, and he lowered your leg back to the ground, giving you a chance to stand on your own again. 

“What do you want from me, Joel?” You whispered. 

“Hey Dad?” Sarah yelled from her room. “Do we have more of that hair stuff?” 

His jaw tightened. 

“Go,” you said, reaching around him to hold onto the counter for balance. 

“We’re talkin’ later,” he said, watching you for a moment before going to help Sarah. 

He did his best to focus on his daughter while she opened her presents from her friends, you smiling and taking notes about who got her what so Sarah could write thank you cards, never once looking at Joel and he had this sinking, raw feeling in his stomach that he might have ruined things, actually ruined things this time. You stayed on the opposite end of the couch from him as the three of you watched the Hunger Games, careful to never even brush against him when you got up to get something. So different from every other time the three of you had sat here, you casually leaning your head on his shoulder or touching his leg to get his attention. 

“Thank you, Dad,” Sarah said as he tucked her into bed - something he was sure she was going to start insisting she was too big for any day now. “That was the best party, everyone had such a good time, it was so fun to see everyone!” 

“I’m glad you had fun, baby girl,” he smiled, smoothing her hair back from her face. “I know you’ve been wanting that for a while.” 

“Yeah, but I know you’re busy,” she said. “It’s OK that it took some time.” 

“Well, I should never be too busy for you,” he said. 

“Probably right,” she said, scrunching her nose. Joel laughed. “I love you, Dad.” 

“Love you, too,” he smiled, reaching to turn out her lamp. 

“Oh, tell Aunt Goldie I love her too?” She said. “I forgot to…” 

His heart clenched. 

“Course baby girl,” he said. “I know she loves you, too.” 

“Duh,” she smiled. “I’m the best.” 

Joel laughed. 

“Don’t let it go to your head.” 

He started back toward the living room to find you but stopped when he saw the light on in his bedroom. He paused at the door, wondering if he should knock even though the two of you hadn’t had that pretense in weeks. 

But he just opened it, moving quietly and closing the door silently behind him, finding you emptying the drawers that had become yours in the months you’d lived in his house. 

“What are you doing?” He asked quietly. 

You looked up, your eyes finding his and narrowing. 

“Goldie…” he moved to touch you but you pulled yourself away before he could. 

“Don’t,” you snapped, packing your things into the suitcase that had been tucked away in the space between Joel’s dresser and the wall for so long he’d almost forgotten it was there. 

“Look, I…” he began but you cut him off. 

“What the fuck is your problem?” You asked, all but throwing some shirts into the suitcase. “What was that!” 

He sighed, not able to look at you for a moment. He wasn’t sure how to answer that. What was he supposed to say? Sorry, the thought of losing you to another man made me lose my mind for a minute? Now that you don’t need as much help with your niece I wanted to remind you of the one other thing you seemed to need me for? 

“I…” he broke off. “I’m sorry.” 

“You’re sorry?” You asked, brows raised. “You’re sorry, great. Awesome. What do you want from me, Joel? Do you want me to never date anyone so you can fuck me when you’re bored? Do you think I’m going to just live here forever so I’ll be at your disposal whenever you need to get off?” 

“That ain’t…” 

“I want to be with someone who loves me!” Your voice was thick, wet. “I want a chance at loving someone and I want them to love me, too, and I can’t do this with you, Joel! I can’t upend my entire life because we’re doing whatever this is, I can’t and I don’t want to.” 

His chest got tight and you just shook your head, going to get more out of the drawer to keep packing. 

“Anna is about to come home,” you said. “I was already going to leave soon. I’ll go tomorrow, spend a few days in my own damn house in my own damn bed and then go to her place.” 

“Goldie,” he whispered, stepping close to you, taking your face in his hand. You at least didn’t pull away from him this time. “Just… stay.” 

Your eyes searched his for a moment and, for half a second, he thought you might say yes. 

“I can’t,” you said softly. “I’m sorry.” 

Joel just hoped you couldn’t see the pain in his eyes as you went back to collecting your things to leave him behind yet again. 

Next Chapter

A/N: I really wish I could explain what came over Joel here but I can't I'm sorry I think he possessed me and this is what happened SORRY

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