#reader x gabriel

[ourloveisforthelovely]

To the Ends of the Earth Part 20

Supernatural

Pairings: Gabriel x Reader

Rating: Mature

Summary:  AU Supernatural. Gabriel is tired of Micahel and Raphael’s constant interfering and dictating what’s best for him. Little do they know that he’s been sneaking to earth to fall in love with you. When he convinces you to run away with him, all hell is about to break loose.

Part 19- link

______

Neither Gabriel nor yourself said a word to each other the whole way back to the bunker. When Gabriel turned the car off, he looked at you sympathetically. Your eyes weren’t on him but at the car’s dashboard. He wanted to sight but didn’t. Gabriel wasn’t a fool. You were upset with him and honestly, he couldn’t blame you.

It didn’t take Gabriel being your soulmate to understand your feelings, yet also, be confused by them. You wanted him to be happy about the baby. What expectant mother wouldn’t want the child’s father to be happy? Gabriel understood that, but YOU didn’t understand that he couldn’t. He couldn’t be excited about some extraordinary being in the making that could destroy everything.

There is Jack…he’s good.

The thought came to Gabriel’s mind but he had to push it away too. Jack had to be that one exception. Gabriel wasn’t quite sure that his child would be “that good.”

There was also your safety. Regardless of the fact that Chuck swore to your safety, Gabriel was absolutely and positively terrified! He couldn’t even begin to phantom losing you. No part of his inner being could even think about how his life would be if something happened to you. If Gabriel lost you, he would want to die along with you. Forget raising a child that would scare the crap out of him!

You, meanwhile, hadn’t moved from your spot in the passenger seat by the time Gabriel opened your door for you. For a moment, you didn’t want to move. Sitting in the car and staring at the grey dashboard seemed to be exactly what you needed.

“Y/n…”

Gabriel said your name softly. He held out his hand to help you out of the SUV. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him. After the conversation a few minutes prior, you couldn’t meet your lover’s gaze.

Am I being selfish? Did I even think of him?

These were a few of the thoughts going through your mind that you couldn’t push away. There were also the thoughts of what you “needed” too.

It will be a long nine months if he is going to bitch the whole time. I am going to need some support too…not constant condescending looks and comments…

Swallowing, you got out of the car without taking Gabriel’s hand. You heard Gabriel audibly groan as you walked past him to the entrance to the bunker.

“Y/n, you are going to have to talk to me at some point.”

You stopped and took a few deep breaths before turning to face Gabriel.

“Look, I get you were shocked by all of this. I was shocked too! Floored is more like it but it’s happening Gabriel. We had sex and you got me pregnant. Neither one of us was really planning it but it happened. I don’t know why Chuck does what he does but he paired us for a reason. I’m not giving this baby up nor am I going to regret what happened…because I don’t. You know…I’m feeling a lot of things none of which you seem to understand…hell even I don’t understand all of what I’m feeling. I’m not asking you to be over the moon with what's happening because you were entitled to your feelings too but what I want is some support. You’re supposed to be my soul mate and be on my side.”

Gabriel winced seeing the tears in your eyes. He absolutely hated knowing that he was the one making you cry.

“Y/n, I am on your side. I’m always on your side.”

You wiped your cheeks.

“It doesn’t feel like it. If I am going to spend the next nine months wondering what I am to you while you glare at me…I would rather you just go. You can find someone else to fall in love with.”

Gabriel looked floored by your comment. Did you really think that he would consider leaving? That was the LAST thing that Gabriel could even consider doing. If he left you then you would die. Your blood would be on his hands and he would never be able to live with that.

“I don’t want anyone else to love. I fell in love with you and that is all that I need…”

You turned to walk inside.

“I need some time alone.”

You murmured. Gabriel didn’t move to follow you.

“That’s probably a good idea. I’ll be back later I need to have some time to too.”

When you turned back around, Gabriel was gone. It was as if he had never been standing behind you in the first place.

Why did I say that to him?

You grumbled before turning and walking back into the bunker. Feeling 100% worse than you did before, the prospect of falling into your bed and never moving again seemed like a great idea.

Sam looked up when you came down the steps. He immediately stood up and looked at you with a worried expression.

“Where is Gabriel?”

You couldn’t meet your brother’s gaze for a moment. Looking around the room, you wondered where Dean had made off too. Something told you that you would be having to face his fury very soon too. You definitely needed a heads up on when that would happen. With Gabriel not being there to come in on your behalf, you would have to try to reason with Dean on why going through with the pregnancy was the best option. Something told you that saying “this is what I want” wouldn’t fly with your eldest brother.

“He took off. We had some words and we both need some space. Where’s Dean?”

Sam crossed his arms over his chest. It didn’t take him being your brother to realize how upset you were. Your eyes were like a window to your soul…a window that Sam had to use more than he was really willing to admit to.

“He went on a beer run.”

You nodded. That didn’t surprise you. It also wouldn’t surprise you that you would take up to Dean tearing the place apart in a drunken rage.

“I’m not surprised.”

You replied as Sam pressed his lips together.

“Are you okay, Y/n?”

Your eyes rolled up to your brother. Sam was looking at you with eyes full of concern.

“Did you know that you are the first person in all of this that has asked me that?”

Sam frowned. He mentally made a note to tell Dean and Gabriel both off later. While he understood both men’s reactions, neither really behaved the way that they needed to. Sure, Sam was horrified by the road that you were choosing to take…however, it was your choice. He couldn’t make you elect to have Gabriel take the baby away. Sam couldn’t make you do anything. You were a grown woman and what you chose would be what he would accept. Sam could only pray that Chuck lived up to his end of the bargain and wouldn’t let you die.

“I’m sorry. I can’t make excuses for Dean or Gabriel but you should have been asked about your feelings before. Y/n, I’m not going to pretend that I’m not worried because I’m scared to death. I don’t want to lose you but I respect your decision. I’ll do whatever I can to keep you safe.”

Sam walked over and immediately pulled you into a hug. You closed your eyes and wrapped your arms around your brother. Breathing Sam in, for the first time, you felt somewhat better. Someone was in your corner.

“I wish that Dean and Gabriel could see things that way.”

Sam kissed the top of your head. He made a mental note to let both men have it when they came home.

“I know. Me too. Maybe when the shock wears off, they’ll come to their senses. They both love you so much, Y/n.”

You wanted to nod in agreement but you couldn’t respond. Your better sense of self knew that Sam was right. Both Gabriel and Dean loved you. The less sensible “Mary Sue” side was still in depression over their reactions.

“I hope so. I’m going to go lie down and watch TV.”

Sam slowly let you go. He wanted to talk more but decided now wasn’t the time.

(meanwhile)

Gabriel sat across from Lucifer at a crappy little diner across town. He wasn’t 100% sure why he came to Lucifer but he did. Gabriel sat telling Lucifer everything while his elder brother frowned.

“So you are telling me that pop decided that Ms. Pretty and yourself are having a baby?”

Gabriel raised an eyebrow.

“That’s what I said.”

Lucifer was silent a moment as he considered his words. It was no secret to Lucifer about what Chuck’s plans were when it came to you. Lucifer was baffled when Chuck made the grand scheme to pair his younger brother with a human. As far as Lucifer was concerned, Gabriel was a good enough soldier. Throwing him into the thoroughs of love with a human woman seemed to be a bit of a downgrade.

“I’m sorry. I just needed to make sure that I heard you right and wasn’t imagining things. Wow, you're the one to knock up Ms. Pretty.”

Gabriel frowned, reminding Lucifer of the archangel that Gabriel used to be.

“Would you stop calling her that? Who else would it be? I’m her soulmate after all.”

Lucifer snorted.

“You sound so ancient right now. I don’t pretend to know why pop is doing this. I no longer try to make sense of that. How is Y/n taking it? You are acting as if the world is about to end…or whatever else it is you get upset about. You’ve always had a bit of a temper.”

“Oh, I have a temper do I? Aren’t you Satan?”

Gabriel snapped. Lucifer shook his head before holding a hand up.

“This isn’t about me. This is about you! You are having a baby with a human. Not only is that not good but you are about to have both of our dork brothers on your ass.”

“You have a child too who coincidentally my wife looks after so you are in the wrong as much as me.”

Lucifer laughed at that one.

“As you said, little brother, I am Satan.”

Neither archangel said anything for a moment. Gabriel sat wondering why in the fresh hell he even bothered with Lucifer. All that it seemed to be achieving was upsetting him worse with each passing moment.

“Look, Gabe, you are overreacting. If you want Ms. Pretty…I mean…Y/n to survive…there are ways. Use that grace that pop gave you. You’re her soul mate…keep her safe.”

“You didn’t keep Jack’s mother safe.”

Gabriel replied, earning a scowl from Lucifer.

“We weren’t on good terms. Again, this isn’t about me. What are you going to do about Michael and Raphael? I mean, Raphael is heaven’s glorified gardener. You could leave some plants out and totally distract him. Michael, however, well that won’t be pretty. He is still feeling biblical over Jack.

Gabriel rolled his eyes. It was clear that Lucifer had no idea about Raphael being dead.

“Raphael is dead, so I don’t have to worry about him. As far as Michael, he is the one that I am worried about. That’s why I am here talking to you. I’m sure I can keep my wife safe but two archangels would be better than one. We were close once upon a time. You leaving heaven devastated me whether you care about that fact or not.”

Lucifer leaned back in his chair. He wasn’t a fool. When he left heaven and the few times that Gabriel visited him on earth, he could see right through his younger brother’s “tough guy” façade.

“Let me get this straight, you want me to help you? You are coming to me for help with your problems? Wow, that hasn’t happened in millions of years and I am flattered. However, what does Y/n say about all of this? She really isn’t a pro-Luci person.”

“She doesn’t know.”

Lucifer once again looked surprised.

“You are going to have a hell of a time explaining that one to her. Gabriel, you were always my favorite. You always were and you always will be. I’m willing to help you but I’ll warn you…those Winchesters won’t be happy about it.”

Gabriel took a breath. He was no fool. Gabriel knew that you wouldn’t be happy at all. You hadn’t really forgotten how Lucifer had done your family.

“No, they won’t be but we need all of the help that we can get.”

Lucifer had to agree with that one. While he had no idea what “child rearing” involved (and he really didn’t want to find out), Lucifer knew that Gabriel was in over his head on this one.

“So what happened to Raphael?”

Gabriel chuckled at that one.

“Y/n killed him. Maybe that can be an incentive to not tick her off too much.”

Lucifer blinked a few times.

“I knew that girl had style.”

(a few hours later)

You lay sleeping on the couch. After starting a movie, you quickly fell asleep. All of the drama of the day had finally caught up with you. Your peaceful slumber, however, was interrupted when you felt a pair of arms lift you up.

“What?”

You said sleepily before slowly opening your eyes. Gabriel was carrying you bridal style toward your bedroom.

“It's alright, sugar.”

You snuggled your face against Gabriel’s collarbone and breathed in his scent. For the first time in that horrid day, you felt somewhat better.

Gabriel closed the door with his foot before gently lying you down on the unmade bed. You shoved your face into the pillow until Gabriel snapped the lights out. From his place by the door, he could see the sad expression on your face.

…She is still hurt.

Gabriel rolled his eyes at the rather stupid comment going through his mind. Of course, you were still hurt.

Taking a moment longer, Gabriel slowly got into bed with you.

“Come here, sugar.”

You didn’t hesitate to crawl over into Gabriel’s arms. As much as you wanted to be able to play hard to get, you also wanted to snuggle into your soulmate and never move again. The moment that you were against Gabriel he wrapped his arms around you.

Neither of you spoke a moment. It was Gabriel that spoke first.

“Sugar, about all of this���we really need to talk.”

You sniffed again. Gabriel froze. He once again was afraid that you were about to start crying.

“Y/n, I knew from the moment that I saw you that I loved you more than any being known to angel kind. I know you are angry with me and I don’t blame you. I, however, don’t think that you truly understand how afraid I am.”

Your eyes slowly rolled up to Gabriel.

“You aren’t scared of anything…except spiders.”

Gabriel frowned.

“You did not see the size of that spider! Contrary to your, much-appreciated belief, a lot of things scare me. You scare me. The thought of losing you and me being alone to raise our baby scares me. Y/n, I can’t stop thinking about what if I lose you. I spent millions of years waiting for you and so many more looking after you until we actually met. I don’t want to face the thought of the rest of forever alone.”

You stroked your finger over Gabriel’s chest before throwing a leg over his waist.

“I’m not going to die. We’ll figure this out…somehow. There has to be a spell or something. Cas has this theory about using your grace to get me through labor. We have time to figure something out. As far as Michael is concerned…”

Gabriel took a breath before speaking.

“Michael is the least of my worries right now. Can we not talk about him right? I’m worried about us. Y/n, I’m not mad that you’re pregnant. I suppose something told me that you would end up pregnant at some point anyway. No matter how careful I am there was always the possibility that it could happen.”

You smiled.

“Because once you get inside of me you turn into a needy manwhore?”

You were relieved to hear Gabriel chuckle.

“That is one way of looking at it.”

Gabriel placed his hand over your stomach before moving his fingers over your hipbones. He closed his eyes as the sound of the baby’s heart beating filled his mind. Gabriel took a few deep breaths as a new feeling washed over him. So this was what the paternal protective parent felt like.

I have to be feeling like a father to be willing to go to my brother for help.

Gabriel thought with a frown. He was quickly pulled from his thoughts when your lips closed on his neck.

“What are you doing, sugar?”

You quickly wiggled your way on top of Gabriel, looking down at him with a smirk.

“We should probably enjoy my body looking the way it does now…something tells me that I will look like hell before long.”

Gabriel snapped his fingers turning the lights back on. He was looking at you with a frown.

“You’ll be just as beautiful as you are now. You’re always my beautiful wife.”

“You say that now.”

You replied. Gabriel was quiet a moment before quickly flipping the position so he was on top of you. You gasped as Gabriel’s hands fell to cup your breasts.

“Gabriel, please…”

You whimpered as he rocked his hips against yours. Golden eyes rolled to yours as Gabriel leaned down to lick your bottom lip.

“I’m going to make you feel good. You thought that the sex was good that night in the car. I’m really going to make you come apart now.”

You moaned before reaching between your bodies to palm Gabriel through his jeans. When he groaned, you smiled.

“Let's have at least one good memory from today.”

Gabriel gave you a small smirk before snapping away your clothes. He looked down at your naked form before biting his lips. You looked like a total goddess lying beneath him.

You cried out when Gabriel leaned down to lick and suck at your right nipple while his fingers expertly teased your left. Make-up sex with Gabriel often made your disagreements worth it. From the time that the both of you decided to be together, Gabriel seemed to be perfect at makeup sex. He was perfect at sex in general and it often wowed you. You had been a bit embarrassed to still be a virgin the first time that Gabriel touched you.

“Now sugar, that’s what I love the most. My dick has been the only one inside of you.”

Gabriel said with a cocky smirk as he kissed his way down your body. You bit your lip as heat ran through your belly. With each movement of Gabriel’s lips, the want radiated through your body making your cunt ache with need.

“Something tells me that you are already wet.”

Gabriel said with an innocent hum.

“Yes…so wet…Gabriel, please. I need you inside of me.”

Gabriel chuckled to himself and moved no further to have his way with you. He watched your body withering to meet his mouth. When Gabriel stroked a finger over your folds down to your entrance, you could have come from that alone.

“So I heard that pregnancy hormones make you want sex a lot more.”

Gabriel commented as his golden eyes rolled up to your face. He was pleased to see how surprised you were by that statement. Swallowing, you tried to think logically.

“I’m surprised at you, Gabriel. You are already hearing things correctly.”

Gabriel wiggled his eyebrows at you.

“It's amazing what archangels hear and what information we hold onto. I suppose we will be seeing a lot of this room.”

“Or whatever flat surface I want you to fuck me on.”

You interrupted. Gabriel smirked.

“Anytime that you want it, sugar.”

_______

@amelie-black @jessyballet @knreidy1 @georgeweasleydumbhoe @justfinishthis @acciosiriusblack @siriuslyceleste @coffeeaddictednymph @millies0bsimp @fific7 @rogue-nyx88 @readtomeregulus @starsvck @daddyslittlevillain @panpride @saramaple @f4iryluvy @s-we-e-t-t-ea @taylor-will-be-the-death-of-me @missgorldafirst @buttercup-beeee @padf00ts-l0ver @goldensunshineshit @haroldpotterson @aurorasnape12 @stelleduarte @mentally-unstable-hoe @quinis @jag9000 @gugggu6gvai @yousmellllikecaca @lostarc @un-lovesherself @play-morezeppelin @ravenhood2792 @bennyberry @mimisparkle12 @teletubiswszpilkach @rubyroscoe1 @ad-astra-again @criminalyetminimal @lucasfilms77 @spideyxalmighty @brokencasbutt67-writer @authoressskr @moldy-old-boot @hankypranky @summer-novak @emiwrites3reads @shaylybaby2032 @knight-of-gleefulness @deanwherescas @shitfaceddaniel-blog @sprnaturallover @wontlookaway @li0nh34rt @tas898 @mycuddlycorner @marichromatic @melaninnbarbie

[thewinchestah]

"PREY" - Alastor x reader fic

Pairing: Alastor x Fem!Reader

Tags: One-Shot, 18+, Smut, NSFW, edging, begging, overstimulation, Alastor does what he wants, there's plot if you squint really hard, alastor in heat, breeding kink, degradation kink, praise kink,

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

Word Count: i lost count. it's big.

  | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

A/N: Helloooooo!!! I write a lot but i never publish it! My lovely friend and also biggest inspiration for this fic @smallershorteranduncut ordered me to post this and i'm nothing but her loyal servent! I hope you guys enjoy the fruits of me writing 10 google docs pages today while i was enraged. Also english isn't my first language, no beta we die like men here yadayayfayada! enjoy <;3 (UPDATE!) Part 2 is now up!

-

Everything about the Radio Demon seemed to be designed to make you desire him, want him. Many times in ways you weren’t even ready to admit to yourself. You haven’t been in Hell long, that’s true. But ever since you manifested here you felt like someone had picked your brain open to make Alastor the perfect bait to lure you into even more sinful, sinister paths. 

He had an inexplicable magnetism around him, a piercing presence that made your eyes stuck on him when he worked a room. He had you bewitched and you hadn’t share more than polite pleasantries with each other since you became a guest at the hotel.

Today, again, you were transfixed in his gaze. Sitting in the corner of the hotel lobby, trying to make your embarrassing attraction to him go unnoticed while Alastor waltzed across the room explaining more of his wicked plans to Charlie. God, how you wish he had his wicked way with you. 

He seemed more… on edge today. His red eyes  glowed a little brighter, his nostrils flared a bit more, static filling the room more often, he was smiling with almost barred teeth, and everyone seemed to be avoiding him. Even Charlie was trying to politely dismiss him, the general feeling of uneasiness inside the hotel  just growing larger when Angel stationed himself near your little corner of the room. 

“Don’t go near that creepy motherfucker today, he’s about to lose it.”  Angel alerted, almost whispering, a pair of his hands making the “crazy sign” near his head 

“Isn’t he always creepy and about to lose it?” Husk added, staring at the exchange between the radio demon and Charlie.

“I’m telling you toots, I know that guy definitely isn't normal, but today he is borderline a mass extinction event. I swear, he’s just waiting for someone to give him the excuse” Angel replied, confirming your suspicions. Something was off.

“Uh. Well, about that, I think it’s time we rescue Charlie” 

As if on cue Charlie turned to the corner of the room, gesticulating really hard to be taken away from the small commotion her conversation with Alastor was becoming. 

“Hey Charlie, do you remember that thing with the hotel’s… personalized stationery you asked me to help you today? Let’s do it!” Said angel gently guiding Charlie away from the Radio Demon.

“Guess that’s my cue Alastor! Greaaaaat chat! As always! Have a nice day!! Byeee!” Charlie’s overly chirpy tone giving away her uneasiness. 

Suddenly it felt like all the air was taken out of the room. Alastor’s neck turned into an ungodly angle, his eyes narrowing in suspicion. Static grew around the group, almost suffocating. As your vision went blurry from the sheer power that was being evoked, you contemplated if there was another afterlife. Preferably one where you didn’t inherit a death wish from your previous ones.

And as quick as it started, it was over. 

Alastor just said a creepy “hm” turned on his hell, and walked away. 

It almost felt like it was all in your head, but your friends standing perfectly still and dead silent next to you gave the reality of the situation away: everyone just had a near death-death experience. Maybe it would be a good topic for Charlie’s bonding exercises, who knows with this place. 

“I told ya’ll. Mass. Extinction. Event. Stay out the psycho’s way”

Angel’s voice became background noise in your head, your eyes focusing on the spot where Alastor just threatened everybody’s life without saying a word. As the voices dissipated around you and normalcy slowly returned to the hotel, your mind sank deeper and deeper into the mystery that was the Radio Demon. 

-

They were so oblivious, so naive. Thinking he wasn’t listening what they said about him behind his back. Thinking he was unaware of him being the topic of the discussion when he wasn’t looking. He could bathe in the smell of their fear, and he was relishing it. 

Alastor stared at the new pretty little thing that arrived at the hotel. Oh how pathetically sweet and innocent she was, thinking she was being subtle about her infatuation with him. Thinking she could hide her interest in him, when she was nothing but a doe caught in the headlights of his eyes. Oh, she was just the perfect prey for him, wrapped in this lovely red bow she wore on her hair. 

Angel was right, he was just waiting for an excuse, and she just offered him one on a silver platter. And alastor was everything but a coward. 

-

You cursed a little bit louder than you intended when you saw the blood dripping from your finger. “Stop. making. a. spectacle. of. yourself” you mentally screamed. You still could not figure Charlie’s “special stationary stapler” out, so stapling your finger was bound to happen. 

Even though it was not much, the silly little cut was stinging like a bitch, and your best efforts to stop the bleeding were futile, considering the mess on the hem of your skirt. Still high on the adrenaline from earlier, your shaking hands searched for something, anything to put on your finger so you could continue your work without anyone noticing. Everyone already had enough for one day, it was fine. 

“My dear, did you just hurt yourself?” Alastor’s voice invaded your ears. Oh, fuck. That’s it, he was going to murder you for being so incompetent with the damned stapler.

Turning to face him, you meet his piercing gaze, not sure if you should run and scream for help. “Oh no worries alastor, it’s just a small cut, i can manage!” you give him your most confident smile. 

Alastor’s head tilts, eyes burning red as he watches the small droplets of your blood make their way down your index finger.  

“Nonsense, I can't have my staff running around with injuries and bloodied clothes. We are in hell, but we are not savages, dear” He seems transfixed by the blood, and you are too scared to move, too scared to anything other than hold the weight of his gaze and hope for the best. Your lizard brain is screaming for you to run, ask for help. Maybe Charlie isn’t too far away, could you make a run for it? Somehow your survival instincts override your brain, maybe all those hours watching true crime back on earth weren’t in vain, and you decide against running. Let him initiate first. 

He catches your wrist, trapping it inside his deadly claws. His face, towering over you, comes all the way down to inspect the offending finger. You can feel his breathing on your skin. 

Your breathing stops. You swallow an imaginary lump. He’s gonna bite off your fing-

“Would you be a doll and let me take care of it? Blood being unnecessary wasted truly abhors me” 

You must have said yes at some point, you don’t really remember, now you are holding the red handkerchief he handed  you, answering his request to “please follow him”. Trailing behind the Radio Demon, both of you walk through the large corridors. 

This might be the time to scream for help. the voices inside your head warn. With every step of his feet you hear his microphone going tsk tsk tsk where it touches the ground. You are walking the death row, the paintings on the wall chanting “dead woman walking, dead woman walking”. 

“Keep pressuring the wound darling, we are almost there” he gently commands you, too gently… it feels almost… soft, pleading. The way Alastor goes from 0 to 100 is giving you whiplash. 

He slows down, reaching for the door knob of an unknown room. Ever the gentleman, he gestures for you to enter first.

the door locks behind you.

 if i’m being murdered, at least i’m being murdered with class. 

“Don’t be silly, I’m not going to murder you” Alastor says, almost singing the last part of the sentence. 

“Oh fuck, i said that out loud, didn’t I?” you blurted out 

“Yes you did. And yes, I also noticed your lovely doe eyes on me every time i’m in the room” 

Your brain short circuits. That 's it. You are dead. He’s not going to murder you (apparently), but you are going to die of embarrassment. It will feel like murder. He knows, fuck, he knows. He knows about your crush (?) and he’s going to drag you for it. You are going to be so dragged the angels will pity you and bring you to heaven. A creative way to be redeemed, Charlie should know about this. Your thoughts are going downhill as a big snowball, there are too many of them and you can’t follow a single coherent train of thought. You don’t even want to know how you look in the middle of this. You must look pathetic, truly like a doe caught in headlights. And then you hear your name once.

Twice now, in a sing-song voice.

Your eyes fly open towards the sound, breaking from the anxiety induced spell as you realize the Radio Demon had just called you, by name. He knows your name???

“Ah hahah! You’re back.” Alastor says, as he starts to circle you like a predator. Your eyes, as always, follow his across the room.

 “I don’t like to repeat myself, little doe. You heard what I asked?” 

Again, you don’t really remember answering, your brain is going AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA as you watch him pace around you, eyes burning red, demanding your attention. Teeth slightly barred, voice on the edge of something. Was that “X” on his forehead always there?

“I asked if you know what you are doing to me” static fills the room as he finishes speaking. Alastor’s clawed hand trapped your bloodied finger dangerously close to his grinning lips. Your brain is doing flips as he stares deep into your soul, and when your thoughts land you make the connection. Alastor is horny. Alastor is horny for y-

“You see, little doe, I know what your eyes hide when you desperately lower them everytime I come near you. I know how you feel you can hide in plain sight if you stay quiet enough. But I can taste it. Your fear. Your lust. In the air. In your blood.” He has a white knuckled grip on your wrist now, same with his microphone. You lower your guard, eyes going from startled to lustful. “Good thing right now there’s nothing more i want in this godforsaken pit than your lust, pet”

You want this. There’s no point in lying to yourself. You want Alastor to fuck you. You’ve fantasized about the Radio Demon taking you more times than you can count. More times than you would like to admit to yourself. This feels deeply wrong, but you crave it. 

Fuck it, you are in hell, there’s nothing to lose. Alastor is still watching you, impatiently. For the first time today you realize you actually forgot to say something. He’s waiting. Alastor is waiting for your permission. 

“Take my breath away, Alastor” 

Your permission might have been really loud, it felt like you were screaming the words. But you can’t be sure, it might have been a whisper. Either way he didn’t miss it, what happens next is fast, angry and delicious. 

Alastor pounces and licks the blood on your finger, something clicks inside him as he tastes the red liquid, because he lets go of his microphone instantly and his arms grab your waist aggressively, so forceful you wouldn’t be surprised if it breaks skin. You shouldn’t be so turned on by this, by the sight of a psychopathic demon drinking your blood. But you are, and there’s no going back. 

“Strip” he orders. You want to say to him that you can’t take your clothes off your person with him holding you like this. He must have realized the conundrum: if he wants you naked, he has to let go of you. To Alastor, letting go of you right now is simply unthinkable. So he doesn’t: you feel his claws cut the bodice of your dress open, sending the most delicious shivers down your spine. Another claw rips your skirt apart, and you are almost fully naked in the Radio Demon’s arms, pressing your body hard on his still impeccable dressed body.

It’s humiliating, it’s dangerous, it’s hot, it is delicious, to be at his complete mercy, just how you always wanted.

Somehow both of you made your way close to the enormous bed in the middle of the room. Alastor cornered you, so the only way you could escape was walking backwards towards the bed. The brilliant bastard. 

You feel your calves hitting the edge of the bed, and Alastor breaks away.

 Pity, your mind complains. Get him back to touching you again. right. now,.

“Now now, we should establish some rules for this, pet” Alastor’s hands might have stopped touching you, but his piercing eyes never did. He knocks you on top of the bed, you lay there sprawled open just for him. His hands move up to do a quick work of his bowtie

“Rule one: you will take what I give you. Nothing more, nothing less. What I give you is enough. You might feel like you can’t take anymore, but you can. You will take it, I will make you take it” He takes his tailcoat off, his frame towering over you, even with your body completely flat on the mattress and his in front of it. 

“ Rule two: every ounce of your pleasure is mine and mine only. Mine to give, mine to take. And you will give me everything. I want to hear every sound, to feel every touch, to know every nasty thought that runs inside that pretty little head of yours. You will not suppress anything, I wanna hear your moans when you make a mess of yourself as I take everything I desire from your delicious body. I will relish on your desperate screams of pleasure.Nothing outside these walls matter” He is climbing on the bed now. You hold the weight of his gaze, underneath your demonic lover’s eyes your skin burns.

“Rule three: don’t you dare cum without my permission, good girls earn their orgasms and you will be a good girl. Or else…” static starts to pick up around the room, you are seeing the blackest black that ever was, his shadows enveloping you both. Nothing outside these walls matter. “Understood?” Alastor says as he pins your hands on top of your head, against the fancy headboard. His hand cups one of your boobs and he is worrying your nipple between his sharp claws. finally finally, your mind sings. You feel a surge of magic binding your wrists in green chains, attached to the headboard. It’s overbearing, it’s ridiculous. His magic feels like him, another part of him for you to take.

He pinches your nipple particularly hard and you moan softly, pleasure and pain consuming any other sensation. You forgot to answer him, you realize. You’ve barely started and you are already being bad. “yes alastor, yes.. but please don’t stop” the soft whimper leaves your lips.

“lovely.” he replies, and with that his mouth is on your nipple, sucking it while he administers his wicked ministrations to your other one. His sharp teeth prickling on the edge of breaking skin, and you already feel like you won’t be able to take all of him. 

His hand trails down to aggressively grip your thighs, his tongue sucking the neglected nipple his fingers left. Your moans become frequent and messy, if he’s already making you go insane with the beginnings of foreplay... You might pass out and die when he starts fucking you, but you don’t care. Let him show you the true meaning of la petite mort.

“My my, what do we have here” his hand leaves your thigh to trace the wetness of your panties. A clawed finger rips it apart, the last barrier between you and total consumption by the Radio Demon. He takes the finger between your glistening lips, not entering, just teasing 

“I don’t think i will get enough of this pretty little body of ours anytime soon, pet” he says as his finger finally enters your sex, He moves his digit with an expertise you didn’t really know he had in him,  making you whimper his name, ooohs and aaaahs, your hips start threshing from the pleasure. If you continue at this pace, you will be  begging for permission to cum too soon. Pathetic. you think to yourself. Because you know how hard this building orgasm will be,you don’t know if he will grant you more than one orgasm. And will you murder you yourself if you don’t feel his cock inside you tonight. You take a deep breath in between your moans and will your hips to stay in place, your nerves to calm down. 

Alastor adds another finger, and it takes all of your willpower not to become a puddle of wetness right there. You bite your lip so hard you taste blood. 

“you do make a mess of yourself, don’t you? you just can’t help it” he says as he curls his digits inside you. Your hips start thrashing hard again, and you sink them deeper into the bed. The chains on your wrists shake with the effort to hold back. As if alastor wasn’t going to notice. “no no no what did I say?” he snaps angrily, he’s eyes flash red at you and he takes his fingers out with a wet “pop”, you feel like crying at the emptiness. “please please alastor, don’t stop” you plead. His hands leave you entirely, you are left with just his piercing gaze, the one that makes your skin burn. “did I say you could hold back? don’t pretend like you aren’t a common whore for me, that you love how pathetic it feels that you are creaming yourself and we haven’t even really started” 

his condescending tone just makes everything even more sublime. It’s so wrong how good being told you are nothing more than a common whore by the Radio Demon feels. But you never felt anything close to this. “please Alastor” you beg again, nothing but a small whisper

“I would love to taste this pussy, so red already for me, but since you broke one of the rules… i’m afraid I will make you understand that are nothing but my pretty cockslut the hard way” 

Punishment? His punishment sounds ever better than his praise right now. You moan at his voice. He laughs. 

His knees cage you, as he lifts his upper body from you and starts undoing his zipper. He is taking his cock out. Oh fuck, he’s gonna fuck you without anymore foreplay. And he’s not going to be gentle about it either. You shiver. 

Alastor pumps himself a few times, his cock is big, thick, and an angry red shade, flush red like that, because of you, just for you. He’s gonna make you pay: pay for holding back from him, pay for making him feel like an animal and almost losing his hard constructed control. 

The look on his face says it all, he’s gonna take it out on you and you can’t do nothing about it.

You don’t have much time to think about the repercussions, in one swift motion his tip is already inside you, stretching you deliciously. Your brain short circuits again, the feeling of his cock inside you is everything you imagine and more. Depraved, heavenly, delicious. You struggle in your binds again, you want desperately to touch him. To feel his skin beneath your finger, to scratch him, mark him. But oh well, he’s the Radio Demon, he’s the one in charge and you are his prey.

Alastor starts to slowly enter you, he’s trying his best to hold back. He knows if he does this too fast it will hurt in a way he doesn’t want you to feel. And by the look on his face going slow is as torturous for him as it is for you. tantalizing inch after tantalizing inch he spreads the walls of your cunt apart. You understand now why this is punishment, it hurts in a perfect way, it hurts even more that he is doing it slowly, and not just thrusting like you imagined  he would, if he had more time to work on you. 

You become a mess of moans and incoherent words. His cock is halfway inside you now “HoLY FUCK ALASTOR” you scream. It’s already too much. 

“There’s nothing holy about this my dear. I’m going to breed you. I’m going to break you” and with that he buries himself to the hilt inside you. Now you truly scream in pleasure and pain “you won’t be able to walk straight for days, you will feel me in every step, and you will thank me for it”. His thrusts pick up at breakneck speed, the bed shakes from the sheer force that Alastor is using to fuck you. Every snap of his hips you moan more and more. 

The sound you make when he takes everything out and enters you at once is so obscene that it would make Angel Dust blush. He’s growling now, his antlers growing bigger as he fucks you like his life dependend on it. As he fucks you like he hates you. 

Alastor pushes your hips higher, and suddenly he’s even deeper. His other hand holding your waist in a bruising grip. The strain on your pinned hands will bruise too. His lips graze the skin of your collarbone, he looks so feral you are scared he will maul, the thrill of not knowing adding to your fucked up sense of pleasure. 

He seems to pick up on your fear, and bites down on your collarbone, hauling as he tastes your blood and buries himself inside you again and again. Moans turned into screams, and the only thing coming out of your lips is his name, spoken like a profane prayer. You would give everything you have to Alastor, and he doesn’t even have to ask.

Your orgasm has been building for a while now, the coil on your belly becoming tighter and tighter, like a supernova about to be born. “Alastor, please please let me come” you beg. His unfocused eyes stare down at you, as he takes a moment from feasting on your sweet blood to address your desperate, sweet pleas.

“Don’t. You. Dare” he says, punctuating every word with a sharp thrust. As much as you want, you are not sure you will be able to hold any longer. “I beg you alastor, please let me cum, i will let you do anything you want. but i need it so badly, please please”

You sounded so desperate when you begged, so beautiful.

“Don’t strike deals you don’t know you can fulfill, pet” his voice is low, a warning. You ignore it. “I promise Alastor, anything”. Alastor laughs.

 his finger touches your clit as he finally allows your sweet relief “you may come now, sweet doe” and that’s it, you are off, you are dead. You see stars, you see the entire universe as you scream out and climax. Walls tightening around Alastor’s monster cock, eyes rowling, his name a scream on your lips. You ride out your wave slowly, but Alastor is not slowing down.

Instead he is picking up his pace, maneuvering your hips even higher, your chains are stretched to the limit. You can feel them start piercing your skin. Thrust after thrust the sensation becomes too much, you are too overstimulated to go through all of this again.

“i can’t take it, i can’t take it!”

Alastor doesn’t care. “I told you not to make deals if you can’t hold them, didn’t I?” You don’t answer, you can’t. you can’t to anything but let him fuck you as hard and as much as he want. “but you are such a little cockslut for me that you can’t help it. What a shame” 

He is gripping your hips so hard it breaks skin, tiny trails of blood on his claws. “you will take it. You better take it, or I will make you take it” static picks up as he threatens the last words. You know you are spent, you know how bad it hurts, you know how bad his words sound, but the lines between pleasure and pain are so blurred that you can’t think coherently. Even this  pain of being broken feels good. 

Still, tears fill your eyes and you start crying, from pleasure, from pain, you don’t know anymore. What Alastor is doing to you has no precedent. No one can do this like he does. He knows torture too well, and he is tortouring you in the most decadent, delicious ways possible. “alastor i want to, i want to so bad but i just can’t” the tears sting your eyes and stain your face. 

Alastor sees it. He slows down just a bit, his voice softening “oh my dear doe, but you can. Just this once more, just for me. One more” his voice is so maddening soft it acts like fuel to your tears. Your skin tingles and you feel giddy, somehow your throbbing hot, wet cunt seems to find the right amount of relief, and you can feel only pleasure again.

Alastor continues to fuck you, your moans returning to normal, you are being so loud now, making a mess of yourself, just like he said, and a big hand comes to cover your mouth. 

“Oh we can’t have you being this loud can we?” his voice goes to that delicious mocking tone. His thrusts are slower now, but as deep as they can go. “what would you friends say if they found out that you moan like a common whore for their feared radio demon.. hum,.?”

You start to feel the pit of your belly tightening again, and alastor doesn’t stop humiliating you. The degradation feels just the right amount of perfection. You are exactly what he says you are. A common whore when it comes to him. “weren’t you ashamed just a few moments ago? trying to hold back the sinful sounds you make when I touch you? I already gave you one orgasm. I’ve been way too generous for my liking. I should stop right now since you feel so conscious about this”  Alator’s breathing is becoming erratic, his thrusts sharp, hard, and out of the breakneck rhythm he was torturing you before.You start moaning even louder through his hand. “ungrateful little pet. You are just so greedy for one more orgasm, you don’t even care that everyone downstairs can hear you hm??”

You can’t think straight. you feel on the edge of glory, this orgasm threatening to be harder than your previous one, as if it is possible. “alastor i’m so sorry, i know i don’t deserve it” you muffle behind his hand, he hears you speaking and takes if off “but can you please let me cum? just this once? just for you. Please Al” his thrusts are truly erratic now. He’s close too, even though you are too wrapped up on your own sensations to notice 

“please” you beg, nothing more than a whisper. Already making peace with the fact that you are going to come without his permission and he will probably never fuck you again

“Good girl, you can come now”

instantly as you are granted his permissions your world explodes, blinding hot pleasure takes over your body, the waves of pleasure making your heart beat so fast you feel like it’s going to stop. The petit mort is coming, and her sweet embrace envelops you, specially now that you feel Alastor’s cock twitching and spilling his seed inside you. You scream his name. Maybe you hear him screaming yours too. You don’t know anymore, your nerves are singing from pleasure unheard of back  when you were alive. Pleasure so great it could only be found in hell. The most heavily, depraved way of torture. 

You come down from your high, still dizzy, your body going limp. You are not dead, but you are positively spent. You give in into the warm and fuzziness of sleep. 

The last thing you remember is the softness of a blanket, a gentle kiss on your cheek.

“Oh my dear, I knew you had one more on you,spending yourself this way just for me! What a truly precious thing, doe”

You might be dreaming now.

-

You weren’t dreaming. Alastor praises you, knowing his words will be the last thing you hear before a night of peaceful, deep dreamless slumber. He makes sure to put the softest velvet blanket he owns on your body, not to make the damage you gladly allowed your body to take for him an inconvenience. Tomorrow you will wake up to fancy letters of praise and sweet chocolate covered strawberries. And no one will know how Alastor found the perfect doe to breed as he pleases during the height of his mating season.

[happy74827]

Butterflies

[Harvey Specter x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: You know you’re screwed when you feel them fluttering in your chest {GIF Creds: jeysuso}.

WC: 717

Category: Fluff

For all my Harvey lovers out there, I made a cute fluffy quickie (I’m seeing a lot of my fics being swarmed with love so why not add to it 🤗)

『••✎••』

It happened over a bottle of bourbon. A spilled bottle, actually. But a bottle of bourbon nonetheless, and that is important to note.

You didn’t mean to spill the alcohol all over your date, but he had made some comment about how you shouldn't be wearing a dress with a plunging neckline, so you just… happened to tip the entire thing over him.

The man was furious, of course, but he left pretty quickly after that. And you were left with a mess on the floor and a waiter hovering at the side, asking if you wanted another bottle.

You told him no. You just wanted to go home.

You didn't want a new date; you didn't want to sit at this stupid table with the stupid white tablecloth, the stupid, gaudy candlesticks, or the stupid waiter with the stupid, expectant look on his face.

"Miss?"

"No, thank you," you say, a little more firmly, gathering up your things and leaving as much cash as you can on the table. If you were smart, you'd have brought an umbrella, but you're not smart, so you'll just get drenched like an idiot.

But, fortunately for you, the person calling your name knew you well enough to know you weren’t that smart.

Before a drop of water could even hit your hair, a tall, dark figure steps out in front of you and blocks the downpour. Some might consider this a gentlemanly action, but you knew the man, and he was hardly ever gentle.

"You're welcome," Harvey says, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"You're a pain," you reply, but you're grateful for the cover.

"And you're dateless. So, I see two options: we can have dinner and a drink back at my place, or we can do dinner and a drink back at mine."

You can't help but laugh. "Did you use this on Scottie? I see why she left. That line was bad."

"You're not going to ask how I knew you were here?"

"Nope. You probably had Louis stalk me."

"Don't talk about the puppy like that."

"So you did have him stalk me!"

"I prefer the term 'make sure you were alright,'" Harvey replies, and he holds out his arm to you. "Guy was a douche. Let me buy you dessert to make up for it. And I don’t mean in the biblical sense, although that can be arranged, too, if you'd like."

"Harvey, you’re such—"

You turned to him, ready to tell him exactly what you thought of him, but the words died when you met his eyes. Those same eyes that allured you into taking his offer at Pearson Hardman. The same eyes that made you agree to work with him on the case despite your better judgment.

In a flash, you saw the whole thing: your first meeting, the cases, the laughs, the looks, the touches. And now, the moment.

When you were younger, the term butterflies had never really made sense to you. The idea of feeling them in your stomach seemed ridiculous, and yet, there you were, feeling them for the very first time.

They were all fluttering around inside of you, and all you could think was, "Oh, no."

And as if the universe had heard you, it suddenly stopped raining, and you both stood there in the middle of the street, the moon casting a warm light on your faces.

Harvey noticed it, too, and his expression softened. His usual cockiness was replaced with a gentle concern. "You okay?"

You nodded, biting your lip. "Yeah."

Harvey reached up and brushed a strand of hair away from your face, his hand lingering a moment longer than it needed to. He gave you that signature grin and asked, "You look like a velvet cake kind of girl. Am I right?"

He was right.

Goddamnit, he was right.

And as he swaddled you in his coat to keep you warm as you both went back inside, the anger and confusion you felt earlier melted into a quiet, warm glow.

Date night had not gone according to plan, but when his lips met yours and your hands slid through his soft, brown hair, you realized that, perhaps, sometimes, it was good to deviate from the plan.

The butterflies seemed to agree.

[nabooberrie]

Close enough, welcome back supernatural

[pearlessance]

Three's A Crowd

Tommy Miller x f!reader x Joel Miller

Summary: Tommy's new girlfriend is awfully sweet. When Joel finds out she's got a big appetite that only he can fill, he decides to satisfy the craving. Warnings: explicit sexual content MDNI, threesome, praise, seduction, age gap(20yrs), size difference, oral sex galore, unprotected sex, photos taken during intercourse, mention of sending nudes, throat bulge, usual smut antics NOTE: i'm not sure if this is actually any good considering it was writen in just a matter of days because i was inspired by the new promo, gabriel luna the man that you are 😵‍💫😵‍💫 !! MASTERLIST [crossposted to AO3]

 Joel Miller knows his brother like the back of his hand. 

Which is why it’s not surprising when Tommy lets him in on the details about his secret new girlfriend. Secret—because you’re the daughter of their most consistent client. 

At first, Joel tells him how stupid it is to risk the company like that. It’s irresponsible to put on the line their biggest cash cow just to fuck around with the only daughter of the man that funds Miller Contracting through the winter. And then there’s the fact that you don't exactly fit Tommy’s type.

A rich girl with an even richer daddy compared to all those wild girls from Tommy’s previous female fixations? It doesn’t line up. It makes no sense in Joel’s head. 

Even as his brother tries to explain, “I didn’t go after her. Not at first. She came onto me.”

Joel’s got one hand on the steering wheel and the other propped on the open window of his truck as they drive home from a particularly exhausting day. He furrows his brows and asks, “Don’t you think that’s a little suspicious? You sure she actually likes you and isn’t just tryin’ to get her daddy’s attention?”

Tommy snorts. “Even if she was, I wouldn't care. You ever met a girl that loves to suck cock before?”

“Jesus Christ—”

“An’ I mean love, Joel. Not like. Love.” There are stars in his eyes and he knows it’s a serious matter but Joel can’t help the laugh that escapes him.

He thinks it must be high praise coming from his brother who goes home with a different girl every other weekend. “That good, huh?”

“Better than good.” 

And he knows Tommy’s got a one-track mind, so there’s really no use fighting it. So he just says, “Be careful. Don’t go gettin’ caught 'cause the business will pay the price.”

Tommy agrees and Joel lets it go. Doesn’t think about it again, even when Tommy cancels their plans to go out that weekend in favor of your company.

Well, not until he’s standing in your kitchen going over blueprints with your father, that is. 

Joel tries not to glance out of the floor-length windows in the kitchen to the backyard. He tries not to look at the movement in the pool that repeatedly catches his eye. And he tries, really fucking hard, not to allow his attention to linger on the way that white bikini rests so snugly against your chest, or the way your wet hair cascades down your back and sticks to your smooth skin, or the way his cock twitches in his jeans when the impressive swell your ass shakes as you pull yourself up and out of the pool.

He understands his brother a little better when he sees you, Joel thinks. Understands why he’s willing to risk such a high-profit opportunity for the chance to see you underneath him. 

Your father leaves the kitchen to find an old set of blueprints to compare to the new ones, and Joel begins to panic as he realizes this is the moment you decide you’re done swimming. 

When you open the door to the kitchen the hinges creak. Joel takes note of it. 

Water drips onto the white tile floor, the same quick rhythm as the thumping of his heart against his sternum. You cross the kitchen and open the fridge door without even looking at him. 

But Joel certainly looks at you. Can’t help but to, really. You’re like some decadent display as you break the seal of an icy bottle of water and begin to take long, slow drinks from it. Your lips are plush and swollen and Tommy’s words reverberate in the back of Joel’s head. 

You ever met a girl that loves to suck cock before?

“Thirsty?”

He nearly chokes. Joel knows you’re likely just being hospitable. Kind, even. But he feels like he shouldn’t be speaking to you, not when you’re close to naked and dripping wet. And if not because of your father upstairs, then certainly because of his brother’s affinity for you. So, despite the way his tongue feels like sandpaper in his mouth, he says, “No, thanks.”

Joel turns his eyes back to his blueprints, folding the corner once, twice, trying to focus on anything but the weight of your stare.

If you notice his unease you ignore it as you slide up to the counter beside him and peer down at the layout of your father’s newest home renovation. You’re so close he can feel the heat of your skin, can smell the chlorine in your hair. “Hm,” you say. “This is for the guest room?”

“Bedroom D,” he corrects.

A small smile tugs at the corners of your lips. You turn away from the blueprints, spine resting against the marble countertop in favor of studying him instead. “You’re Joel, right? Tommy’s older brother?”

There’s no sense in lying, Joel thinks. Though he does consider it for a moment. “Uh…yeah,” he says. And then he clears his throat and nods, repeating a little more firmly, “Yeah.”

Your stare is so hot against his skin, eyes unabashedly roaming down the column of his neck. He shivers as your attention lingers on the small sliver of his chest that’s revealed thanks to his decision this morning to leave one of the buttons on his flannel unsecured. You’re standing so close to him now that a drop of chlorinated water falls from the ends of your hair and onto his arm.

Joel feels the cool liquid slide down his too warm-skin, melting as if it were ice, heating to the temperature of his blood that sings in his veins beneath your scrutinization.

He watches your tongue slide over your pretty bottom lip and his breath catches in his lungs. “Hm,” you say again, the sound a little fonder this time. “I see where he gets his good looks from.”

It’s been a long time since someone flirted with him so openly. Even longer since someone your age even took a second glance at him. And even though he knows, by the rule of his own morality, that you belong to his little brother…Joel can’t deny the giddy feeling it elicits in his chest. Can’t deny that he likes your attention, either.

“Found them,” your father suddenly says, bounding down the stairs with folded blueprints in his hand. 

Joel clears his throat and you take a small step away from him, but otherwise seem unphased by the intrusion. He tries to ignore the lingering buzzing beneath his skin, tries to shake off what remains of the electrified energy you’d created.

You greet your dad with a kiss on the cheek and tell him you’re going out tonight. Your father asks with who, and you glance past him, staring only at Joel as you say simply, “Just a friend.”

And he knows you’ll likely be at his little brother’s apartment within the hour. Thinks about preparing himself for yet another of Tommy’s cancellations of guy’s night but this time there’s no frustration on Joel’s part. 

Because he doesn’t blame his brother at all. If anything, he understands a little better now. Understands why getting drunk with Joel at a bar is a far less tempting activity than spreading those pretty thighs of yours. Understands why he’d rather stay home than go out, especially if you’re there in his bedroom on your knees for him. 

His assumption is confirmed later that night when he gets a text message.

Tommy: Have to cancel again. Sorry, something came up.

Joel knows exactly what ‘came up’ and decides to put on an old western movie to distract himself instead.

But when he lays in bed that night, the image of you in your bikini surfaces in his brain and makes a home there. He tries for an hour to get himself to relax enough to shut it out, to just go to sleep.

Eventually, though, he realizes there’s no fucking point in trying. And even though you’re in his brother’s bed and your father’s blueprints are sitting on the kitchen table downstairs, Joel Miller takes his cock in his hand and has the best orgasm of his life. He thinks about your smooth skin and supple curves, thinks about the way that single droplet of water felt against his skin, thinks about your pink tongue and the way you looked at him with such insatiable hunger.

It’s a secret Joel decides he’ll take to his grave.

He tries not to think of you after that. Tries to keep his distance from you, from your house in general. Joel’s not a man who enjoys technology but opts for emailing your father instead of meeting with him to avoid another post-pool incident.

Tommy finally makes it to guy’s night two weeks later but he’s glued to his fucking cell phone. Joel tries to make conversation, tells him about upcoming projects and opportunities for contracts, and mentions that this summer has been their most profitable yet. But Tommy only nods every so often. Giving Joel a stupid, uninterested, “Yeah, for sure,” or “That’s great, Joel,” or “I don’t know, maybe.”

There’s no salt to his words, no meaning other than oblivious agreement. And it starts to anger Joel because Tommy’s been distracted by girls before but never like this. Never so much so that he can’t sit and have half a conversation with his brother. Eventually, he lets out an annoyed sigh and says, “If you’ve got somewhere better to be you can just fuckin’ go, Tommy. Jesus Christ.”

The irritation seems to finally get his attention. Tommy locks his cell phone and says, “She’s sending me pictures, distractin’ me, I’m sorry,” but there’s a stupid ass grin on his face and Joel can feel the insincerity radiating off his brother.

Joel rolls his eyes and waves down the bartender for the check. 

“No, no, okay,” Tommy insists, setting his phone face down on the bar top. He shoos the bartender away and says, “Okay, seriously, you’re right. I’m sorry.” It’s a little more genuine this time, and so Joel decides to meet his brother halfway.

“You really like her? S’that what this is?”

That smile returns to Tommy’s face, eyes glossing over in a mystifying way. He must, because Joel’s never seen him like this before. “We’re not even together,” he says.

Joel’s brows furrow. “What are you talking about? You spend every weekend with her, you might as well be.”

“Believe me, Joel, I’ve tried, man. She’s…I don’t know how to explain it. She doesn’t want anything serious. Doesn’t wanna be exclusive or nothin’ but isn’t fuckin’ around with anyone but me. I just…” he shakes his head and his eyes widen and Joel can see the awe in them. 

“So she’s acting like you,” Joel supplies.

It makes Tommy laugh. But the more he explains, the more Joel starts to believe it. “She’s so sweet but that girl is insatiable. Just wants to fuck and have a good time and that’s it. Doesn’t care about much else.”

“I’m not sayin’ you shouldn’t have fun, Tommy, but don’t let her consume your whole life. Get some space every once in a while,” Joel says. But he understands the infatuation, understands exactly how enticing your company would be. 

He leans in close, one hand wrapped around his whiskey glass and the other tapping the back of his phone. “Those pictures…she’s taking pictures in the shower, Joel. For me. An’ you wanna know what she just told me the other day?”

Joel knows what’s coming next. Knows Tommy’s about to clue him in on something Joel has no business knowing, but he can’t fight off his curiosity. “What?”

“Said her biggest fantasy is a threesome with two guys. Told me, and I quote, that she wants to get fucked while she’s got my dick in her mouth.” He makes a sound of disbelief but there’s this grin on his face that lets Joel know Tommy’s biggest fantasy is to be with a filthy girl like you.

Joel just shakes his head.

But the image his brother paints lingers in his brain for days.

In fact, he’s still thinking about it during his next meeting with your father. Thinking about the fact that you’re up in your room, fantasizing about getting fucked by two guys at once when your dad suddenly says, “I’ll be out of town for a couple of weeks, I hope you don’t mind I gave my little girl your phone number. Just in case anything goes wrong. It won’t, but I hate being so far away while she’s here alone. I’m sure you understand, being a father and all.”

He doesn’t know what to say. Doesn’t know how to respond, unsure how to explain how terrible an idea that is, so he says nothing. Just nods stiffly and begins discussing the renovations for the ensuite of bedroom C. 

Less than a week later, Joel gets a phone call from an unknown number, and his gut sinks because he knows it’s you. He debates on ignoring the call but then begins to worry that something’s actually wrong and puts himself in your father’s position. Thinks he’d be furious, had it been Sarah, if she’d called someone for help and they’d ignored her. 

So, he presses his cell phone to his ear and says, “Hello?”

“Joel? Hi, sorry, I know it’s kinda late. Do you think you could come over really quick? I need your help.”

“Help? With what?” It doesn’t really matter, he thinks. Because he’s already lacing up his boots, phone held to his ear with his shoulder.

“I locked myself out,” you explain. “My dad’s out of town for work and I didn’t grab my key before he left. You have a spare, don’t you? For the renovations and stuff?”

Joel can’t help but wonder where you’ve been for the last few days. Someplace you wouldn’t have needed to come home, it seems. “Uh, yeah, I do,” he says. “I’ll be there in a minute. Hang tight.”

He finds you standing on your front porch with a backpack slung over your shoulder, your phone charger in your hand, and a look of relief on your face. “Thank you so much,” you immediately say. “I swear I never forget my key but I was distracted this time.”

Joel unlocks the front door for you and lets you inside. He lingers on the threshold, saying, “No, it’s fine. No worries at all.”

“Come inside,” you insist, and he can feel the bad decision from a fucking mile away.

“Really, it’s fine. I’ll just—”

“Please,” you interrupt. “Are you thirsty? Hungry? Let me make you something to eat before you go. It’s the least I could do.”

He shouldn’t. He shouldn’t. But he does.

Joel nods, unable to resist you and how pretty the word please sounds in your mouth. He follows you into the kitchen, lingering at the island counter as you drop your bag onto the floor next to the stairs and immediately plug your cell phone into the extra outlet he’d placed into the backsplash per your father’s request during last winter’s renovation. You look over your shoulder at him as you open the refrigerator and ask, “You like grilled cheese?”

“Uh, yeah. I do.” He sits in comfortable silence for a moment, watching the way you move as you prepare the bread and heat up a cast iron pan. Eventually, he finds the courage to ask, “You…uh…were you at Tommy’s?”

He watches as your cheeks redden the smallest bit. But there’s no shame in your voice as you answer simply, “Yes, I was.”

“Figured you’d tire each other out eventually,” he teases.

You laugh softly, and the buttered bread sizzles as you place it into the pan. As you lay the slices of cheese on top of it you explain, “Wasn’t like that. I’m home for the weekend so Tommy can talk to you, actually.”

It surprises him to hear it, in truth. “Me? What for?”

You flush an even deeper crimson. “Uhm…I think it’s better that you hear it from him,” you say.

Joel’s mind wanders to a million places as you dig out a spatula and flip the grilled cheese. But then a terrifying thought strikes him and Joel suddenly asks, “You’re not pregnant, are you?”

“Ew, no,” you say with a laugh. “Believe me, Joel, I like creampies just as much as the next girl but I’m not irresponsible about it.”

This time, it’s his face that warms. Joel swallows hard and sits on the barstool at the island, trying not to think about your inadvertent admission, trying not to imagine it, to imagine how fucking good it would feel to—

“Here,” you say, placing a glass plate in front of him with a perfectly crispy grilled cheese cut diagonally. He’s thankful for the distraction, thankful to convince himself the watering of his mouth is from the food in front of him and not the thought of how you would taste on his tongue.

“Thanks,” he says simply, trying to massage some of the tension from his shoulders. It had been a long day on the job site and he’ll admit to himself only that a grilled cheese and the sight of a pretty girl certainly feels like a treat.

You seem to notice his discomfort and ask, “You okay?”

He nods and takes a bite of his sandwich. It’s the most delicious thing he’s ever had and he tries to hold back his moan to no avail. When he looks over at you, you’re wearing a satisfied grin that only widens when he says around another mouthful, “This is incredible.”

As if it’s the most natural thing in the world, you step up behind him and place your hands on his shoulders. Joel opens his mouth to stop you, to tell you this is wrong, inappropriate—but then you kneed your fingers into the tender muscle, and his eyes flutter closed. 

All argument leaves him as quickly as it appeared, and all he can manage to say is, “Jesus Christ.”

Your quiet giggle is the cutest thing he’s ever heard. And Joel knows he should be thinking of his brother right now, knows he should be thinking of your father, thinking about the fact that you’re just a young woman, twenty years separating the two of you…but all he can focus on is the way your hands feel on him.

They’re warm and soft but clinical in their pursuit, thumbs pressing hard into the muscle that brackets his spine. Your delicate fingers feel like heaven, bringing relief he never realized just how badly he needed.

You slowly massage down his back, pushing against the knots, working them free. When you get to his lower back, he groans when you slip your hands beneath his navy t-shirt. You’re touching him with no barrier and it steals the breath from his lungs.

Never in his life has he wanted to be touched by someone so badly. Never in his life has he enjoyed the feel of another person’s skin against his so much. Your thumbs dig into the sore muscles, working the tension out.

You lean in so close that he can feel the heat of your breath against the shell of his ear as you say, “Will you take your shirt off?”

He’s thankful you’re standing behind him, however. Because it means you can’t see the way his cock stiffens in his jeans.

The words are tempting and seductive and wrong, he knows. He looks back at you and the heat in your eyes takes him off guard. The angle has his mouth so close to yours you’re sharing the same breath.

It’s then he knows just how badly you want him. As much as he wants you.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” you say. While you speak, your fingertips trace soft patterns into the skin of his lower back.

Joel knows it’s a bad idea, but he does it anyway.

You step away from him only long enough for Joel to grip his t-shirt at the back of his collar and pull it over his head, laying it on the marble countertop.

And then you go back to your ministrations as if nothing changed; massaging the tension from his muscles, starting low and working your way back up to his shoulders this time. But it is different, Joel knows. Because he can feel the heat of your skin against his and his heart rate picks up, a different kind of tension filling him instead.

But it feels so fucking good that he doesn’t ever want you to stop.

So, he eats what remains of his grilled cheese. Lets you work the tightness from his bones, trying not to hiss in pain when you touch a particularly tender spot in the center of his back. You lighten the pressure there and begin building back up to it slowly, bringing him to heights of euphoria he’d never known existed.

When he wipes the crumbs from his hands and pushes his now empty plate away, Joel knows he should stop you. But he doesn’t, because he can no longer find a reason good enough to say the words. He lets you dote on him in a way he doesn’t deserve and soaks it up while it lasts.

And when you press a sweet, chaste kiss to the top of his spine, Joel feels the energy shift but doesn’t say anything then, either.

Because he likes the way your lips feel against his skin. Even more so than your soft hands.

You do it again, a little higher this time. You kiss the back of his neck and he shivers. He realizes you can see the goosebumps that break out across his skin, because he can feel the smile on your lips as you press another wet, open-mouthed kiss to the junction of his shoulder.

Joel’s cock has never been this hard, he thinks. He’s never wanted someone so badly, has never been so incapable of making the right decision as he is at this very moment.

His breath comes fast and labored as you press yourself to him. You’re not wearing a bra beneath your oversized t-shirt, and he can feel your pebbled nipples against his back. Your hands move forward, circling his abdomen, sliding up and over his chest. He knows he should stop you now, knows this is the beginning of something he can never come back from.

But the two of you are all alone in this big empty house, and how can he deny you? He doesn’t have the strength. Not then you slide pretty, delicate fingers over his soft stomach, through the dark curls that disappear into his jeans.

Your hand is slow in its pursuit but still adamant as you palm the bulge in his jeans. Even through the thick denim, the feel of your hands on him makes him shake. He cock throbs with each gentle stroke, each small movement. “You can tell me to stop,” you tell him. “Is this okay?”

He can’t bring himself to say anything, but the moan that escapes him is answer enough. He places his hands on the edge of the counter and straightens his spine, getting a full view as you undo the button of his jeans and lower the metal zipper at an agonizingly slow pace.

And then you’re slipping a hand inside his jeans, below the elastic band of his boxers, and all thoughts eddy out of his head. He can think of nothing, nothing as you begin to stroke him. Your hands are small, barely fitting around his cock, but you make do with what you have and it’s more than enough.

You pull him out of his jeans completely, and it’s a sight to behold, seeing his cock in your pretty hands. He tries to catch his breath as you pull one of your hands away for a single moment. And when it returns, your fingers are sticky with webs of spit.

This time, when you wrap your hand around his cock, you’re able to stoke him a little easier, the added lubrication allowing for freer movement. You move slowly at first, hands grazing from base to tip.

He watches with reverence as you familiarize yourself with him. When a bead of precum forms at the tip of his cock, you use your thumb to add it to the sticky wetness already in your hands. Joel can feel the smile on your face as you continue to press desperate kisses to his spine, and he knows he won’t last long like this.

Watching you stroke him with both of your small hands, watching you take care of him like this…it’s too much. It’s too fucking much.

So he closes his eyes. Lets himself sink into the moment with you instead, listens to your pretty whimpers as you press your tits against him. He wants to reach around and slide his hand between your thighs but knows better, knows that this is already bad enough.

You tighten your hands around his cock, squeezing a little harder, and he feels his end begin to build at the base of his spine. “Fuck.”

“Does it feel good?”

He tries to breathe slowly, tries to draw it out. But you pick up your pace, stroking him a little faster, and Joel can’t stop the groan that escapes him.

“You make me so wet, Joel,” you whisper against his skin. “I think about you and touch myself sometimes, thinking about how fucking big you are, how good it would feel to have you touch me…how good you’d feel inside of me.”

Your filthy words bring him to the brink. Joel fights it, doesn’t want to finish so fast he embarrasses himself. He wants to see the look on your face, wants to fuck you right here on this kitchen counter that he built.

Joel clenches his fists instead. Stays stone still because he knows if he moves an inch he’ll be giving into these desires. Knows a single shift in position would have him pulling your shorts down your thighs and licking your pussy until he makes you cry out for God. 

But it’s not his place.

It’s not his fucking place, and you’re not his fucking girl.

So he doesn’t move.

You do, though.

Joel tries to catch his breath as you pull away from him, the absence of your touch leaving him cold and wanting. But then you’re nudging your way in front of him, in the small space between his knees and the island, and then you’re lowering yourself to the marble floor.

You ever met a girl that loves to suck cock before?

Slowly, you run your hands over his jean-clad thighs. You look up at him through your lashes and he feels a little like he’s being worshipped.

And when you lean forward, pretty, soft tongue licking the underside of his cock, Joel can’t keep his hands to himself. His resolve withers, and he threads his fingers through your hair but is careful not to rush you.

He lets you take your time, lets you swirl your tongue over the head, lets you taste every inch of him to your heart’s content. And when you finally take him into your mouth, cheeks hallowed out, creating a tight seal around him, Joel’s head falls back in bliss.

You savor it, relish in it, swallowing him down inch by inch. He hits the back of your throat and still you keep going, choking on him, nose pressed against the hair below his navel. With each pass, you begin to bob your head, tongue smoothing over the sensitive tip. You set an insatiable rhythm, drool sliding down your chin.

It doesn’t take him long. His hands tighten in the hair at the nape of your neck and he breaths out, “Fuck, fuck, sweetheart, I’m gonna-”

Your watery eyes meet his and the adoration in them sends him over the edge. Joel finishes at the back of your mouth, your fingernails digging into the meaty flesh of his thighs almost painfully, but you take everything he gives you and swallow it down.

It’s the sexiest thing he’s seen in all his life.

When he finishes, Joel strokes your hair affectionately and you smile up at him with his cock still in your mouth. It makes him laugh, and he realizes how soft and sweet this moment feels. How easy it is. How he never wants it to end.

Slowly, you sit back and begin to stand to your feet. Your lips are swollen and red and glossy, even when you wipe the spit off your chin with the back of your hand.

You cross the kitchen, grab your phone, and make your way to the staircase. “Thanks again, Joel. Can you lock up on your way out?”

He doesn’t understand how you can feel so casually about this. Doesn’t understand how you’re likely texting his brother as if Joel’s cock wasn’t just in your mouth, as if the taste of his release doesn’t linger on your tongue. 

The guilt doesn’t set in until he’s in bed that night. He can’t sleep, because he knows he has to say something to Tommy but knows, too, he’ll likely pay the price of a right hook in reparation. 

At three in the morning he sends a text to his brother; Come over in the morning. Need to talk. Important. 

Joel doesn’t sleep. He lays in bed and thinks of you, as he so often does these days. Thinks about how uncomfortable it’s going to be to tell his little brother that he indulged himself in the pretty little thing he’s been spending all of his time with. He decides he’s just going to say it outright, tell him the truth without beating around the bush, and immediately apologize for it afterward.

Because he is sorry, Joel thinks. Not sorry that he did it, but sorry that it’s hurt people in the process.

How can he come to regret the most gratifying sexual experience of his life? It’s a comfort, to hear some of Tommy’s words echo in his brain. 

We’re not even together.

She doesn’t want anything serious.

It’s like she just wants to fuck and have a good time and that’s it.

Joel hopes his brother feels a similar way. Tommy’s never once indicated he’s ever wanted to settle down with a woman, but…something sits in his gut and twists up his insides. Because as much as he wants to deny it, Joel knows this…knows you are different. What Tommy feels for you is different.

He’s drinking whiskey by ten in the morning for no reason other than to calm his nerves.

And Joel’s thankful for the liquid courage when Tommy finally pulls into the driveway at noon. He comes barrelling through Joel’s front door with a scowl on his face, and for a second Joel wonders if his brother already knows and is here thinking Joel had every intention of keeping this secret of yours.

But when he speaks, Tommy doesn’t seem angry. Just…concerned. “What’s up, man? Pretty ominous text to wake up to. Where’s Sarah? She alright?”

Joel shakes his head and raises a hand between them. “Sarah’s fine, she’s alright,” he says quickly. “Staying with a friend this weekend. Sorry, I guess I should have mentioned it wasn’t a life or death situation.” 

For Tommy, anyway.

With a slow nod, Tommy’s shoulders slump and he drops himself onto the couch. “Alright, then. That’s good. I was worried, came haulin’ ass over here.” It’s then he notices the tumbler in Joel’s hand, half filled with amber-colored liquid. “You good, Joel?”

He takes a seat next to his brother and tries to recite the speech in his head. But nothing comes out. Joel opens and closes his mouth once, twice, and then finishes off the whiskey in his glass.

Tommy’s patient, for what it’s worth. He lets Joel adjust in his seat three different times, saying nothing while he tries to find the courage he’s been building for the last twelve hours.

“I…I, uhm…I have to tell you something an’ I…” Joel shakes his head and squeezes his jaw. “Alright, look. I…did something.”

A quiet, curt sort of laugh leaves Tommy. “I know what happened last night, Joel. She already told me.”

It surprises him. Not that you told him, Joel can’t fault you for that considering he’s presently trying to do the same thing. What’s surprising is that Tommy seems relaxed about the whole situation. Relieved, even.

A million different questions surface on the tip of his tongue, but only one comes out. “What?”

“It’s alright, man,” Tommy says, laying a comforting hand on Joel’s shoulder.

“You’re not…mad? I don’t understand. I let her—”

Tommy’s mouth stretches into one of the widest smiles Joel’s ever seen on his brother’s face. “It was good, huh?”

Joel doesn’t know if saying yes is a good idea. Doesn’t know if a simple three-letter word is sufficient enough for the things you made him feel with that pretty, pink tongue of yours. 

But it seems his thoughts are written plainly on his face. “Fuck yeah, it was,” Tommy says with a laugh. “She called me right after you left her house last night. Told me everything. She makes a mean grilled cheese too, doesn’t she?”

Try as he might, Joel can’t seem to wrap his head around what’s happening. Can’t seem to process his brother’s ease, his indifference. He tries to put himself in Tommy’s place but knows that if it was his bed you slept in for the last week, Joel would be furious to learn you’d wound up on your knees for someone else.

But if that someone was Tommy? His own brother?

Maybe that’s why it’s different. Because Joel would never do something to hurt his brother intentionally. And he knows, too, that Tommy would never do it to him, either.

He trusts his brother with everything in him. There’s not another soul on the planet who knows him like Tommy does. So, surely, he knows that what you and Joel did wasn’t born of malicious intent, right?

“She’s a sweet little thing,” Tommy says quietly, as if they’re sharing a secret. “But that mouth on her is somethin’ else. She’s a talker, through and through.” There’s pride on his face as he speaks. “Said she felt real bad, runnin’ out on you like that, but she’d gotten so wet from just goin’ down on you that I could hear it through the fuckin’ phone, Joel.”

Though he tries not to, Joel begins to wonder what would have happened if you’d stayed, if you hadn’t disappeared so fast to take care of the ache that had settled between your thighs.

It would have been only fair, right? You helped him. He would have helped you.

“She wanted me to talk to you about something, anyway,” Tommy says.

He’d nearly forgotten that you’d mentioned the same thing last night in all the chaos. It piques his interest, because what on Earth could you need Tommy to ask him?

But his answer comes quickly when his brother says carefully, “You remember a couple of weeks ago when I told you what her biggest fantasy is?”

A threesome.

Joel’s standing from the couch and shaking his head before his brother gets another word out. “Have you lost your fuckin’ mind, Tommy?”

“Joel, just listen—”

“Listen to what, man? You got any idea what you’re askin’ me right now?”

There’s a smirk on his face as he stares at Joel from the couch, looking just as comfortable as if they were having a normal conversation about what they should eat for dinner. “I’m askin’ you to fuck my girlfriend,” he says.

Somehow, the word girlfriend surprises Joel more than the rest. It’s the very first time he’s ever called anyone his girlfriend. “I thought you weren’t together.”

Tommy shrugs. “Call it what you will. Does it really matter?”

“Yeah, Tommy, it does matter. Look me in the eye and tell me you don’t have feelings for this girl. Tell me this doesn’t mean anythin’ to you, that doing somethin’ like this wouldn’t fuck it all up in a minute.”

He shakes his head. “Can’t lie to you, brother. ‘Course she means somethin’ to me. That’s why I wanna give her everything she wants. And she wants you too, Joel. Is that so bad?”

Joel sighs heavily and runs a hand through his hair, pulling at the roots.

For a second, a single second, he considers it. Thinks about how any price is worth it for a single night with you, to hear the sound of your moans, to feel your warm breath against his neck again. He’d bet you sound real pretty, all filled up with him.

“Don’t trust anyone else to take care of her the way I do,” Tommy says. “No one but you.”

It’s too much. It’s way too much to ask of him.

“You’re insane, Tommy,” he says, grabbing his whiskey glass from the coffee table and escaping to the kitchen to refill it. He wishes he had something a little stronger.

He’s not surprised when his brother follows him to the kitchen. Tommy leans against the archway and says, “You can say no.”

“Good, 'cause I’m sayin’ no.”

Tommy laughs, but Joel thinks there’s no joke to be found. “Just wanted you to know the offer’s there and she’d jump at the opportunity. Y’know, if you change your mind, that is. Ask her about it, if you wanna.”

“I won’t.”

He raises his hands in surrender. “Alright, not tryin’ to push it or anything. You know how to get ahold of me.”

And then his brother retreats, leaving Joel with nothing but his whiskey and his thoughts.

Thoughts that run rampant in his brain. Filthy images of you beneath him, back arched in pleasure, pretty mouth hung open just wide enough for Tommy to slip inside.

How terrible would it be, really? Tommy might have impulsive tendencies, but he seems so sure of this. And if there’s not an ounce of jealousy in his brother, so much so that he offers you to Joel like some sort of prize…maybe there won’t be the repercussions Joel’s afraid of.

Maybe it’ll be as Tommy says. Maybe it would just be a good, safe way to give you what you want, to indulge your wildest desires. 

And it would certainly be an indulgence for him. Just feeling your hands on him had brought Joel bliss like he’d never known. He can’t imagine how much higher he’d feel if he could taste you, if he could finish deep inside of you and not at the back of your throat.

It takes twenty minutes of pacing in his kitchen and another ten of shaking the nerves from his hands before he picks up the phone and calls you.

“Hey, Joel. I was just thinking about you.”

“S’that right?”

“Mmhm. Did…did Tommy talk to you yet? He told me he was going to this morning.” 

“Yeah, sweetheart. He did.”

A strange sort of silence stretches on. He can hear your hesitance and realizes you’re just as nervous as he is. “And? What did you…what did you say?”

He doesn’t have the heart to tell you he declined the offer. Not when it was a no mostly out of fear and unease. “You wanna tell me how this is gonna work?”

You snort and he can almost see the playful smirk on your face. “I think you know how it works, Joel.”

“That’s not what I mean,” he says, but can’t fight off the smile that climbs onto his face and makes a home there. “Brat.”

“Hm, I think I prefer the term princess.”

Joel laughs but thinks the name is real fitting. He can see why Tommy likes you so much—can understand why he wants to give you everything it is that you desire. Everything about you is so playful and carefree and innocent. You’re just so sweet. A tooth-rotting confectionary. 

“I don’t know how it’ll work,” you finally say. “I’ve never done something like this before, but I know it’s what I want.”

Your conviction is reassuring. Both you and Tommy seem certain that this is the path you want to take, no unease to be found within either of you. But it’s not the physical that worries him. It’s…everything else. “An’ what happens if it becomes something more? Sex is just sex until it isn’t.”

He can hear the smile in your words as you ask, “You worried about catching feelings for me, Joel Miller?”

“I’m bein’ serious,” he insists. “Tommy feels somethin’ for you. I know it and I think you probably do, too. I don’t want to do this and ruin what the two of you have been workin’ on.”

“You won’t ruin anything,” you insist. “And if…if things do get…complicated, then we’ll just take it day by day. No use in worrying about something that might not happen, right?”

It’s such a naive way of thinking. Joel wishes he wouldn’t have said no so quickly. Wishes, too, that you were a little different. Maybe if you weren’t so sweet, so tempting, he wouldn’t be so worried about ‘catching feelings,’ as you’d put it.

Your voice is quieter as you say, “For what it’s worth, Joel…I like you, too.”

By the end of the phone call, you manage to convince him to consider it. To genuinely give the idea a shot, to weigh all the pros and cons. You promise not to be disappointed with either decision and though he knows the whole thing has been your idea, Joel believes you.

Several days later, Joel stops by with the intent to fix the creaky hinges on the door to the pool. But the moment he steps into the kitchen, Joel forgets all about the task at hand because he can hear your moans echoing through the house.

He follows them like a moth to a flame.

The door to your father’s bedroom is wide open. And in the center of the king-sized bed, covered with gray satin sheets, is you and Tommy.

Tommy’s turned away from the door, but you’re looking right at it. Looking right at Joel, as you bounce in his brother’s lap. When your eyes connect with him, your pace only picks up, your moans only grow louder.

Joel watches, frozen in time, as you chase your release. Tommy swirls his tongue around your pebbled nipple, leaving a trail of wetness in its wake. You thread your fingers through his hair and moan his name but you stare right at Joel.

He can’t breathe. Has suddenly forgotten the process of inhalation. He’s seen you in your bikini but never like this, never completely bare. You’re beautiful, Joel thinks. Beautiful in a godly way; a woman the poets write for, a woman the sculptors display in cathedrals.

You reach a hand between your bodies, circling your clit and arching your back.

The thought doesn’t even cross Joel’s mind that he should leave, that he should give the two of you some privacy. It feels right that he’s here. 

You grind yourself on Tommy’s cock and give Joel the sweetest, most innocent smile as you say, “It’s so big, you’re so deep. God, fuck, I’m gonna cum.”

Tommy grabs at the soft swell of your ass, lifting you just to slam you back down onto his lap. “Yeah? Gonna cum all over this dick, princess?”

I prefer the term princess.

No need to wonder why, Joel thinks.

“Mmhm, yes, yes, right there.”

“Can feel her gettin’ all messy,” Tommy says. “If I knew you’d get this wet ridin’ me in your daddy’s bed I would’ve said yes weeks ago, pretty girl.”

Joel knows the reason you’re all worked up has nothing to do with the location and everything to do with his eyes on you, but he stays silent. Stays still.

Even as he watches you fall apart on his brother's cock and soak the satin sheets beneath him. Even as Tommy does the thing that Joel’s been dreaming about every night for days, filling you up with his release. 

He doesn’t linger. He doesn’t fix the creaky hinges, either.

Joel barely makes it back to his truck before he’s reaching into his jeans to stroke his cock, right there in the driveway in broad fucking daylight.

It only takes a few quick tugs before he covers his hand in sticky ropes of cum. He tries to catch his breath, wiping the mess you’ve made of him onto his jeans and driving home ten over the limit. Before he makes it inside to shower and change, Joel sends a text message to both you and Tommy that reads; Okay. I’m in. My place. Friday night at ten.

He tries not to think about it too much. Tries to go on about his work week like normal, going through the motions of making dinner each night and taking Sarah to school every morning with Tommy in the passenger seat.

They don’t talk about it, though Joel can sometimes feel his brother staring at him a little too long as if there’s something he wants to say. But he doesn’t. They don’t bring it up until after Joel drops Sarah off at her friend’s house for another weekend-long slumber party. 

Tommy says, “I’m gonna take her out for dinner. Do you want to come with us? Could help break the ice a little. Loosen you up.”

He agrees, and instead of going home, they pick you up from your house. You’re wearing a pleated blue skirt that’s a little too short, but Joel thinks you look like something divine. Tommy helps you up into the truck, and everything starts to feel real the moment you’re sitting between them. Joel behind the wheel, Tommy on the passenger side.

You look so small in the center of the cab, surrounded by two brothers who possess nothing but longing for you. Like pretty prey caught in the clutches of two predators.

Joel has to readjust himself in his seat when you lean over and press a kiss to his cheek. Sweet. “Missed you,” you say. “You look good. You both do.”

He doesn’t comment on the fact that they’re both still in their work attire; dirty blue jeans, sun-faded t-shirts, and muddy boots. He’s surprised to hear your appreciation, considering how put together you always seem to be.

But maybe that’s the appeal for you. The blue-collar archetype. Your daddy probably expects you to marry the son of one of his friends, just another rich boy.

If he could see you now…

Tommy slides his hand to the inside of your thigh and squeezes. “You hungry, princess? Let’s get you somethin’ to eat.”

As much as he hates to admit when his brother’s right, dinner works wonders for Joel’s nerves. The three of you talk the entire time; you tell Joel about your friends and the subjects you’re studying in that fancy college you got into on a full ride. It’s not the one your father wanted you to attend, but it’s the one you wanted.

Even though he knows Tommy has heard it all before, he lets you and Joel have this moment. He sits beside you and smiles at you as you speak, eyes glued to the side of your face and full of adoration. Joel realizes then that he thinks his brother might be in love with you.

He gets it. Thinks it must have been a real easy fall.

Tommy slots himself in the conversation naturally. The two of you clue Joel in on some of your inside jokes and it doesn’t feel weird at all. He doesn’t feel left out like he’d worried he might be, and he doesn’t feel jealous when you steal bites from Tommy’s plate because you steal things from Joel’s, too.

It’s easy. Nothing feels forced, no conversation out of place.

Halfway through the meal, you switch sides of the booth and sit next to Joel instead. You lay your head on his shoulder and he holds your hand beneath the table and it feels right. Tommy smiles at the two of you and carries on with his story as if the dynamic you’ve created has existed for years and not just hours.

When it’s time to go home, Joel finds that his nerves have completely vanished.

Tommy offers to drive. And he’s thankful for it because it allows him to focus on just you.

You take Joel’s hand and lay it in your lap, palm open. He shivers as you trace the lines in his hand. You ask him, “How are you feeling?”

And the answer comes to him easily. “Good,” he says. “Better.”

“Told you,” Tommy says, one hand on the wheel and the other on your thigh. “She’s a real good girl, Joel. Always does as she’s told.”

Even though the sun is setting below the horizon, he can see the crimson that stains your cheeks and it brings a smile to his face. “S’that right?” He takes your chin gently in his hand and forces you to look up at him. “You a real good listener, sweetheart?”

“Yeah, she is,” Tommy answers wistfully. “Why don’t you g’’head and give Joel some sugar, princess.”

You lean into Joel’s side, pressing a kiss to his jaw. It feels good just being close to you, holding you in his hands, but when you touch him, it’s something else entirely. An uncontrollable desire, an unfamiliar sort of decadence.

Joel cradles your face in his big hand, thumb stroking your cheekbone, and gently presses his lips to yours. It’s soft at first, a tender curiosity. He kisses you again, a little more heated this time, and when he flicks his tongue across your bottom lip you grant him access as if it’s second nature. 

His tongue explores yours, tangling together, invading your sweet mouth. Joel thinks you taste a little like honey and a whole lot like fortuity. If you had asked him ten years ago if he’d ever imagined he’d be in this spot, tasting the inside of his brother’s girlfriend’s mouth, Joel would have said it was a delusional thought. 

Yet here he was, cock stiffening in his jeans from something as simple as a kiss. Like he’s some teenage boy, experiencing a woman for the first time.

But it is his first time experiencing you, and Joel knows that’s what makes all the difference. 

The kiss turns sloppy and desperate. And when your panting breaths turn to moans, Joel realizes Tommy’s hand on your thigh has disappeared beneath your skirt.

It surprises him, the magnitude of the moment. Joel would have thought he’d feel jealous somehow, envious that his brother’s touching you and he’s not. But there’s nothing but satisfaction to be found. Joel likes to see the dark look in your eye, likes to see your breath hitch in your throat.

He takes your legs and spreads them wide, draping your thigh over his, giving his brother more room to touch you.

“What do you think, brother? Think we should give her what she needs before we even get home?”

Your face is so close to his that your breath fans across his spit-covered lips as you say so beautifully, “Please, Joel.”

A smirk finds its way to his mouth. “You look so fuckin’ pretty when you beg, sweetheart,” he says. “S’that what you want? Hm?”

You nod frantically, eyes pleading.

“Hold your skirt up, baby,” Tommy instructs. And you do as he says without question, fabric bunching around your hips. 

Joel can’t deny the pleasure he finds in discovering you’re completely bare beneath. Even from his spot in the passenger seat, he can see how glossy your pussy is with arousal, desperate to be touched by both of them. “Oh…look at that, Tommy. She wants it bad, doesn’t she?”

“Always does, brother. Needy little thing. S’why she needs the two of us,” Tommy says. His fingers trail lazily over your slit, a teasing caress. He presses his index finger against your clit and makes a satisfied hum, a sound that comes from somewhere deep in his chest. “Can feel your heartbeat right here, princess. Tell Joel what you want.”

“I want him to touch me,” you say, a little bit breathless. “Want him to make me cum while you kiss me. You taste so good, Joel. You make me so wet.”

The words don’t sound filthy or obscene in your voice, despite how vulgar they are. Joel squeezes your jaw in his hand and delights in the way you grin when he says, “Eyes on me, sweetheart. Wanna see the look on your face when he fills you up with his fingers.”

You’re so pretty, Joel thinks. But it’s nothing compared to the way your pupils dilate as his brother stretches you open. Your lips part and Joel takes the opportunity to crush his mouth to yours, to taste the sweetness you possess. 

He drinks up your moans as Tommy sets a steady pace between your thighs. Joel grabs the back of your knee with a rough hand and spreads your legs further apart. He can hear how wet you are, can feel the goosebumps as they form down the column of your throat.

Joel pulls away from your spellbinding kiss only to catch his breath. “How’s it feel, baby? That feel good, hm? Tommy takin’ good care of you?”

“Yes, yes—mmm—fuck. His hands are so big, feel so fucking good,” you whimper. One hand is clutching Joel’s shirt, holding on for dear life, and you move the other to rest on his cock. You gently knead it over his jeans, and he wonders if you can feel just how hard he is for you.

It doesn’t take long until his brother has you trembling. Your thighs shake and a crease forms between your brows as you chase after the relief you seek.

He kisses you again, tongue brushing against yours, and when you breathe Joel’s name into his mouth he knows what you need before you even ask. 

Slowly, experimentally, Joel’s hand on your knee travels upwards. Over the soft skin of your thigh, taking it all in, savoring you—and then his fingers are circling your clit while Tommy’s are shoved deep inside of you, curved to hit the perfect spot, and you come undone within seconds. 

“Oh, God, Tommy, I—”

“I know, baby, it’s okay. Go ahead,” he says, giving you full permission. 

The words are the last thing you need to reach the full height of euphoria. You’re reduced to a trembling mess in his hands and Joel thinks this is so much better than his dreams. Better than standing in the doorway, watching you, wishing he could hold you.

“That’s it,” Joel praises. “There you go. Bein’ so good for us, sweetheart.” Wetness coats his fingers as he continues to circle your clit until your breath stutters in your chest. He kisses you hard as Tommy’s rhythm begins to slow, eventually stilling completely. 

You wince as they both pull their hands away from you at the same time, a synchronized movement. 

Tommy pulls the truck into Joel’s driveway and chuckles as he looks at you, skirt still hiked up around your hips, limbs boneless. He strokes the side of your face and kisses your hair. “You’re alright, princess. We’re just gettin’ started.”

Joel climbs out of the truck and adjusts your skirt, holding you with an arm around your waist to ensure your balance until both feet are on the ground. Tommy comes to your side and slides his hand into yours, handing Joel the keys.

While he works to unlock the front door, Joel can’t help but smile at the sound of your sweet giggles. He looks over his shoulder to see his brother kissing your neck and grabbing your ass, and the two of you look so infatuated with one another that it’s intoxicating. A magnetism he can’t help but be drawn to, a warmth he wants to embrace.

The minute you walk in the door you’ve got your hands on Joel again. You slip them beneath his t-shirt and he’s thrilled to give you what you want. He pulls it off over his head, discarding it on the back of the couch, and lets out a pleased sigh as you begin peppering wet kisses over his chest, down his sternum, fingers grabbing needily at his skin. 

Tommy stands behind you as you lower yourself to your knees between them. He runs his hands through your hair lovingly and says, “Show him what you do best, baby.”

You smile up at him and it takes Joel’s breath away. He’s never seen someone so pleased to please him, never felt this wanted in all his life. The metal of his belt buckle clinks against the button of his jeans as you undo them, pulling down his zipper in a way that’s familiar to you now.

When you pull his cock out, you wrap one hand around it and guide the tip to your mouth. He’s so hard already that he aches, but the feel of your soft tongue on him grants him ease. You lick every inch of him, an indulgent sort of torture. And then you’re swallowing him down, creating a tight seal with your plush lips.

Your mouth feels like heaven, Joel thinks.

“Look at the way she’s got her legs pressed together,” Tommy murmurs, thumb caressing your temple gently. “Gets so turned on with a dick in her mouth she just doesn’t know what to do with herself.”

“We’re gonna take care of that for you,” Joel says, cupping your jaw in his hand. He shifts it a little lower and can feel the outline of his cock through your throat as you swallow him down, gasping for air you never once ask for. “Gonna take care of everythin’ for you, sweetheart.”

Pleasure coils around his spine, a vise-like grip that threatens to end this night well before he’s ready for it.

Tommy grabs a handful of your hair and draws your head back. Strands of spit still connect you to him and drool runs down your chin. It’s the most pornographic thing he’s ever seen. Tommy laughs and says, “I know, brother. S’almost too good.”

Joel knows it should be a strange thing to hear, but it feels innate. He helps you back to your feet and pulls your shirt over your head while Tommy unzips the back of your skirt and slides it down your legs.

You turn and wrap your arms around Tommy’s neck and he lifts you up in his arms like it’s second nature. Joel supposes it is—the two of you have had a whole lot more practice together than he has. Tommy starts towards the stairs, heading towards Joel’s bedroom, but you let out a whine and reach out for him.

He can’t deny how warm it makes him feel, seeing you all wrapped up in his brother but still reaching for his hand. The smile you give him the moment he touches you makes his heart constrict in his chest. It’s such a soft, intimate moment, and Joel can think of nothing but your conversation on the phone last week.

You worried about catching feelings for me, Joel Miller?

He wasn’t a week ago. But now…? Now, he’s not so sure.

Tommy lays you down in the center of Joel’s bed and the sight of it pushes away his anxiety. You’re so beautiful with your hair splayed out behind you, an angelic sort of halo. The thought crosses his mind that you might have always been meant to exist in his bed.

It feels like second nature to crawl over you, to let his hands roam over your chest, your ribs, your hips. Joel follows each caress with a kiss, mouth following the echo of his hands. He sucks a bruise into your hip, ensuring this moment is real with physical, tangible evidence.

When he gets to the crease of your thigh, Joel sits up and spreads your legs wide. “Look at that,” he whispers. Tommy’s pulling off his worn t-shirt and working on his jeans but pauses long enough to appreciate the sight of your pussy, glossy with arousal and what remains of your first release. “She’s so fuckin’ pretty, ain’t she?”

“Yeah, she is,” Tommy agrees. “Taste’s real pretty, too.” He leans over and presses his mouth to yours, a messy, needy sort of kiss. You whimper as Tommy asks, “What d’you think, princess? Think Joel should get a taste? Hm?”

“Yes,” you say without hesitation. “I want it so bad, Tommy, please.”

“Want it, huh?” Joel slots himself between your thighs, his mouth an inch from where that ache resides. “Maybe we should make her wait a little longer, Tommy. Make her wait ‘til she needs it.”

“No, no, please,” you cry. You buck your hips, trying to find reprieve, but Joel’s hands on your waist hold firm. “I do, I do, I need it, Joel, please, please.”

He looks to his brother to make the decision. Tommy’s got a wicked grin on his face as he watches you writhe on Joel’s sheets. “Think you’ve been real good today. But don’t go forgettin’ your manners, princess. When Joel licks that pretty pussy of yours, you better say thank you.”

The moment he slides his tongue through your slit, your spine bends, arching off the mattress. Your shoulders slump and your breath comes fast. “Oh my god,” you moan. “Thank you, Joel, fuck.”

He tries to give you the same tentative treatment you’ve given him; tracing every inch of you with the flat of his tongue, memorizing the sweet taste, sucking your clit into his mouth. He can feel it pulse with need, and Joel understands the fever.

Your thighs clamp down around his head but Joel doesn’t mind. He just presses his mouth against you harder and flicks his tongue a little faster.

“Tommy,” you whimper. Joel looks up to see your chest heave with each shaking breath. You reach out for his brother with trembling fingers.

“I’m comin', baby,” Tommy says softly. “Don’t you worry.” The mattress dips beneath his weight as he kneels beside you. He cradles your head in his hand, supporting your neck while he eases his cock into your mouth. 

It’s the hottest thing Joel Miller has ever seen in his fucking life.

You grind yourself against his face and he supplies the friction you seek. Arousal coats his facial hair, enveloping his senses in nothing but you. Your moans, your taste, your scent—you, you you. He thinks he’ll never want it any other way but this.

Tommy guides your mouth with a hand wrapped in the tangled strands of your hair. He fucks your face and you whimper around his cock like there’s nothing else in the world that could ever compare. He smiles down at you and says, “You’re gonna make her cum, Joel. Can you feel it? Get’s real sloppy when she’s right there, right on the edge.”

Joel groans against you and focuses his mouth on your clit, giving him just enough room to slip a finger inside you to massage that sweet spot.

You stretch your arms above you and fist your hands in the sheets. When you reach the summit, Joel can feel it on his tongue, can feel your pussy tighten around his finger, can feel your thighs shake around his head.

Tommy pulls your head back, giving you a moment to breathe as another orgasm surges through you. Your moans echo in Joel’s room, the prettiest-sounding symphony he’s ever heard. “Good fuckin’ girl,” Tommy praises, just as breathless as you. “Bein’ such a good girl for us, baby.”

Joel doesn’t relent, doesn’t stop licking your clit until you’re giggling and twisting in his hands at the overstimulation. You sound so satisfied, so happy. It pleases him to see the elation on your face. When he finally pulls away, Joel snakes his arms beneath you and pulls you up to your knees. “So good,” Joel agrees. “But she’s gonna give us another one, aren’t you, sweetheart?”

All you can do is nod and it makes both brothers laugh.

“She’s usually got so much to say,” Tommy teases. “Think we’ve got her fucked dumb, brother.”

“That’s alright,” Joel whispers. “We’ll do all the thinkin’ for her, hm? Take such good care of this sweet little pussy. Turn around, baby. On your hands and knees.”

You do as he says blissfully, ass arched beautifully on display for him. Tommy maneuvers himself in front of you and you take him in your mouth on instinct. Second nature, habitual.

Joel positions himself behind you and slides the head of his cock through your slit. “This what you want, sweet girl? This what you dream of?”

Leaning back, you stroke Tommy with your hand and look up at him as you answer Joel’s question. “Yes,” you say. “I haven’t stopped thinking about it since I saw you. Knew I needed you, Joel. Knew I needed you both.”

“Three’s a crowd, princess,” Tommy says. “But I think I like this one.”

Joel’s inclined to agree. He pushes into you slowly, sighing in contentment at the gratifying tightness. You’re so wet, so warm. “Goddamn, baby,” he groans, gripping the supple flesh of your ass to keep himself tethered to earth, to keep himself grounded. 

Tommy holds your face in his hands, smoothing his cock over your lips. “Oh, she likes it, Joel,” he says. “Should see her face. Can I take a picture, baby? So Joel can see how happy you look with his dick all up in your guts? Hm?”

The words are crude but Joel can feel you tighten around him as Tommy speaks. “Mmhm,” is all you can say, sticking your tongue out to lick the underside of Tommy’s cock.

He reaches over to the nightstand where his cell phone sits. Tommy angles his phone just right, and the shutter echoes in the room as he takes his photos.

Joel pushes into you real slow. And when he’s buried to the hilt you let out a gasp and hold onto Tommy’s thigh for support, balance wavering. “It feels so fucking good,” you say.

Tommy takes a couple more photos, tries a couple of different angles. But Joel thinks no image will ever beat the one in front of him.

He watches your pussy stretch to make room for him, watches you soak his cock, desperate for it. Tilting his hips forward, Joel sets a steady pace, easily finding a rhythm that has you moaning out his name. 

Satisfied with his work, Tommy sets his phone back on the nightstand in favor of the filthy exhibit before him. He guides his cock back to your mouth, groaning at the feel of your tongue. 

Joel thrusts into you and feels that coil begin to form around the base of his spine again.

You’re moaning around Tommy’s cock and he’s smiling like there’s no place else he’d rather be. Joel understands that, too—because he thinks you’re the most perfect girl that could have ever stumbled into their lives. “S’this what you needed, princess? Needed us both, hm? Dirty little girl.”

“Our girl,” Joel muses, captivated by the way you squeeze him as he says it. He fits so perfectly inside you, like you were made for him, made for this. “Stretchin’ her out so easy, brother. Sweet little pussy’s just cryin’ for it.”

Tommy’s head falls back and his hips stutter. “Just like that, princess,” he praises gently. “Yeah, shit—gonna swallow it all like a good little girl, ain’t you?” 

You make a sound of approval at the back of your throat. Joel can see you look up at his brother, cock-drunk and starry-eyed, and he feels his chest pull tight with a strange sense of pride.

Joel slows his pace just a little, long enough for Tommy to take what he needs from you, for you to focus on just him. And then he’s breathing hard as he holds your head still, nose pressed against his navel. His shoulders draw tight and then gradually relax as he spills his release at the back of your throat. 

When Tommy pulls out of you, his cock is covered in spit and cum but you do as he says, dutifully swallowing it all up like the perfect girl you are. And you even clean any remaining mess with your tongue, licking it up with sweet reverence.

He’s close—so close it aches, but he wants you to give him another before this is other. Wants to make it worth your while, wants to know how it feels to make you cum while he’s buried deep inside you. 

You arch your back and press your cheek against the mattress, looking back at Joel from over your shoulder.

Tommy moves to your side, smoothing your hair out of your face with one hand, and then he slips the other beneath you and circles your clit with skilled, deft fingers.

The response is instantaneous. Joel can feel your pussy pulse around him, sees the strain on your face as you fight the pleasure. You say his brother's name like a prayer shrouded in ecstasy.

But Tommy just shakes his head. “Nah, princess. Ain’t up to me this time. You gotta ask Joel permission.”

He doesn’t understand at first, this almost silent communication between the two of you. But then you say, “Joel, please. Please please, I need to cum so bad, it feels too good.”

You sound so fucking pretty, begging for him like that. “Been so good…I think you’ve earned it,” he says gently. “Go ‘head, sweetheart.”

Tommy continues to circle your clit as you clench around Joel’s cock, uttering quiet praises in your ear. 

You tighten around him and Joel’s right there, right there—and then you say, “Cum with me, Joel, please. Cum with me, I wanna feel it.”

And it sends him over the edge. His name in your mouth, begging him to fill you up. He buries himself so deep inside you that there’s no telling where he ends and you begin, and it’s the best orgasm he’s ever had in his fucking life. 

You shudder beneath him and Joel leans forward, pressing his forehead to your spine. He thrusts into you until the last drop, giving you all of it, giving you everything he has to offer.

As you come down, Tommy pulls his hand from beneath you and combs his fingers through your hair. He’s got that stupid grin on his face, but Joel’s not sure he’s ever seen his brother this happy before. 

The three of you just lay there for a moment, saying nothing, unmoving, basking in the afterglow. Joel’s not quite sure how he’s meant to navigate this, not sure what he’s supposed to say or how he’s supposed to feel about the fact that the best sex he’s ever had was with his brother’s little girlfriend. 

But he does know how to take care of a woman. So, he does. Joel eases himself out of you and disappears for only long enough to find a washcloth, wet it with cool water from the bathroom sink, and grab an icy bottle of water from the fridge. 

When he returns to his bedroom, Tommy holds you in his arms while you speak to him in a hushed tone. It worries him a little, truthfully.

So when Joel sits on the side of his bed to clean the light sheen of sweat off your forehead and the mess between your legs, he asks, “Everythin’ okay?”

“Everything’s good. So, so good,” you answer easily, giving him one of those honeyed smiles.

Tommy takes the bottle of water from Joel’s hand and breaks the seal. “Drink,” he says, passing it to you. And you do, listening so obediently.

But the moment your hands are free again you say, “Joel? Can I ask you something?”

“Anything,” he says. And he means it. Whatever it is you need, whatever it is you want, Joel wants to give to you. He’s come to understand his brother in this, too.

“Do you think you’d want to…I don’t know. Maybe we could do it again?”

He laughs. Genuinely, truly laughs, because Tommy’s been right this whole time. You’re insatiable.

But you quickly amend your words. Saying, “I mean, not…not now. But maybe…maybe I could stay? For the weekend?”

Joel finds the thought of you leaving at the end of the night an unbearable one. And he knows he’ll likely feel the same once Sunday evening rolls around, and he’s not quite sure what that means for him or you or Tommy…but maybe it’s not something he has to worry about today. 

He kisses your forehead and says, “‘Course you can, sweetheart.”

And then you’re reaching for him again, urging him beneath the sheets. You lay your head on Joel’s chest and drape your leg over Tommy’s hip, and you look so at ease, so peaceful that his heart constricts at the sight. You’re so good, so sweet, and Joel thinks he’d do anything to keep you happy.

Later, as your soft snores and shallow breaths fill the silence, Tommy playfully kicks Joel in the shin and says, “Ain’t no use tryin’ to talk yourself off the ledge, brother. Easier to just enjoy the freefall. Take it day by day.”

Joel thinks his brother might be right. Thinks that this might get complicated and messy and dangerous…but for now, for today…he’ll savor the sugary sweetness while it lasts.

[emma045]

[rae-pss]

masterlist

˗ˏˋ꒰ 💭 ꒱ . . . i was merely bored during class, so here you all have a silly romantic drabble with characters I believe match it.

˗ˏˋ꒰ 💭 ꒱ . . . 178 words, fluff, lowercase intended.

delicacy. that was the word that best defined how he looked at you, touched you, loved you. he did everything with caution and subtlety, with an irrational fear of harming you with the slightest of a wrong move on his part. 

his words, few or abundant, made evident the love that he alone possessed for you. almost as if an adoration of your name was given by every sentence that came from his lips. 

his actions, slow and gentle or quick and fleeting, left a warm feeling, a desire for more loving touches between the two of you. 

his love for you... infinite like numbers, like time, like the universe itself. the passion he felt was deep like no other. a clear devotion to your person that could only make you blush like nothing else could ever do. 

he could be one of the most dangerous, most unpredictable beings and whatever one may say; but, for you, he was a mere lover lost in your undeniable beauty, one he was so determined to worship that he couldn't be deterred. 

alucard (hellsing), lucifer, diavolo, barbatos, solomon (obey me), ares (hades), hades, poseidon, beelzebub (snv/ror), alt gabriel (mandela catalogue), malleus (twst), chrollo (hxh), childe, (genshin impact), akaza (kny), fyodor, dazai, mori, jouno (bsd), risotto (jbba), satoru, sukuna (jjk)

[hypnos333]

My Heavens

Lucifer Morningstar x Ex Wife Reader Gabriel x Wife Reader

Pt 1- left her behind

Synopsis: You moved on and had a kid with another archangel

You gave birth throughout those centuries to twins, Caelum and Kailani. A boy and girl both have your color hair and eyes but your husband personally a shyness. Also both archangels.

You happily watch them grow with you husband as you both teaches them how to guide people into hopefulness and into following God.

Now they’re one hundred and ninety five years old in age and you are proud of them even though there still kinda of teenagers. You and gabriel were still proud but now with the extermination coming up you had to put your family first no matter the cost.

During the meeting with Charlie Morningstar that’s when you started feeling under the weather making you children go with their father instead of you going sick.

Charlie went up to your daughter mistaking it as you, “Woah Dad was right you are beautiful but you looks so young, Oh Right i’m Charlie you must be ___. My dad has been talking about you nonstop” Charlie rambled making Kailani raise her eyebrows.

“Sorry to burst your bubble but ___ is actually my mother” Kailani stated, “Both of our mother” Caelum add making Charlie look at the twins in shock.

“W-What?” Charlie asks as Vaggie approaches her.

“Yep sweetheart, we’re twins, Shocked? You are the only one that is” Caelum said rolling his eyes the princess stupidness. Kailani slapped her brother on the back of his head before laughing it off.

“Haha ignore my brother, it’s just your the only one who doesn’t noticed our similarities” Kailani said more kindly.

Vaggie pulls a still shock Charlie back to there seats but before they even made it Gabriel landed in front of them. “A-Ah Charlie, Vaggie I see you have met my children, my apologies about them they’re about bit of a hand full like they’re mother” He joked making Charlie gape at him.

“You and ___ had kids???” She questions him trying to get answers for her dad.

“Well of course married and have a new child on the way” Gabriel chuckled making Charlie feel bad about her dad not having this future with his first love.

“Ah I see well congratulations” She faked a smile as she congratulated him and his family.

“Thank you Miss. Morningstar and I hope you have the future you want” Gabriel said before flying away to his children.

After the meeting, Lucifer waited impatiently to hear the news from Charlie.

“What did ya hear Charlie? Did she accept me back to her life?” He asked his daughter hopefully making her looked down before grabbing his hand and slowly putting her wedding ring back into his hand. His smile drop looking at his daughter in fear.

“I’m so sorry dad but she’s married to another archangel named Gabriel and had twins the same age as me with another one on the way” Charlie explained to him.

Lucifer tried to hold into his tears but couldn’t as he sobs falling down to the floor. Charlie hold her dad as he sobs in her shoulder. “I-It’s all my f-fault” He cries out making Charlie console him.

[via-l0ve]

Hey pookie, how are you! I was wondering if you could do a romantic spn pref for sam, dean, castiel, crowley, and gabe? The plot would be that they're on a hunt with the reader and they have to infiltrait a strip club. The reader is female so she poses as a striper (she wears a white angle outfit). At one she pulls she pulls one of the guys into a private room to talk about the plan, but they see a camera in the room so the reader gives the guy a lap dance while explaining the plan as to not get caught. There is alot of sexual tension, and the guys have a crush on the reader. At this point they're only friends though. Thanks girl!

Private. (SPN Pref!) ❤️

a/n: i devoured this prompt. i am in heat. i hope you like this pookie!!!

warnings: SUGGESTIVE!!! read at your own risk, strip club, stripper!reader, lap dances, grinding, no actual smut but nsfw xx

Dean:

dean didn’t imagine this being his wednesday night.

his eyes watched you on the stage, walking around and pretending to be busy. the dainty Angel costume you were wearing hugged you in all the right places - just enough for him to imagine more.

in his distraction, he dosent realize you’re trying to get his attention.

he was suddenly pulled into one of the back, private rooms. he looked over and met your pretty eyes. he smiled.

“dean, i got info.” you smiled, closing and locking the door behind you both.

he was going to respond but his eyes caught something else. a camera. it seemed like you noticed too because you sighed.

dena watched you pull the chair to where the camera faced.

“sit.” you said in a seductive voice.

it’s just for the bit.’ dean reminded himself. he shakily sat down.

you walked toward him, back facing the camera. his eyes widened and face blushed as you started to give him a lap dance.

he was stiff as a board, too nervous to move.

“at least pretend you like it. we have to sell it so we don’t get caught.” you whisper in his ear, pressing kisses to his jawline.

shivers went down his spine and he nodded, grabbing onto your hips.

he stared into your eyes as you spoke, only being able to focus on the feeling of your hips on his, moving and grinding against him. his jaw clenched and he bit his lip, rubbing your hips with his thumbs.

you spoke about the case but he could barley hear you.

eventually you stopped, smiling at him.

“pay up, lover.” you grinned playfully.

he tried to hide his boner, giving you a forced smile as you walked away. his breath heavy and cheeks beet red.

—

Sam:

sam was nose deep in one of his papers of his research he scraped together. his cheeks were red, trying not to look up at you.

not because he didn’t want to - no. he wanted to. more than anything. but if he did, he knew he wouldn’t be able to look away.

despite his efforts, when he felt a hand on his shoulder he had to look up. it was you.

the white angel outfit you were wearing caught his attention. it was tight and revealing, something he wasn’t used to seeing you in.

“come with me.” you lean down and whisper to him. he just nodded, following you.

he then found himself sitting on a chair in one of the back rooms.

“there’s cameras. i have to play my part sammy.” you said to him, and he nodded

“anything you want.”

he blushed again as you started to give him a lap dance. his eyes widened.

you spoke softly about the case, but he could only focus on your body and how it moved atop of his own.

he pretended he was listening, but he was struggling. only feeling the fogginess of his mind and the weight of your body on his lap.

it was over much too soon for his liking

you got off of him and smiled.

“maybe we do this more often.” you said with a smirk.

—

Castiel:

poor boy

remember when he first went to the strip club

that’s him but x10 when he sees you

he’d never seen you in such clothing. not that he was complaining at all. if anything, he was ecstatic about it.

when you met his eyes from across the room, he got up and walked toward you immediately. you didn’t even have to ask (😍)

he followed you into the back rooms.

“cas. i gotta give you a lap dance.”

“what?”

“i’ve gotta play my part. is this okay?”

“…yes?”

castiel didn’t know what a lap dance was.

so when you started to actually do it

wowowowowow

he was gobsmacked.

his hands rested on your waist and he let you do whatever you had to do.

he bit back moans as he was so sensitive

but he listened intently to what you had to say about the case. his hips moved slightly with your body and his face was bright red.

he focused on your words but his eyes drank in how you moved against him and how his hands squeezed your hips

he could feel his dick throbbing against his jeans but he knew he couldn’t do anything about it

you got off of him eventually and he stayed sitting.

“c’mon. we gotta go.” you grinned and walked out before him. he was left with shaking hands and a red face.

—

Crowley:

he watched all of the people at the club with wandering eyes, stopping when he saw you

your outfit fit you perfectly and hugged you in all the right places

crowleys eyes wandered down your body as you came closer to him.

“come.” you said softly, leading him to the private rooms. he smirked.

“now, i didn’t know you wanted this, y/n.”

you just smirk and sit him down in the chair.

you start the lap dance, bringing your mouth close to his ear and whispering the plan to him, grinding your hips against his.

his hands ran over your body and hips, feeling the curves of your body and the softness of your skin

he was grinning, listening to the plan while also enjoying the thrusts and movements of your body

he wanted you to continue for hours. days. forever

but when you got off of him, he had to refrain from pulling you back onto his lap.

—

Gabe:

his eyes were on you from the start

he watched you with a passion, drinking in your appearance and how your white costume looked on your body.

the body he’d dreamed about seeing for months

that’s why he follows you into the back room without question

that’s also why he has to bite back moans when you start grinding against his lap, dancing

he watches with wide eyes, trying to listen to your words but drowning them out as he squirmed against your body weight

he gripped your hips and waist just a little bit too hard

he nodded along to the plan he wasn’t following, just watching your hips and body against his own

he let a groan slip from his lips at one point

his hips moving in rut him with your own

literally driving him insane.

but he’s not complaining

[magicalbunbun]

I draw this while listening to "Everyone adores you" by Matt Maltese...

I almost cry from looking at this..

Y/n is archangel gabriel, the oldest sister, she represents a dove. back then she was the one who rise the younger siblings witch is lucifer... the lore will be explained much more after I'm done with it

(this is not for mocking the real archangel gabriel or for jokes, I respect all religions)

[ghoastixx]

SPN Boys w/ angel wing tattoo gn! reader

Synopsis: The Supernatural boys reaction to finding out you have angel wings tattooed onto your back.

Warnings: Mention of possible innuendos

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

Dean

When he sees them for the first time, he's suspicious. He's seen angels, knowing how tricky they can get.. Perhaps you were just another trick of Heaven to make him vulnerable. He doesn't like it

Once you both confirm that no, you are in fact not an angel, he chills out about it a bit.

Definitely asks you if you regret it now that you both know how big of dicks angels are.

Doesn't really ask about it. The most he would do is get drunk and ask why you got it but that's it. He really doesn't care much.

As much as he's indifferent about it, he'd eventually grow to adore it.

"Hey! Angel!" Castiel looks over, "No, not you. Y/N."

I personally think he would like to look at them. He would like it if you wore shirts with the back showing or no shirt at all.. He just wants to see them.

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

Sam

Much like his brother, he's a little suspicious at first, would interrogate you.

"Y/N," "Yes Sam?" "What's that tattoo for?" "Which tattoo." "On your back." "Angel wings?" "Yes." "Just liked them." "Oh."

He would trust you, especially if you have other tattoos that don't have to do with hunting or the such.

Would ask you about them, constantly referring to them as "Your wings."

A long day of interrogation of a town? He's patting the spot next to him on the small motel bed saying, "C'mere, I'll rub your wings for 'ya."

Messy hunt? "Go clean your wings off, Y/N."

It's even funnier if Dean doesn't know about the tattoo. He's so confused as to why his brother keeps mentioning you having wings. Assumes it's sexual.

He just..adores them? In a way he feels as if you are an angel sent to keep him in line.

He'd rather have you than other angels anyways.

Would 100% call you angel out of it. Forget any other nickname he may of been trying out, you are now just angel.

"So, angel, get this.."

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

Castiel

He doesn't understand at first. At all. He will ask you about it.

"Why are you pretending to be an angel?" "Excuse me?" "You have wings drawn on.." "Oh, my tattoo?"

Once you explain it to him, he calms down a bit, but he's still a bit confused. Why did you get it, why angel wings? Why the specific design? Why on your back? Did it hurt? Lots of questions.

He likes them. Why wouldn't he? It makes him feel closer to you in a way.

Dean will refer to you two as "the match made in heaven."

It's cheesy.

I think Castiel would like tracing over them with his finger, dedicating it to mind.

He likes having something in common with you, in a way. He thinks it's endearing.

"Y/N," "Yes, angel?" "Take your shirt off," "Oh-Cas-" "I would like to examine your tattoo."

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

Gabriel

Oh this cocky bastard.

He's honored, for starters, or at least that's what he says.

"oh-Baby, what's that you got there?" "Gabriel, what are you talking about." "Those delicious wings you've been hiding from me."

He understands the concept of tattoos more than Castiel does, so he doesn't have too many questions.

He just thinks that they are hot, and honestly he is so valid for that.

"I mean- these are almost better than the real things!"

He likes to tease you about them, since he's in fact the inspo.

But, happy spouse is a happy house, he does constantly talk about how much he likes them. Constantly.

"C'mon sugar, let me see them again, please???" He loves to look at it, touch it, etc.

He gets sad when he remembers you don't actually have wings.

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

Lucifer

I do not think he'd be a fan.

Sure, he stands you as a human, but.. a human pretending to be an angel?

"Darling, you realize you're not an angel, correct?" "Yes, Luci." "Just making sure."

Sure, he wouldn't say anything about it to drive you away, but he thinks you have a lot of nerve.

He doesn't like to think about it too much.

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

Crowley

Bud does not really like them much due to what they represent but he really doesn't care.

He'd go so far as to just call you an angel to go along with it.

he's really indifferent about it :/

[ourloveisforthelovely]

To the Ends of the Earth Part 21

Supernatural

Pairings: Gabriel x Reader

Rating: Mature

Summary:  AU Supernatural. Gabriel is tired of Micahel and Raphael’s constant interfering and dictating what’s best for him. Little do they know that he’s been sneaking to earth to fall in love with you. When he convinces you to run away with him, all hell is about to break loose.

Link to Part 20

________

1 week later…

You lay with Gabriel on the couch snuggled against his side as some tv show played unnoticed in the background. Halfway through, whatever show it was, you closed your eyes and snuggled further against Gabriel. He placed one of his hands over yours that you had laid on his chest. Neither of you had said much in a while but the quiet cuddling was enough.

The last week had thankfully calmed down. Dean had slowly accepted that you were pregnant. You were positive that Dean had tracked Chuck down and threatened him real good about keeping you alive. When he came home Dean seemed to be in a lot better of a mood. You could only assume that threatening Chuck would bring that level of happiness.

Was Dean happy about you being pregnant…no. Something told you that your eldest brother wouldn’t be happy until the baby was born and you were alive.

Gabriel also wasn’t saying much about the baby-to-be. While you didn’t expect him to be excited, you wished he would “open up.” The best that you could assume was your lover would be like Dean. While he wasn’t as on edge as Dean was, you could still sense Gabriel’s nervousness. His eyes were always on you now. He seemed to be watching every move that you made while being totally prepared to smite whatever could harm you in the slightest.

“Maye that is his love language when it comes to the baby?”

That was the best thought that you could formulate. Gabriel had told you a few days prior that he could sense the baby’s heartbeat. The look in his eyes when he said those words and how he stroked his fingers over your still flat stomach gave you some hope as to his feelings.

Minus, the baby on the way, everything else with Gabriel was just like usual. You were thankful for that at least. If Gabriel turned off the love supply, you would have totally fallen apart. From the brief bit of the baby book that you had read (until you got to the part about birthing pictures and nearly vomited) apparently, a woman’s sex drive was supposed to increase.

“…Yep, that’s happening.”

“How are you feeling?”

Gabriel asked softly, pulling you from your thoughts. He originally didn’t want to wake you but the quiet of the room was beginning to drive him nuts. Gabriel wouldn’t say it but his anxiety went into near overdrive whenever you were quiet for long periods. Yes, he was able to check you over at any time but hearing your voice seemed to make all of his worries go away. You yawned snuggling further into his side instantly making the worry within Gabriel vanish.

“Fine. My stomach hurts a bit but I suppose that I should get used to that.”

Gabriel put a finger to your head and the sick feeling instantly vanished. He gave you a sheepish little smirk before moving to kiss your forehead.

“I guess that will be a benefit of having a baby with me. I can make all of the nasty…side effects go away.”

“That will be definitely useful.”

You replied before yawning again. Gabriel moved to stroke a hand down your back toward the waistband of your jeans.

“Before you get too comfortable…”

He started but stopped suddenly and sat up. You gave him a curious frown as Amelia came running in with a small box in her hand. It took all you had to stop yourself from smirking at the annoyed expression on Gabriel’s face. If Dean were in the room, you were 100% positive that mentions of being “cock blocked” would have come up.

“Hi, shorty. What do you have there?”

You asked, sitting up. Amelia was nearly bouncing up and down. Gabriel raised an eyebrow before smirking. The little girl reminded him so much of you it felt as if he was looking into a mirror.

“Uncle Dean got me a guinea pig! I named her Snickerdoodle!”

You instantly looked up to Dean as he stepped into the room with a shit-eating grin on his face. He gave you a small shrug before you turned back to your niece who had fished the petrified-looking animal out of the box.

“Oh, that’s nice. She’s lovely, sweetie. Does your daddy know about Snickerdoodle?”

Amelia shook her head and shoved some of her dark hair out of her face.

“I see. Maybe you should…oh look there’s Sam now.”

Sam automatically sighed. He hated that tone. He knew “that” tone. Something was up and something told him that it involved him somehow.

“I love conversations that start like this.”

Amelia ran over to Sam nearly hopping up and down with delight.

“Uncle Dean got me a guinea pig!”

Sam automatically scowled at Dean. This was the last thing that he wanted to get involved with too. Between a pregnant sister who would be giving birth to an archangel’s baby, his own child, dealing with Michael, and all of the other kinks involved with being a Winchester…Sam just didn’t have a “guinea pig” in him.

“Uh huh…he did, did he? Amelia…guinea pigs are…”

Sam tried to think of the right word. He looked up at Gabriel.

“Violent?”

Gabriel suggested, earning a scowl from both Sam and yourself. He only gave you a little shrug as Sam knelt down to Amelia.

“Sweetie, guinea pigs are a lot of work. Uncle Dean, Aunt Y/n, and I are really busy…I’m not sure if this is a good idea. Uncle Dean and I are gone a lot and Aunty Y/n is about to have a baby soon…”

Amelia gave Sam a pouty frown.

“I can do it. I am 5 whole years old.”

Dean made his way over to Gabriel with a smirk.

“This is your first real lesson on being a parent…how to cave.”

Gabriel’s amber eyes rolled over to Dean.

“If you give my child one of those rats, I may smite you.”

Dean quickly moved away from Gabriel shaking his head.

“Tough crowd.”

You rolled your eyes at Dean and Gabriel before turning back to Amelia who was clearly happy with her new furry friend. Her little face showed nothing but pure joy. You couldn’t help but smile at her. Ever since Amelia had moved into the bunker, you took extra care to find little things to bring her joy with. Something told you that Dean used the same excuse to bring Snickerdoodle home.

“Would you two get a room?”

You muttered before kneeling down next to Amelia.

“You really like her don’t you?”

Amelia nodded.

“Yes, aunty. She has a wiggly nose.”

Amelia then attempted to make her nose wiggle like the guinea pig that was nestled in her arms. Again, you couldn’t help but smile. You noticed a small smile grace Gabriel’s face too. You knew that he would never admit it but Amelia had grown on him. Whether it be the fact that she reminded the archangel so much of you as a child or Amelia just had her “own little way” you knew that Gabriel liked her presence.

You turned your attention to Sam, who still looked less than amused with Snickerdoodle’s arrival. Taking a breath, you leaned closer to Amelia.

“Maybe we can talk your daddy into letting Snickerdoodle stay. I can help you look after her.”

Amelia immediately squealed before nearly throwing the poor guinea pig up in the air with joy. You quickly reached out and wrapped your hands around Snickerdoodle and gave Sam a small smile. He groaned and shook his head.

“Fine. She can stay but I better not smell anything.”

Amelia nodded and wrapped her arms around Sam’s legs squealing about how he was the best daddy ever.

“What about me? I’m the one that bought the thing.”

Dean grumbled. Amelia quickly went over to Dean and gave him the same attention.

“I am winning that world’s okayest uncle cup.”

Dean said with a smirk as Cas stepped in. The frown on his face told you that something wasn’t well in the world. Standing up you inched closer to him as he muttered something to Gabriel.

Gabriel turned to you. The cutesy moment with the guinea pig was now shot to hell. He hated even mentioning Cas’ news to you.

“What is it?”

You asked softly. Gabriel sighed.

“My father is here with yet another surprise.”

Both Sam and Dean groaned, mirroring Gabriel’s reaction. You too felt a feeling of dread wash over you. While Chuck’s last visit brought you news of the baby…it also brought a feeling of darkness over the bunker that hadn’t 100% washed away.

“Oh boy this day just keeps getting better.”

You commented before turning to Jack.

“Jack, can you stay in here with Amelia?”

Jack eagerly nodded before sitting down beside Amelia, who clearly didn’t care about the business of adults at the moment.

You turned to follow your brothers and Gabriel into the library where Chuck stood with a smile on his face.

“I thought I would come back…”

Gabriel wrapped a hand around yours, keeping his eyes locked on Chuck.

“Please tell us that you aren’t here to bring more good news. We are worried enough about what you brought last time.”

Dean said. He knew that he would never stand a chance against Chuck but he could put his thoughts on matters out there. What Chuck did with said thoughts and opinions was up to him.

Chuck, meanwhile, felt his smile fade. Everyone was looking at him as if he would be declaring that the world would be ending. Gabriel was watching him with a cold frown.

“Gabriel, you can stop frowning. I haven’t brought anything bad…not really…”

“Forgive me for not trusting you.”

Gabriel said in a low cold tone.

“Gabe.”

You whispered, squeezing his hand. The last thing that you wanted to witness was Gabriel and Chuck having some kind of epic showdown.

“It's okay, Y/n. Nothing bad is going to happen. I’m actually here with a special surprise for you…well…I suppose for Sam and Dean too.”

Sam winced while Dean mumbled something about “that last time Chuck gave them a surprise it was resulting in you becoming some kind of fucked up science experiment.”

You bit your lip, not even daring to look at Chuck.

“You know, Chuck, you have really given us enough surprises. I mean…we have met our quota…maybe you should go…bless…someone else?”

Chuck smiled, shrugging.

“I was thinking about the predicament that you are in. Yeah, you have your brothers. While that’s special, you deserve to have your father in your life.”

You felt your mouth drop as John stepped out from behind Chuck.

“Oh shit.”

Dean muttered while John gave the three of you an exhausted smile. He didn’t seem to notice or care to notice how freaked out the three of you look.

“My kids.”

John was in front of you before you knew it. He looked down at you with a smile before pulling you into a hug. Standing motionless, you couldn’t remember the last time that John had actually hugged you. John was never the “touchy-feely” kind of father so this was totally out of your element.

“Y/n, sweetheart, look how much you have grown up.”

John turned to Sam and Dean following the same lead. Both of your brothers looked beyond uncomfortable too as John made what would typically sound like a heart felt sentiment.

“Dad, you’re alive…and here.”

Dean choked out as John hugged him. John nodded before turning to say something kind to Chuck but the man was nowhere to be found.

“Yeah, I am. I think I got another chance and I am so glad to see the three of you. The three of you stuck together…just like you should have.”

Sam cleared his throat.

“It wouldn’t be any other way.”

John turned back to you. The last time that he had seen you, you were just a young teenager. Now here you stood, a grown woman. John’s eyes landed on Gabriel.

“Who are you?”

Gabriel raised an eyebrow. He knew this was about to be a shit show.

Of course, it's a shit show. Anytime my father shows up it's a blasted shit show! Now, look what he’s gone and done.

“Gabriel.”

Gabriel said his name very matter-of-factly. He didn’t really feel like getting in an all-out brawl with John Winchester of you but something told you that it would happen very soon.

John, meanwhile, narrowed his eyes on Gabriel. While he expected that you, at some point, would choose a lover…he wasn’t expecting it to be now. Granted, part of him expected to come back and you still be a young girl.

“The two of you are together?”

You nodded, stepping closer to Gabriel.

“Yes, dad, we are. I’m assuming the guy that brought you here didn’t explain anything to you?”

John frowned, his eyebrows knitting together.

“What is there to talk about? I’m alive again.”

You groaned, mentally cursing Chuck under your breath. Of course, Chuck didn’t tell John Winchester the “truth” of everything going on in his children’s lives.

“Oh, there is a lot to talk about. Come on, we all need to go have a little chat.”

You replied. Meeting Sam and Dean’s eyes, you knew that this wasn’t about to be pretty.

“Dad, do you have a gun on you?”

You asked casually. John nodded. He thought this was a weird question but decided to go with it.

“Yeah, why?”

You shook your head.

“Put it on safety.”

John looked a little confused before following you into a dining room. You motioned to a seat.

“Sit down. We have a lot to talk about.”

John quietly did as he was told. His attention went back to Gabriel who was still frowning at him. Something about the way the man was looking at him made John on edge and he didn’t like it. There wasn’t something quite right with the man at your side. All of John’s hunter instincts were going on edge as he realized Gabriel wasn’t blinking.

“Yeah, I think we do, kiddo.”

John replied as Sam and Dean sat down. You didn’t even know where to start. Never in a million years did you think that you would have to explain yourself to your father ever again. When John was killed, you decide that would be the end of that…boy was you wrong!

“Dad, in the time that you have been gone…we have been through a lot. I mean like a hell of a lot. Sam, Dean, and I have gone through things that you probably wouldn’t believe…”

“Oh, I can believe a lot.”

John commented. You blinked a few times as John continued talking.

“Just tell me what it is. The three of you know that I don’t like…”

You held a hand up.

“Okay, we are in the middle of a second apocalypse. The archangel Michael is wreaking havoc in our lives. The three of us have dealt with the forces of heaven and hell, more monsters than you would care to believe, the British men of letters…I’m sure I am leaving a lot out.”

John blinked, looking totally stunned. He didn’t exactly expect to hear all of that.

“Are you joking?”

You weren't quite sure but for some reason, you started laughing. The last thing that you really wanted was to argue with your father about what you had really done over the past few years. John didn’t know the hell that the three of you had gone through over the years. You did. Sam and Dean did. John did not.

“No dad, I’m not joking. Oh, there’s more. Dean and I are dating angels and I’m pregnant.”

Gabriel stared at you with his mouth open. He honestly expected you to tell John a little more gently but no. You just threw that on him like a wet blanket.

“Surprise.”

Gabriel said with a smirk on his face as John turned to him. It made sense! It all made sense now. John now could see why Gabriel wasn’t blinking in addition to the cold distant expression on his face.

“You’re an angel and she’s pregnant?”

Gabriel nodded.

“That is what she said.”

John shook his head.

“I don’t believe it.”

Gabriel waited a moment before snapping his fingers and disappearing. The room was silent before Gabriel turned up beside you.

“Do you know anyone else that can do that because I sure as hell don’t?”

John jumped up, knocking the chair that he was sitting in over.

“Holy shit! You are an angel!”

Gabriel nodded.

“Yep, not just an angel. I’m an archangel. I warn you, human, don’t make move near her or I will smite you back to where you came from.”

John snarled.

“Get away from my daughter.”

Gabriel shook his head before freezing John where he stood.

“I can’t do that.”

John growled before turning his attention to Sam and Dean.

“You two just let this happen? I told the two of you to watch your sister! Letting her get knocked up by a rouge archangel isn’t part of keeping an eye on her.”

You, meanwhile, suddenly remembered your voice.

“Hold on a minute, dad. You don’t get to come here and start things like this. Sam and Dean did everything that they were supposed to and more. You are my father. You should have been there for us and you weren’t! Don’t you dare give me shit about being on hunts either. It shouldn’t have been Dean’s job to look after Sam and me the way he did. He was our mother and father more than you ever were. He didn’t get to be a kid. I’m my own damn person and make my own decisions. Sam, Dean, and I look out for each other but they don’t tell me what to do and you aren’t either. Chuck may have brought you back but you aren’t going to come in here and order us around. For once, we have our lives figured out and we are just fine with it.”

You turned and walked from the room without another word. Gabriel, turned back to John for a moment.

“It’s so lovely to see that you are still the same human that you were years ago. Excuse me, my wife needs me.”

Gabriel put extra emphasis on the word “wife.” He knew it would antagonize John all the more and he didn’t care….

_______

@amelie-black @jessyballet @knreidy1 @acciosiriusblack @siriuslyceleste @georgeweasleydumbhoe @justfinishthis @coffeeaddictednymph @millies0bsimp @fific7 @rogue-nyx88 @readtomeregulus @starsvck @daddyslittlevillain @panpride @saramaple @f4iryluvy @s-we-e-t-t-ea @taylor-will-be-the-death-of-me @missgorldafirst @buttercup-beeee @padf00ts-l0ver @goldensunshineshit @haroldpotterson @aurorasnape12 @stelleduarte @mentally-unstable-hoe @quinis @jag9000 @gugggu6gvai @yousmellllikecaca @lostarc @un-lovesherself @play-morezeppelin @ravenhood2792 @bennyberry @mimisparkle12 @teletubiswszpilkach @rubyroscoe1 @ad-astra-again @criminalyetminimal @lucasfilms77 @spideyxalmighty @brokencasbutt67-writer @authoressskr @moldy-old-boot @summer-novak @hankypranky @deanwherescas @shitfaceddaniel-blog @sprnaturallover @knight-of-gleefulness @wontlookaway @marichromatic @mycuddlycorner @li0nh34rt @tastefullyoffensive @melaninnbarbie @untoldshortsofthefandoms

[moodstabilizr]

gabriel luna is so fuckin fine can not wait to see him commit atrocities <3

[velovw]

How would OW characters love you?

(Ft. Reaper, Genji, Ramattra, Hanzo, Venture and Cassidy)

A/N: It's been quite a while, but I'm happy to share a little thing I've written.

Reaper

At first, Gabriel would refuse the idea of being in love. There was no way the thing he had become was deserving of love - nor did you deserve to be with anything like him. The confession would probably come from you, or the feelings you two have for each other would simply be locked away and forgotten with time. Unsure touches, hesitancy in communication would plague your relationship early on, leading to frustrating fights and time spent apart.

Gabriel had spent so long being Reaper, that he had forgotten how to treat another gently, softly. Years of being one of Talon’s obedient and ruthless weapon left him scarred, almost a husk of the man he one day was. Patience, lots of it, would be needed to build a healthy relationship with him. With time, he would slowly start to mimic the actions you did to him - learning from you on how to love and be loved - this could lead to Gabriel learning to love you just the way you want him to.

Not big on romantic gestures, and doesn’t like PDA. He has an underlying fear that if anyone were to find about his weak spot for you, it would mean harm your way.

Genji

A cupid 's arrow.

It would not take him long to recognize the emotions he was experiencing, as the excitement and exhilaration of a new love were familiar to him due to his youth. The anxiety and giddy feelings were difficult to overlook or ignore. He would not hesitate to express his feelings, as he was quick at noticing if someone reciprocated his affections based on their reactions to his affections. He was accustomed to this aspect of a relationship and would confidently touch and remain close to the person he was interested in whenever possible.

Wouldn’t be able to hide your relationship, almost always bringing you up in a conversation. Excitedly calling you his partner.

Due to his past, Genji would have an underlying anxiety about performing well as a partner. He was good at sweet talk, enough to make your heart flutter - but when it came down to serious conversations and fights, he would almost shut down. In the past, whenever these things happened, he would simply dump his past partners and move on - but he didn’t want to do that now. So he would be awkward, asking you what he could do to amend the wrongs and fix the situation. He would heavily depend on you to guide him in that way.

Ramattra

Love? How futile.

He had no time for such weak emotions, no time to spend worrying over your safety when you were a human - the kind he hated with his very being. No. Ramattra only spent his attention and utmost care towards the cause he believed in.

Or that's what he desperately wanted to believe.

Every word, every moment would be recorded through his optics and stored forever in his hard-drive. Ramattra’s touches sometimes felt… ghostly. As if he was afraid of breaking you. But he was always sure to impose his threatening aura around strangers.

But the amount of stress his system felt when he saw you in the middle of the battlefield, how he was reluctant to end your life right where you stood, proved it all to him that he was *wrong*. Ramattra would take what felt like a lifetime to confess, seeing you sick and injured pushed him to it - the reminder of your mortality severely affecting him. Would try to do everything at once one day, showcasing his innocent and lack of experience in *love*.

A silent reminder of your importance.

Hanzo

Throughout the most part of Hanzo's life, there were only two things he felt the most. The bitter regret and the pain of tomorrow. Losing everything came at a great cost and it shined clearly when you met Hanzo for the first time, when you tried to befriend him - the look in his eyes. Hanzo would avoid you emotionally once he feels… different. Part of him knows what he feels but another one denies it with all of his strength. Not for pride, simply because he's afraid of losing once again.

A wall to talk to. His indifference at the start would drive you crazy, driving you away until he finally realizes how much more empty he feels with your absence. Even so, does a small act of servitude by giving you your favorite food - a small attempt to see if you still care for him. Just enough so he can *try* and allow himself to feel the gentle feeling of love.

Small smiles your way, brushing your hand with his while passing by. All small but mean so, so much for Hanzo. There is no shyness, just gentleness, and no fear of showcasing such feelings in front of others.

Venture

Spending most of their life researching and excavating did really not leave any space for romance. Venture would be quick to accept the feeling, the rush of adrenaline and giddy feeling quickly taking over their mind as they realized they liked you. It would be obvious to anyone around them. The way their eyes would be searching for you in the room, quickly asking someone if they've seen you and when they do finally see you - the biggest smile they can muster.

Your name would be mentioned by them every chance they get.

A confession would take mere days, and if you weren't totally sure about them - they'd at least hope you'd let them take you out on dates so you can get to know each other better. Small trinkets of their affection would be given to you, crystals and rocks being the main source of it, secretly hoping you'd try and find the meaning of them.

Their only flaw is being overly excited about the feeling, sometimes overly romanticizing you and getting disappointed when you don't reach their standards.

Cassidy

Smooth.

Cassidy would recognize the blush that would dust his cheeks when you were around, how he seemed to want to impress and sweet talk you. That would be his way of gaining your favor slowly, calling you sweet nicknames and trying to charm you with his words. A small brush of his shoulders on yours, opening doors for you and tipping his hat when he passes by - all small acts that are meant to sweep you off of your feet.

A relationship would bloom slowly, as he would like to ride out the early fluttering feeling of love. Going through all the small showcases such as holding your hand, gifting you something meaningful before taking you out on a date and asking you two to finally be oficial. To everyone else around you, it was clear that Cassidy was courting you - and no one else dared to attempt anything. Whispers of his past holding them back on doing so.

Cassidy’s flaw would be being too warm or too cold. Either giving you hurtful but helpful advice, or comforting and unhelpful ones. It would solely depend on his mood, but you can always tell when he doesn't really wanna make decisions. Sometimes he just wants to exist, to let himself breath without any worries.

[esthercore]

do halovians have mating dance?? do ravens have mating dance?? are halovians even inspired from raven psyche? imagine sunday hopping around you cause he's horny and squeeking or robin doing the t pose, her wings spreading and singing but not like humans but chirping

[academic-vampire]

𝔦𝔣 𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔶 𝔡𝔬𝔫’𝔱 𝔴𝔞𝔫𝔱 𝔶𝔬𝔲…

… ℑ 𝔴𝔦𝔩𝔩 𝔱𝔞𝔨𝔢 𝔠𝔞𝔯𝔢 𝔬𝔣 𝔶𝔬𝔲