#regularly forgets to shut the door

[orchidsarchives]

fuck it here’s some dating firefighter!jason headcanons… there’s one suggestive pick up line at the very end, link to pt. ii here

- He often leaves your shared home in a chaotic state— hair disheveled, shoe laces untied and a piece of toast hanging from his mouth

- However despite his hastiness, Jason never seems to forget to kiss you goodbye. His lips would connect with the plump skin of your cheeks first and then travel to your lips. He’d mutter small a “I’ll see you tonight,” and send you a quick wink before running out the door

- He laughs at your jokes and always continues the bit. If you make a fire joke/pun, you know he’s about to make a million more

- “I don't need a fire alarm to tell me that you're on fire.” “Jay come up with something better please”

- Jason works late at the station, so on days where you have some free time, you bring him a shawarma from his favourite restaurant. He’s always surprised, but so unbelievably happy at the same time. If he’s not too busy, you’ll stay and steal a couple bites of his wrap while he tells you about his day

- He brags about you to his coworkers. Like a lot. They all know you by name and they often tease Jason for not shutting the fuck up, they’re tired of hearing about you (actually they’re just jealous)

- Jason is really protective over you, especially in public spaces. He always has his hand on the small of your back or has your hands interlocked. He guides you through crowds and makes sure to keep close. On the off chance that you’re not near him, his eyes will still be on you. It’s never weird or overbearing though, he’s protective, but he’s not over the top

- he regularly watches crime and law enforcement shows with you and has a habit of pointing out inaccuracies (especially when the fire department’s involved). It’s annoying because he talks a lot, but also, it’s so cute when he gets worked up over the small details

- “The fire escape isn't the only thing I want to go down on.” “JASON WHAT THE FUCK WHY WOULD YOU SAY THAT…!! ;)”

[wheresarizona]

but he’s the one I want

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

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

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

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

word count: 11.5k+

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

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

Main Masterlist

Knock, knock, knock. 

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

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

His eyebrows furrow in confusion when he sees you. 

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

University of Houston—go, Cougars!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Maybe he’d give it to you now…

“I’m sorry, darlin’, I don’t.” 

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

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

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

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

“Are you sure?” you ask. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s really no big deal.” 

“Thank you, but I’m good.” 

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

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

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

You smile. “Sure—lead the way.” 

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

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

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

“Legally…?”

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

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

“Sounds great.” 

“Okay.” He nods. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes. A few times.” 

Because it’s your dad’s favorite movie. 

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

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

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

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

“What…?”

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

It takes you a second to process what he asked. 

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

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

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

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

Yep, with your father. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“A good something or a bad something?” 

“A good somethin’.” 

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

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

“A very good something.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Why do you wanna know?” 

“I’m nosy.” 

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

“That’s what I said.” 

“No other reason?” 

“Can’t think of any.” 

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

“Nope.” 

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

“What’s so shocking about that?”

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

Those butterflies in your stomach are flapping around again. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Joel?” 

His face lifts to meet your gaze. 

“Yeah?” 

“You’ve dated some truly shitty women.” 

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

“That is such a shame.” 

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

“Why am I trouble?” 

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

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

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

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

And then he pauses. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah…?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You smile. “Really?” 

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

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

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

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

“Yes.” 

“I can touch you?” 

“Anywhere.” 

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

“Yes.” 

“Good girl,” he purrs. 

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

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

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

“Yes.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh, I’m very interested in you.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

His head lifts to look you in the eye. 

“Darlin’?”

“Yes, Joel?” 

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

It makes you laugh, and he smiles. 

“Ain’t that the truth,” you reply. 

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

What a gentleman. 

“Absolutely.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oh. 

Oh no. 

You’re fucked. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Yeah, you’re totally and completely fucked. 

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

Why does that make you want him more? 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah?” 

“Yes.”

“You still wanna fuck?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Of course, sweetheart.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He was right, though. It did fit. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Am I fuckin’ you good?” 

“Yes!” 

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

“Look at me,” he orders. 

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

He slows, his gaze on yours. 

“You wanna be mine?” he asks. 

“Yes.” 

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

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

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

A shiver moves through you, and you gulp. 

“Yes.” 

“Good girl.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

What were you thinking?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It baffles me that you’re single.” 

“Why?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Stop that.” 

“Stop what?” 

“Tryin’ to pretend nothin’ happened.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh—really?” 

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m yours,” you answer. 

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

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

“Hey, Asshole!” a man calls. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Go home, Tommy,” he says. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No, but—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

He sighs. “So, that was my brother.” 

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

“Yeah.” 

“That explains how annoying he is.” 

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

“We have the house to ourselves?” 

“We do—I walked him out myself.” 

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

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

“Yes. No clue how.” 

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

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

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

Joel’s behind you in just his sweatpants. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Out.” 

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

The door loudly closes as he leaves. 

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

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

He turns and pulls you into his arms.

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

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

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

“It’s just everything Tommy said.” 

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

“What?” you ask.

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

The sweetest man and the best father.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes.” He nods. 

“Alone?” 

“I sleepwalk.” 

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

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

“You really want me to hang out here?”

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

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

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

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

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

Main Masterlist

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[sethsclearwater]

How would the pack react to finding their imprint asleep either at one of the other imprints house or somewhere and someone is being really loud and they don't want their imprint to wake up because they know they have trouble sleeping at night

love this! i did a similar one for paul a while back and you can find that one linked here but i thought it would be fun to do one for seth too so here you go!

seth's touch was featherlight as he traced his fingers up and down your side, watching as you got some much needed sleep. for the first time in nearly a week, you looked at peace as you slept curled up under the covers of the plaid sheets of his old bedroom. despite the fact that the two of you had moved into your own place on the res, you still regularly found yourself at sue's house throughout the week.

"seth!" he'd heard jared calling his name from outside before jared even entered the house, seth's hearing and jared's unusually loud voice making it easy to hear him. though, this knowledge never made jared any quieter, and seth was starting to believe he made himself louder just to spite everyone.

he leaned down to press his lips to your temple before he slid his hand out from under your shirt, smiling to himself when you whined and rolled over, clearly already missing his touch, "i'll be right back," his voice was a whisper as he reassured before he was getting up to go figure out what jared wanted.

"seth!" jared's voice was somehow louder this time as seth quickly and quietly closed the bedroom door behind him as he headed downstairs to the front door where jared was quite impatiently waiting for him.

"i'm coming," he rolled his eyes, his voice a normal level as he was apparently one of the only members of the pack to have figured out that they didn't need to yell for them to hear each other.

he pulled the door open to reveal jared cameron who couldn't have looked less bothered by seth's annoyance, "paul said you made some banana bread yesterday," he explained, his usual goofy smile on his face.

seth, an individual who was generally considered to be one of the most patient members of the pack, just rolled his eyes again, "this couldn't have been a text?" he asked, a quiet laugh leaving his lips as he turned around to go get some of the said banana bread. before he could get to the kitchen though, he turned back around, "wait outside - you nearly woke y/n up yelling like that," his voice was a bit more stern, waiting until jared nodded and saluted him like an idiot before seth was heading back into the kitchen.

"yes sir!" despite the warning less than 3 seconds prior, jared managed to forget to lower his voice, something he quickly realized when seth sucked in a deep breath, making haste of packaging up some banana bread for him so he could get him out of these as quickly as possible, "sorry sir!" jared quickly apologized, the sarcasm still managing to drip through his voice despite the now lowered volume.

seth did his best to fight his smile, too used to jared's antics to get mad at him for them at this point, "just take the bread and go please," a quiet, breathy laugh left his lips as he handed jared the wrapped bread.

both boys exchanged smiles, "i didn't totally wake her up, did i?" jared asked, significantly lowering his voice as he asked about you, clearly understanding and sharing seth's concern for your recent lack of sleep.

"didn't totally wake her up," seth reassured and jared's smile widened, clearly happy his regularly scheduled boisterous activities didn't completely ruin your sleep.

"that's brilliant - thanks for the bread!" his volume increased again, though not to its original level, just enough that it had seth rolling his eyes with a laugh and shutting the door.

"anytime cameron," he reassured quietly before he was heading back upstairs to the bedroom to check on you.

much to his delight, he found you still sound asleep on the bed. he padded over to you, pulling back the covers just enough to get under them with you and pull you close to his chest, "promised i'd be right back," he whispered, pressing his lips to your hair before settling into the bed.

[weasvlys]

Band Rehearsal

Rodrick Heffley x Y/N (Fem! Reader)

Warnings: Smutty, oral sex (female receiving), unprotected sex, sexual graphic content, explicit language, interrupted sex.

Word count: 1579.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Math..." you said under your breath as you looked for your book in your locker, until suddenly a hand closed it, "ahhg" you gasped, Your gaze immediately settled on the worm-eaten black nail polish, without a doubt, it was Rodrick Heffley, "What is your problem?" You asked him angrily, ever since you entered the band it seemed like he never got tired of bothering you, he had a smile from ear to ear, a bit mischievous, he clumsily put his hand on his head and his elbow on the locker, trying to... flirt?, “Band Rehearsal, at 6, and don’t be late!” he said, emphasizing the last sentence, and vanished.

It was frustrating to be with him, his joking look and his mischievous smile, always feeling his gaze on you, it made your legs tremble, and when he reached his hand a little lower on your back, a little higher on your leg, or he came a little closer than normal, you could feel your heart beating faster, and the most frustrating thing was not knowing if he did it on purpose, to make you nervous and lose focus, or worst, it simply didn't mean anything to him and he did it accidentally.

You arrived at his house, expecting the garage door to be open, however, it wasn't, frustrated you went to the front door, you rang the doorbell twice and waited for the answer from his cheerful mother, who always welcomed you with a kind smile, and regularly a "you look beautiful today", however, you didn't receive that, you heard some heavy and fast feet coming down the stairs and when the door opened you saw an agitated Rodrick, "Hello…" you said in a sigh, you could avoid getting nervous at his look, "Can I come in?" you said in a sigh, you couldn't help but get nervous at his gaze, immediately Rodrick opened the door wider, letting you into his spotless house "It's the kitchen door" he said, referring to where the garage was, as soon as you walked in and saw that, again, you were the first to arrive, "They're late.. again" you said, "Today it's just you and me", Rodrick said, that, for some reason made you feel butterflies "How come?", you ask, and Rodrick gave you a look, confirming your biggest fear, on that occasion, it would be just you and him.

The practice started, you were the vocalist, and just that time you couldn't concentrate, and you couldn't reach any note correctly, so, by the fifth time you stopped Rodrick's rhythm, he got up from his stool so hard that it almost flew away, he threw the drumsticks to the wall in front of you, that genuinely scared you, "What's wrong with you?!" You asked upset, "Y/N, this is the fifth time we do this, can't you concentrate? Y/N?!" he said, putting in front of you, "What's wrong?", his voice was starting to calm down, he looked you in the eyes, that made your voice crack, "I-I don't know..." you said, his eyebrows raised, worried, he bent down a little to be right at your level, "Y/N" he said in a sigh, almost sexual, "What's wrong?", that tender and soft way he spoke to you made you let it all out, "I'm nervous, okay?!" you said, frustrated, "And if we perform in front of an audience, will you still be nervous too?" Rodrick said, "No! I-" you tried to retort, but that one couldn't seem to get out of your throat.

"Look, here's what we'll do" he said as he sat down on the couch in front of you, "I'll sit here, I'll look at you and I need you to forget the nervousness. I won't stop until you do..." those last words seemed to have a different kind of connotation, you decided to ignore him, there was no chance to think what could be inside his mind "One.... Two... Three..." as soon as he finished you started, looking him straight in the eyes, however, by the second verse, his mischievous smile made you lose your concentration again, you suddenly shut up and lowered your gaze, Rodrick snapped his mouth, sighed and said "Have you ever heard of when we are nervous we have to imagine the audience naked?" Those words made you tremble, you nodded your head without saying more, "We'll do that, but literally" his voice became deeper, he got up from the couch, and without taking off his lustful look, he lowered his hands by the edge of his shirt and lifted it, slowly, letting you see his thin, but marked abdomen, that took your breath away "Start again" he said, "Rodrick-" you try to reply "Just do it" he said interrupting you, you rolled your eyes and started again, but after a few seconds, the smile that was forming on his lips weakened you, "Wow, I didn't think it would be that easy", he lowered his hands again, this time to his pants, he placed his slender fingers on the buckle of his belt, he opened it slowly, with a mouth open, his fingers traveled to the button of his jeans, he opened it, and pulled down his pants, revealing his boxer, where you could perfectly appreciate his bulge, big and juicy, bigger than expected. 

You could not avoid looking at his crotch and he, looking at your reaction, laughed, "Do you like what you see?", he asked laughing, he knew what he was doing, he sat down again "Start again", he commanded, but the words were not able to come out of your mouth "Do what I tell you to...", that second reply made you feel weaker, you could not resist, and you started to sing, that situation, unusually, made you concentrate a little more, but not quite, you went out of tune again and Rodrick, without saying anything, got up from the couch, came closer to your face, gave a soft and sweet kiss on your cheek, then on your jaw, on your neck, and you couldn't resist moaning, he started to lower his kisses, and when he reached your crotch he knelt in front of you, he put his fingers in the edge of your jeans, unbuttoned them, and started to pull them down, without letting his gaze off, "Keep singing", he said, almost in a whisper, and you followed his order, every note was perfect while you felt his hot breath on your panties, and without further ado, he put his cold fingers on the edge of your panties, and he began to pull them down along with his kisses.

He opened his mouth,letting his tongue out, which made a line right across your entry to your clit, where he dedicated some soft and gentle strokes, not taking his eyes off you for one second, to then the band rehearsal was officially over, and now your mouth only let out pornografic moans, which sounded across the four walls.

He stood up, looking at you to the eyes and said in a deep full of lust voice “That’s exactly what I wanted to hear���, took you by the neck and passionately kissed you, which you replied, you took your hands inside is boxer to found his big hard-rock cock, the moment you touched him he deliciously moaned, like he was dying for it to happen, “Yes~…” he said, he pulled his boxers down and you finally saw hies 9 inch dick bounced out of his jeans, with a red trobbing tip, waiting to be inside you.

“Get in the couch baby, please~…” he said, in such a desperate way, almost begging, you got in four, shaking your ass, waiting for him to enter, he places his tip on your crotch, and even he was desperate for it to happens, he started to torture you, letting it in a bit, your as soon as he did, que took it out, in exasperation, you gasped, “Please Rod… Let me feel you…” you said, you never thought you’d would he saying that, “You wanted in?” He asked, almost growling “yes… please” you responded, “how much?” He replied, letting it a bit more, “Aggh~Fuck… so much” you said, moaning, and with no further action he strucked his 9 inches right inside you, letting the wet noices out, followed by a fast in pain and pleasure “Awwh, you are so wet, and so hot…” he said, so loud that could be heard outside, he late his big cock out again, and stuck you, one more time, allowing him to feel your sweet spot, “Yes Rod!” You screamed, and all of the sudden, key noices started to sound, and the sound of the lock on the front door, “Rodrick?! I’m home!”, Mrs. Jeffrey was home, and with no hesitation you and Rodrick started to get dressed up, as quickly as you could, the steps came closer and door opend in a blink, fortunately, you where already all dressed up, “Oh! Hi hon’, didn’t knew you were home” she said, “where in a rehearsal, mom.” Rodrick said in a shaky nervous voice, “Oh, sure thing, I thing I heard you outside” she said and left the room with no further action, and laughs came out of the both of you, “Next time, we’ll do it in my place”, you said, “Next time?” Rodrick replied in that same teasing way.

[hwalovs]

Days and Nights (M)

Pairing; Mike Schmidt x reader Word count; 2635 Warnings; this is pure smut, maybe a little plot. Kissing, whining, dom/sub themes, unprotected sex (wrap it you freaks), they get right to it, breeding kink? kind of?, they'reliterallyinloveshutupbro

Description; Being the day shift guard has its perks, you get to leave at midnight, you get to leave for lunch while all the fast food restaurants were still open, and you get to see the cute night shift guard before you leave.

A/N; i am feral for this man, I don't know what happened. one day i watched the movie, the next im frothing at the mouth for another white boy. this is so short i might write something longer for him.

after finding my fic reposted on wattpad, I'm going to make clear; DO NOT REPOST THIS WITHOUT ASKING OR WITHOUT PROPER CREDIT.

I will only let this pass once, as for my other fics, DO NOT REPOST THEM.

THIS IS NOT EDITED

Mike was hired two months before you, first seeing you before he started his nightly shift at the pizzeria. You were standing outside, reading through a book before looking up when you heard his car door shut. You smiled, and dropped your book back into your bag before walking over. Your car was parked further away from his, but you went out of your way to walk up to him. 

From then on, you two were friends, always seeing each other after your shift and before his. You always made sure his badge was straight, and he always made sure to tell you to get home safe. Sometimes you both would stop to ask each other about your days, he talked about his sister, and you talked about your cats. 

One day, he got there a little early, wanting to get in and use his time to sleep, to try and find more clues about what happened to his brother. He found you asleep at the security desk. Snoring softly, the monitors flickering in and out. He smiled, setting his stuff down besides yours before walking closer, bending down so he could see you more clearly. One of your cheeks was squished against your arm, your breathing even. 

“(Y/n),” he cooed, reaching up to move a piece of your hair. You stir, slowly opening your eyes before realizing who it was in front of you. Shooting up, you rub your eyes and stutter, looking at him, and then the clock.

“I’m sorry! I didn’t even realize I fell asleep!”

He smiles, standing back up and leaning against the desk. He watched you rush around with tired eyes, collecting your stuff while rattling on how active the animatronics were. 

He found you like once or twice, but never regularly. Sometimes he would find a forgotten coffee cup, and he would smile before throwing it away. It was the little things about you that he was slowly picking up on. He remembered each one, and wanted to learn more about you. 

Mike knew he was in too deep when you were getting ready to leave one day, packing up the rest of your stuff and flashing him that dazzling smile you always did. It made him forget the Dream Theory book resting in his bag, or the pills that accompany it. He forgot for just a second why he was there so early, why he was itching to fall asleep at the desk in the first place. 

You stand from the chair, badge catching the light, and when you sigh and roll your neck, whimpering at the tight knot, he shivers. He shouldn't, he knows that, you're his coworker, someone who endures the same nightmare he did- but he couldn’t stop the thoughts of you underneath him, whimpering as he sunk deeper inside you, stopping when his hips were flush against-

“Mike!” 

Your voice felt like ice water, rattling him until he was back in reality. He shifts, hoping that his sweatshirt covers how hard he was. There was a small part of him, deep within his brain, that did hope you saw, that you’d offer to help him. 

“Yeah?” He clears his throat, swallowing when his mouth waters. Smiling, you tilt your head, and he feels his stomach drop. 

“Did you hear me?”

He curses himself, “yeah! Yeah.”

Your eyes narrow, “what did I say, then?”

You were teasing him. You had to be, you were smiling again, and as you walked closer, he tried to rack his brain, trying to remember what you were saying. 

“Cat got your tongue?” Your voice is quiet, and you’re right in front of him. He can smell your perfume, can see the shine of your chapstick that's on your lips. 

“I- uh-”

“You’re so cute,” you chuckle, and it throws him off balance. He almost falls from the whiplash you’ve given him. You usually don’t stop to talk to him like this, you usually pack up and bid your goodbyes, warning him on the animatronics movement- but with how close you were, that he could smell your perfume, he realized he didn’t care. You were here, in front of him, calling him cute.

“What?”

You lean in close this time, your breath tickling his ear. 

“You heard me, Mike. Or are you lost in your thoughts again?”

Your lips press against his and it's the only thing he can think about. Your lips taste like strawberries, and your mouth tastes exactly like he thought it would. Your hands are in his hair, and his are gripping your waist tightly. 

He wonders when he’ll wake up, if this is a dream. When you lightly bite his lip, he moans, and comes to the conclusion that you’re real, and you’re kissing him. 

Pushing you both from the doorway, he backs you up to the desk. Kicking the chair away, he blindly reaches behind you to push away the small controllers that litter the top. He hears something crash onto the floor, but pays it no mind when you're sucking on his tongue. 

His hands reach under your thighs, lifting you onto the desk, and your hands fumble at his belt, the fog that settled on his mind clears for a moment, and he pulls away.

“Here?”

You furrow your eyebrows, before smirking and leaning forwards, “you don’t want it?”

“I do- I really do-”

“Then what’s stopping you?” He tries to think, but can’t when it's only youyouyou on his mind. Flooding his senses, invading his thoughts and making him feel crazy ever since the day he met you. His jeans are tight, and he can feel the precum that's pooling in his underwear. 

“Fuck,” he surges to kiss you again, reaching down to unbutton your jeans. He slides his hands into the waistband, and you use the edge of the desk to push yourself up, letting him yank the jeans off in one fluid motion, your panties going with it. 

The desk was cold on your skin, but you didn’t care when Mike lifted his shirt, biting into the fabric and pushing his pants down far enough to free his cock.

In any other situation, Mike would have you in his bed, pillow under your hips while he eats you out for hours on end. He knew you would taste amazing, just like he knew your mouth would taste amazing. You were perfect to him, and that's the only thing on his mind when he was pressing into you. 

Mike's cock was thick, stretching you out perfectly, a slight burn following. You didn’t stop him, though, because his eyes were locked onto where his cock was slowly sinking into you, and his hands were shaking at the warmth you brought him. 

The monitors behind you continued to show the empty space of the Pizzaria, but it was at the back of both of your minds. Mike’s shirt was still caught between his teeth, his stomach smooth and perfect. He didn’t make a sound until his hips were flush against yours, and the whine he let out made you clench around him. 

His eyebrows furrowed, and he finally looked up at you, pupils dilated, curly hair a mess. Reaching up, you pull the shirt from between his teeth, the fabric wet, and grab the back of his head to drag him into a kiss. His lips are hot against yours, and his tongue licks into your mouth desperately. He moans as he tastes you again, and you grab his hips, trying to pull him further. 

When you pull away, you suck onto his bottom lip, looking at him through your lashes, “look at you,” you coo, “you’re so pretty, baby.”

He whines, blushing as he grinds against you. Finally finding a slow rhythm of deep thrusts. It lets you feel all of him, and lets him feel all of you. He stretched you out so well, and it almost felt like you could feel him in your stomach. He was perfect. 

“You’re so warm,” he whimpers, forehead resting against yours. Pulling at your vest, you manage to throw it to the floor with his, the metal badge chiming against the linoleum. He seems to understand what you’re doing, reaching for the end of your t-shirt, pulling it up quickly. The office was cold, your nipples hardening underneath your bra. You grab at his shirt next, his arms raising so you’re able to throw the shirt to the floor. His hips falter, but he continues.

Mike begins to leave kisses down your neck, biting your bra strap to push it to the side, letting it fall down your arm. He grabs the top of your bra, yanking it down and groaning at the sight of your exposed chest. 

“Fuck,” he curses, licking his lips before surging forwards, wrapping his lips around one of your nipples, tongue swirling the bud. Your head falls back against the top of the monitor, moaning loudly. 

Mike pulls away, a string of saliva connects his bottom lip to your nipple, but you lift your head to move closer, licking the spit from his lip to kiss him again. 

There was a heat slowly building in your gut, and you wrap an arm around Mike’s shoulders, trying to make him go harder, to go faster, but he just looks at you with a smirk.

“What is it? Huh?” He asks, his breath heavy. You whine, nails scratching at his skin. 

“Mike-”

He tsks, “common, baby,” he coos, “talk to me.”

“Please- Mike please- harder, fuck me harder,” theres a heat in your cheeks, and you feel your eyes burn at the building coil in your gut. 

Yet, Mike only looks at you with a growing smile, “Harder? You want me to fuck you harder, baby? But why?” He whines, “You feel so good like this.”

“Oh my god,” you moan in frustration, hand reaching in between you both to reach your clit, but his hand grabs your wrist, pinning it behind your back. 

“What is it, baby?”

There's that teasing smirk again, and you can feel your eyes burn. Your orgasm was right there, yet he was slowing down, causing it to be pushed further away. 

“I wanna cum, please, Mike- Please make me cum,” a sob threatens to spill from your lips, but Mike shushes you, kissing you softly. His stubble tickles your cheeks as he lays kisses onto your skin. He bites onto your neck, moaning as you clench around him again, sucking until the skin is bright red. 

He grabs onto your hips, leaning back to look down at where he disappears into you, and begins thrusting harder, letting go of your wrist to allow you to grab onto his shoulders once more. Bringing a hand to his mouth, he licks the pad of his thumb before snaking it between your bodies, rubbing tight circles around your clit. 

Throwing your head back, you almost cry at the hot coil in your stomach threatening to snap, and you can feel the tears that roll down your cheeks. 

“Please- Please, make me cum- wanna cum so bad-” you begging, pleading, in jumbled words that Mike can barely make out. Your legs are locked around his waist, pulling him closer. 

When you cum, your thighs tense around his waist, almost stopping him. Your mouth drops open, and a soft whine falls from your lips. You're clenching so tight around him, Mike almost cums himself, but bends down to bite onto your shoulder to stop himself. He refuses to cum yet, he wants to keep making you feel good. To see you fall apart around him again. 

He leaves another kiss where he was biting down on you, pulling away to leave kisses across your cheeks, before finally stopping to kiss you once more. You're breathing heavily, thighs shaking from the intense orgasm. 

Sliding out of you, he whines softly, pulling you from the desk so you’re standing, he only smiles at your confused face, grabbing your neck softly to pull you into another kiss, tongue licking into your mouth.

“Turn around, baby,” he sighs, holding your hips as you do. The table digs into your hips as you bend down, breasts pressing flat against the cold surface, but he tsks, grabbing your neck once more to pull you back up. His thumb was below your jaw, pressing against your pulse point just enough to feel your heart race.

He uses his other hand to press onto your lower back, making you arch, then reaching down to grab his cock once more and slide through your folds. You were so wet, cum slowly beginning to drip down your thighs. In one smooth thrust, Mike presses his hips flush against your ass, his hand still lightly gripping your neck to keep you against his chest. 

“There you go,” he whimpers, pressing kisses along your shoulders. He starts to thrust again, and you have to bite your lip to stop from moaning loudly. 

He felt so much deeper like this, hitting the spot inside you that had your eyes rolling back. 

There was still a buzz from your orgasm, but it was quickly building into another. Your thighs were shaking, and your palms were flat on the desk, nails digging into the wood. 

“M’gonna cum again-” you moan, knees almost buckling as the rapidly building heat. Mike smiles from behind you, but moves his hand from your waist again, snaking it down once more to circle his fingers around your swollen clit. 

“Again? You gonna cum for me again, pretty girl?”

“Oh my god- Mike-” You’re cumming before you even realize it. Head blank except for the thought of him-

His grip on your throat tightens just slightly, and you reach up to grab his wrist. His hips falter, breathy moans filling your ears as he presses your hips harder into the desk. You knew there would be bruising, but at the moment you didn’t care. You would let Mike do anything he wanted to you, as long as he kept making those heavenly noises for you. 

“You feel so fuckin’ good baby,” he slurs, “my pretty baby- you’re just perfect f’me- Perfect fuckin’ pussy too-” 

“Mike, please” you whimper, arching your back more for him. 

He hums, thrusting harder into you, “that's right baby-” he leans forwards to tilt your head, locking eyes with you, “say my name.”

“Mike-”

He groans, head rolling until your noses touch, “again, say it again baby- please-”

“Mike!-” 

“I’m gonna cum- fuck-” 

Your hand is wrapping around the grab onto him, nails dragging across his skin, “Inside me- please cum inside me- wanna feel you so bad-” 

Mike’s thrusts stop, grinding against you as he spills inside of you. Uttering your name under his breath like it's the only thing he’s ever known. 

You were everything he’s ever wanted. To have you clenching so tight around him, to be able to have you like this was like a dream to him. He never wanted to wake, he wanted to stay here with you forever, but as you both collected yourselves, his cum sliding down your thighs and dripping onto the floor, he knew better than that. He’s sitting in that uncomfortable chair again, watching as you slide your jeans on. You forgo your panties, reaching down to unzip his bag, smiling as you let them drop inside. 

“Do you wanna go on a date?”

You laugh, and it fills the room with a brightness he knew only you could bring. 

“I think we’re way past going on a date.”

“Then how about dinner? I make a mean Spaghetti and meatballs,” he smiles, and feels like his world is complete when you lean down to press a kiss to his lips, “I’d love that.”

[roc-haze]

Miss Roc 🤪 how do you feel about headcanons? (Aka can you pls write some)

also pls feel free to post other fics. I love your Will stuff but will est up anything you post at this point

Author’s note: I have inadvertently ended up as a Will writer… but who could blame me? Admittedly, posting any sort of fic kinda sends me into a bit of a panic as I’m still trying to figure out what my niche is.

Dating Headcanons | WillNE

- watching the F1 together on a Sunday, each taking turns yelling at the screen

- Will complains something chronic about his YouTube comments all being about you and James. “Someone in the comments told me I should just let you replace me! Imagine the WillNE channel, but without WillNE. Ridiculous!”

- Wednesday nights = takeaway nights. Shitty reality TV. Rotting on the couch.

- playing vinyls on the weekdays and dancing around the living room

- constantly trying to keep Will’s plants alive (and failing). Going from being a mother of 8 to none real quick

- the boys all referring to you as “Mrs Lenney”, they love taking the piss out of you as you give it right back

- having a group chat with Ieuan, Mikey and Orla where they send the most brutally unflattering stills of Will for you to enjoy

- you’re on a ban from filming any kind of YouTube or Instagram content for Will as you laugh too much.. “you’re too bloody distracting Y/N”

- Will often makes fun of the way you stumble over your words (a habit you’re pretty sure you picked up from him). “Shut up, Mr I-Like-Glape”

- mutually pretending to forget how to do household jobs just to spend time together. You best bet Mrs Lenney knows how to fix the broken cupboard handle, but she just wants to admire him with the toolkit

- having a great relationship with the other partners in the group, particularly Sabina and Faith

- regularly inviting the boys over for dinner, becoming a safe space for them when the internet becomes a little too much. Your apartment always has an open door policy

- Will, who is very independent, begins to depend on his mates a little more after seeing you interact with yours

- hosting girls night at your place so Will can get in on the goss. You bet he will be there, prosecco on hand, listening to the girls rant and rave about the men they’re dating

- pretending to beef with James just to stress Will out… also ganging up on Will with James

- sharing hoodies, crewnecks and band tees

[astrophileous]

HI! i love your works and writing so much!! 🩷can i make a request for spencer x fem!reader, where spencer sees reader play with children (whether it be henry or a different child) and gets turned on? later, smut with a breeding kink?🩷 FEEL FREE TO IGNORE IF YOU DONT WANT TO DO IT🫶

OKAY BUT A DISCLAIMER FIRST: smut is so fucking hard to write ISTG!!!! It took me far too long a time to finish this and now I might have just acquired a newfound level of respect for any fic writers out there who regularly whip out smut in every fic. With that said, I hope you bear with me bcs I'm new and generally inexperienced in writing smut, so I hope this is to your liking 😭😭😭 ty for the request and waiting so patiently!! ❤️

Warning(s): fem!reader, 18+ smut content minors dni, oral sex (f receiving), unprotected sex (p in v), breeding kink, praise kink (?), talks of impregnation, profanities, this is just porn without plot tbh

This blurb was written as a part of the "Zara's Birthday Bash and Road to 1K" celebration.

Zara's Birthday Bash and Road to 1K Masterlist / Criminal Minds Masterlist

"What's going on with you?" you asked as soon as the front door was shut behind your back.

Spencer turned around at your question. "What? Nothing's going on with me."

"Don't lie, Spencer. You've been awfully quiet since we left JJ's house." Your statement drove Spencer to tear his gaze away, but before he could take another step, you had seemingly transported right in front of him. "Talk to me. What's going on? Did something happen?"

"Nothing happened, sweetheart. Just forget it, okay?"

"No, I wanna know. Tell me."

Spencer's jaw clenched at your display of persistence. You didn't miss the way his eyes turned a few shades darker as he pinned you with his relentless stare.

"You really wanna know?" Spencer murmured.

Before you could give him a verbal answer, your fiancé suddenly pushed himself forward, trapping your body with his as your back collided against the wall. You gasped at his proximity. The atmosphere quickly shifted as you felt Spencer trailing his nose against the length of your neck.

"You wanna know what's going on? The truth is, I've been going insane," Spencer admitted against your ear. "You're driving me insane."

"Spencer, what are you talking about?"

Against what you thought was possible, Spencer propelled himself further into you, to the point where the air you breathed out became the same one he inhaled. Spencer's knee shoved itself between the apex of your thighs, making you gasp from the unexpected friction that his movement caused.

"I watched you back at JJ's. The way you acted around Henry? I can't stop thinking about it, sweetheart. It's driving me crazy."

"What?" An involuntary gasp slipped past your lips when Spencer's teeth lightly grazed your pulse point. "What are you—"

"I want us to have a baby."

The shock you felt was undoubtedly written all over your face. Spencer pulled back just the tiniest bit so he could stare right into your eyes. The gentleness in his pupils contradicted the desperation found in all of the ministrastions he pulled so far.

"I know when we talked about it in the past, it always seemed like such a distant thing. But after seeing you today—how you doted on Henry? I can't help it, sweetheart." Spencer's fingers strayed towards your cheek, tracing an invisible line until his touch met your jaw. "I want to have a family with you, and I want it to happen sooner rather than later. You own my forever, angel. There's no doubt in my mind that you'll become as amazing a mother just as you are a person."

The admission rendered you speechless. Time arrived into a screeching halt where it stayed there for seemingly thousands of years. Spencer was assessing you with worry in the consequent silence, trying to solve the cipher in your countenance that could give him a clue to what you were thinking.

Just as he was about to call out your name, you lunged forward out of the blue, claiming his lips in an earth-shattering kiss.

The two of you molded into one another like a pair of fitted puzzle pieces. Fire was raging inside your chest when you pulled away, first telltale signs of arousal stirring in the pit of your stomach.

"I wanna have a baby with you, Spencer. Please, I love you so much."

Spencer groaned wholeheartedly at the confession before diving back to kiss you even more fervently than before. Amidst the roaming hands and pleasurable gasps, the two of you somehow managed to stumble into the bedroom you had shared together for the past couple of years. Shed clothes littered the entire path you trudged, and in the blink of an eye, you found yourself naked on the bed with Spencer hovering above you clad in only his boxers.

"You're so beautiful," Spencer mused before taking one of your nipples in his explorative mouth. You writhed in pleasure while his fingers toyed with your other breast, making sure that no inch of your beauty escaped his attention. "Can't wait to see these full of milk, sweetheart. You'd look so beautiful pregnant with my baby."

You could only mewl when Spencer's lips trailed further southward, peppering kisses beneath your navel, just a sliver to where you needed him the most.

"Spencer, please. Ah. Don't tease."

Your fiancé chuckled at the desperation he heard in your voice. If it were any other day, he would have taken the time to edge you even further for the next few hours. But Spencer could feel his boxers getting tighter by the minute, and not wanting to prolong it any further, he slid downward until he was met with the view of your glistening folds.

"Fuck. So wet and gorgeous. Wish you could see how pretty you look, angel."

The moment Spencer's mouth touched your most sensitive part, you were gone for. His tongue lapped your juices like he was a man lost in a dessert while you were his oasis. The moans fled your throat when his lips wrapped around your taut clit, sucking and circling it with his tongue until you thrashed around uncontrollably. He then used his left forearm to pin your torso down, while his other hand started prodding the entrance to your heat.

"Oh my god, Spencer—mmphh," you whined when two of Spencer's fingers were snugly sheathed inside of you, going in and out until the whole room was overpowered by the obscene sound of your squelching wetness.

"You're so wet, angel. Holy shit," Spencer marveled as he fixated onto the movements of his fingers inside of you, the digits shining from your arousal that coated them. "So warm and tight, too. This all for me?"

"For you, Spencer, only for—oh, only for you. Feels so, mmhh, so good."

Spencer knew you were getting close from how tightly your walls were gripping his fingers, along with the way you were grinding your hips against his hand as if trying to amplify the pleasure you were reeling from. But right before the coil in your belly snapped, Spencer promptly removed his hand from your heat, making you whimpered in protest from the loss of contact.

"Patience, angel," Spencer said, leaning down to give you a quick kiss. "I want to be inside you and feel you around me as you cum."

He made quick work in removing his boxers, revealing his erection that was already red and leaking pre-cum on the tip. Spencer hissed when he gave himself a few lazy tugs, aware of your burning stare as you watched him with a raging want.

"Ready, sweetheart?" Spencer asked, waiting for your nod before sliding his tip in. You moaned into his neck until the entire length of his cock was snugged inside, clutching Spencer for dear life as the man cursed against your cheek. "You feel so good around me. Fuck. You alright, angel?"

You could only nod meekly in response. "Need you to move, Spence. Please, move."

Spencer didn't need to be told twice. He drew his hips back until the only thing engulfed by your pulsating walls was his tip, before ramming back into you with enough force to knock the breath out of your lungs.

In no time at all, your fiancé was moving in and out of you vigorously. The lewd sound of skin against skin echoed within the four walls of your bedroom, fueling your desire until your whole being was consumed by everything Spencer. You swore you could almost feel every ridge and vein of Spencer's cock as it slid in and out of your weeping hole, but your hazy brain would argue that it was plainly your lust talking.

"Spencer." His name came out as a gasp as you felt the imminent climax rising higher and higher. "I'm so—ah, s-so close. Please, please, please, I need to—"

"I know, sweetheart. I know you are. Can feel you squeezing around me. Shit. Milking me so good, hm? Gonna milk me, angel? Gonna milk my cock dry?"

You couldn't think of any other reply to Spencer's crude words except to moan even louder.

"I'm close, too, sweetheart. Fuck. I love being inside you like this. 'M gonna cum so much, gonna have my seed so deep inside you until your womb is filled to the brim."

Your walls fluttered at the thought of being full of Spencer's cum, and this little knowledge didn't evade your fiancé's notice as he picked up the pace of his thrusts.

"You like that, huh? Like the thought of my cum in your womb? Can't wait until you're all big and round, sweetheart. You're gonna make such a beautiful mommy."

"Wanna be a mommy, Spencer, I wanna have your baby!"

"Yeah? You want that? Wanna be pregnant with my baby and make me a daddy? Have a part of me inside of you, huh? Shit. Can picture it now, sweetheart. You'll look so gorgeous pregnant. Most beautiful mommy in the world."

Spencer's hips stuttered slightly. The mental image of you pregnant and barefoot, walking around your shared home carrying his child was doing abominable things to every neuron in his brain. That thought alone, along with the way your pussy was getting tighter around him by the second, was inevitably going to push him over the edge.

Without ever abating his pace, Spencer's fingers reached down towards your clit and started rubbing as if there was no tomorrow. You let out a scream at the added sense of pleasure that Spencer's fingers sent to your belly.

"That's it, angel. Just let it go for me. Let go and I'll give you every drop of my cum."

Another powerful thrust, coupled with a delicious stimulation to your bundle of nerves, had you cumming around Spencer's cock like you had never been before. It was one of the most intense orgasms of your life, and you couldn't do anything but wail and moan as Spencer continued to move inside you through it all.

Mere seconds later, Spencer's own undoing crashed into him like a truck. You felt his cock throb before warmth flooded in, spurts of cum painting every inch of your walls until Spencer was sure there was nothing else to empty. He collapsed on top of you as soon as he was done pulling out, panting breaths and a satiated smile as he buried his face in the column of your neck.

"So—" you began once your breathing had evened out, "—we're doing this, huh?"

Spencer looked up at your face. "Are you having second thoughts?"

"No. Definitely not. There's no one I'd rather do this with more than you, Spencer." You smiled, tucking a strand of your fiancé's overgrown curly hair behind his ear. "Although, I do have to say, I didn't expect you to be that type of guy."

"What type of guy?"

"The kind who gets territorial and borderline obsessed with the thought of impregnating their woman."

Your statement caused Spencer to laugh, crinkling eyes and head thrown back in a way that made your heart fall a little deeper for the man. You closed your eyes and sighed when his hand rose to cup your cheek.

"Can't help it, sweetheart. Any guy would be driven wild to have you as the mother of their child. I'm the luckiest guy in the world."

Spencer's proclamation was sealed with a kiss to your lips. It started out innocent enough before escalating in desperation with every minute that ticked by. Spencer swallowed all of your whimpers even when his hand started to meander downward, all the way past your abdomen, and right under your navel where your arousal was beginning to awaken once again.

At the first swipe of thumb on your clit, you gasped against his lips.

"Spence, what are you—"

"Sshh, we're far from finished, sweetheart. Didn't think I'd be done with you so quickly, did you?" Spencer smirked. "I'm gonna keep fucking you through the night, however long it takes, and fill you with loads after loads of my cum to make sure you are pregnant once this is all over. Now, you just lie back, angel. 'M gonna make you feel so fucking good."

[nahimjustfeelingit-writes]

HBCU CONFESSIONS.

Part Three

Valencia: You ready?

Erik: You wanna come down to my room? I’m almost finished, I just hopped out of the shower.

Valencia stood in front of a mirror propped up against her side of the dorm room. The idea of going to Erik’s room excited her. Biting down on her bottom lip, Valencia quickly typed a reply.

Valencia: Of course ☺️

She checked out her attire one last time. That yellow dress on her body was sure to have Erik’s attention. At least that’s what the blog said.

-Erik loves sundresses or anything showing off legs and hugging curves. Bonus points to bold colors that pop against brown skin ☺️

Valencia grabbed her black crossbody bag from her bed and she left her dorm room. She shut the door softly, waiting until a group of students talking closely together walked by. The RA dorm room was at the very end of the hall near the bathrooms. Valencia walked down the hall, keeping a lookout for anyone who would be spying on her. Not that anyone really gave a fuck. Rochelle was messing around with a few male students regularly.

Her footsteps came to a halt in front of his door. Valencia raised a fist and knocked with uncertainty. Valencia withdrew her hand and fiddled with her bag. She rocked back and forth on her heels, clicked her tongue, looked from one end of the hall to the other. The door opened and Erik peeked his head out, smirking at her. She could tell that he was trying to conceal himself. Was he—

“Come in.”

The door opened enough to let her in. Valencia’s eyes scanned the room first and then they landed on Erik. She had to close her mouth before she drooled down her chin. If there was a word to collectively describe how delicious he looked at the moment, Valencia would say it. His locs were flesh against his forehead. His skin was glistening and moisturized. He was shirtless with a single gold cross chain hanging between his pecs. His jeans hung low on his hips teasing her.

“I…hello.”

Erik chuckles, “Let me grab a T-shirt and we can head out, okay?”

“Uh-huh…”

Erik turned to grab a folded white T-shirt from his bed. He didn’t take his eyes off of Valencia as he pulled the T-shirt over his head. She peeled her eyes away to look around the room. She had to calm herself down because it was getting heated. Her skin was flushed, body temperature increased, breathing rapid. She noticed a pair of gold boots haphazardly placed in a corner near his closet.

“You ready?”

Valencia’s cafe noir eyes fell on Erik. He was fully dressed now, holding a denim jacket in his hand.

“I figured we could go to this bomb ass diner I found about a week ago. Best milkshakes I ever had.”

“Is it Macky’s Diner?”

“It is,” Erik smirked at her, “Damn…”

“Wha—what?”

“You. That’s what.”

Erik moved closer, literally standing over her to the point where he had to crane his neck. Valencia’s eyelids fluttered and she looked up at Erik through her lashes. She dropped her eyes to his lips, then his neck.

“This color on you…”

Valencia blushed, “You like it?”

“It’s one of my favorites.” Erik gave her a lop-sided grin.

His hand reached down to twirl one of her braids around his finger. Valencia’s sharp intake of breath didn’t go unnoticed to Erik.

“You got some explaining to do, baby girl.” Erik said with a playful glint in his eyes.

“Oh,” Valencia giggles, “The picture…”

Erik tilted his head and looked at her.

“The one with your face down and ass up. Yeah, that picture.”

Valencia was shrinking beneath his gaze. A nervous feeling tickled her belly. She tried to come up with a remark in her head.

“No need to be all coy about it.” Erik laughs.

“I—I thought you might want to have something to look at when…when I’m not around. So you don’t forget about me.”

Her small voice, timid yet sexy eyes, and voluptuous lips had Erik in the strongest chokehold. He had the biggest crush on her in two days time.

“I couldn’t forget you even if I tried.”

Erik’s hand reached past Valencia and turned the doorknob. Her beautiful smile at his words warmed his heart. Valencia turned her back towards Erik and he used his hand to hold the door open so she could walk out. She stood back and watched Erik shut and lock his door before they walked down the hall side by side.

The lounge area was surprisingly empty. They took the elevators down and Erik walked ahead to hold the door for Valencia. He shocked her by gripping her dainty hand in his much larger one. She looked from their hands to his face and nibbled on the corner of her bottom lip to fight the urge to smile hard. Holding his hand made he blush uncontrollably.

They finally made it to Erik’s car. He released Valencia’s hand to open the door for her. She lowered herself into the seat, the smell of mahogany teakwood filling her nose. The leather seats were warm against the back of her legs since his car was within a shaded area. It was clean inside minus a gym bag tossed in the backseat. She secured herself while Erik slipped into the drivers seat. When he turned on his car, the car vibrated from the music Erik was listening to on max. The Scotts by Travis Scott ft. Kid Cudi filled the interior of the all black Hellcat Challenger. Even in low throttle, the supercharge whine was the best automotive sound Valencia ever heard. She felt like she was in a race car.

Erik turned his music down a little, laughing at the expression on Valencia’s face. One hand whipping, Erik sat his other hand on Valencia’s thigh. Die Young by Roddy Ricch was next on Erik’s playlist. She loved trap music. Her own playlist would probably shock Erik. He started stroking her thigh and Valencia had to distract herself with fixing her hair in the mirror so she wouldn’t shudder.

“We’re five minutes away.” Erik said.

_________

They walked into the diner hand-in-hand. They came in at the best time. The hostess led them to a booth seat right next to the window. Valencia sat across from Erik and two seconds later, their waiter, a stout, curvy black woman with cropped curls came over to their table.

“Hello. What can I get you to drink?”

Erik stroked his soul patch down to his goatee in deep thought.

“I’ll do a cookies and cream milkshake. No Cherry with extra Oreo.”

“Okay. And you?”

“Can I have the same please? And a water.”

“I’ll have a water as well.” Erik added.

“Alright. I’ll be back with your drinks.”

The waiter sauntered away. Valencia scanned the diner, avoiding Erik’s gaze because he couldn’t keep his eyes off of her. She placed a hand over her belly to calm the butterflies. She really needed to relax.

“Are you enjoying the date so far?” Erik questioned, breaking the ice.

Valencia finally looked at him. She gave him a warm smile.

“Yes. I’ve never been on a date before so…”

“Really?”

Erik furrowed his brows at her in disbelief.

“My ex before college never asked me. A guy I was talking to during my sophomore year stood me up. And Isaiah—that was a mistake. Pretty much no experience in what it would be like until now.”

Valencia shrank in her seat. She started overthinking again. Her inexperience probably turned him off. Once again, she was proven wrong.

“Here are your drinks…”

The waiter who Valencia recognized to be Pam from her name badge— she didn’t give them her name—sat their drinks down.

“Ready to order?” She clicked her pen.

Erik motioned for Valencia to go first. She was so distracted by Erik she hadn’t even looked the menu over. She opened her menu and skimmed.

“Okay…I’ll do a cheeseburger with french fries. Extra salt and pepper on the fries please.”

The waiter jotted that down and turned her eyes onto Erik.

“I’ll do the same but make it a double cheeseburger.”

Both of them handed their menus over. Pam walked away to put their orders in.

“…To respond to what you said, they didn’t deserve you. I’m happy to be your first date though.”

Erik smirked at her causing his dimples to pop.

“…And don’t feel ashamed of your inexperience. Ever.”

“Thank you,” Valencia hunched her shoulders and blushed.

“You’re a swimmer? I noticed the bathing suit you had on beneath your shorts today had the school logo on it.”

“I do! I’m on the swim team. Swimming is a real passion of mine. I’m not looking to go pro or anything like that. I’m amongst a few family members of mine who can actually swim.”

Erik nodded his head, “I love to swim myself. Haven’t been in a while. I used to go night swimming in the pool at TSU. I was cool with the coach at the time. Now, since I’m a TA, I can just badge right in.”

“Hm,” Valencia drew in a slow breath, “What else do you like to do?”

Erik looked away and down at his hands on the table he smirked to himself.

“I really enjoy poetry. I used to write my own and recite it at Poetry Live. Most of my work is sexual. Anyone can talk dirty, but there’s an art to painting erotic images in another’s mind…”

Valencia didn’t know if there was even a kink to describe what Erik was explaining to her. If it is, she may have discovered a new kink of hers. She rested her chin into her hand and focused on him.

“…Whether it’s my warm voice whispering into someone’s ear, or amplified. Through words I can arouse a reader. I just think that’s powerful.”

Silence filled the space between them while they enjoyed their shake. Erik licked his lips and then he started talking again.

“Words may be primitive shapes, or puffs of spoken air, but a mind can transform them into a force of thrilling potency. It imbues them with a sexual power. Our mighty mental engines are voracious, they yearn for novelty, new instructions to drive the looms of our imagination to weave stunning new patterns…”

Valencia gawked at Erik. He chuckled.

“I can be very eloquent when I choose to be.”

“I can see that,” Valencia giggles.

The waiter returned with their food. Valencia’s eyes widened at the portions. She wasn’t going to finish all of that. Erik and her reached for the ketchup at the same time. They both laughed and then Erik passed her the ketchup first. Valencia ate her fries while thinking of something risky to do to tease Erik. She was taking advice from the blog earlier after sharing that she would be going on a lunch date.

-You should tease him some more. Maybe eat your food in a sexy way. Slow, make noises.

Valencia grabbed a fry and when Erik glanced over at her she bit down on her fry slowly, drawing it into her mouth with her tongue. Erik rolled his lips, his dimples deep in his cheeks.

“Mm, that is so good,” Valencia closed her eyes, “Mmm…I love French fries.”

“I can tell.” Erik laughs.

Valencia paused, a nervous chuckle escaping her mouth. She sat her fry down and rubbed the back of her neck in embarrassment.

Remind me to never do that again, she thought.

“So, how long have you had a thing for me?”

Valencia darted her eyes across the table at Erik like she’d been caught. Erik laughed with all his teeth.

“What makes you think I have a thing for you?” Valencia quipped.

“Oh, I don’t know,” Erik spoke sarcastically, “The constant blushing. The way you can’t even look me in the eye.”

Valencia rolled her eyes. She looked away and back to her food.

“How long?”

“Months…”

She swirled a french fry in ketchup.

“I wish I would have known. I’m glad I do now.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m feeling you too. I’ve seen you around campus. I’ve peeped you out for a while now.”

“…what?”

Valencia gave Erik an incredulous look.

“Yeah. Might as well throw it out there. I didn’t wanna make it obvious because I saw you with Isaiah. I didn’t think you were available. Probably thought I was too old for you or some shit…”

Valencia could not believe it. Erik had been interested in her this entire time?

“Are you being serious?”

Erik chuckled.

“Erik?”

“Yeah, I’m serious. Why would you think that I wouldn’t? You’re gorgeous.”

Valencia turned her face away, giggling. She covered her mouth to contain her laughter. They went back to eating their food and the entire time, Erik would look over at her and Valencia would look up at him. Her foot brushed against Erik’s beneath the table and she held her breath when Erik did the same to her but intentionally. Valencia clenched her thighs together to calm the throbbing between her legs.

“I was thinking we could hit up this black-owned library before going back to campus. Is that cool?”

Valencia bobbed her head, “I’m down.”

_________

Ding.

The bell alerted to their arrival. Valencia loved the smell of a library. It’s a combination of grassy notes with a tang of acids and a hint of vanilla over an underlying mustiness. A customer slipped past them after purchasing a book. The cashier looked up at them and gave them a welcoming smile.

“I’m Simone. Let me know if you need anything.”

Erik and Valencia thanked her. Everything was neatly placed and organized. Hand in Erik’s, he led her to the back of the library, and between two stacks beneath a low ambiance.

���This is where I find the best poetry.”

Erik released her hand and he walked up to the shelf to his left first. His thick, pointer finger moved from book-to-book. Valencia followed him, her eyes scanning the books. There was one sticking out from its spot so she paused, grabbling it from in between just so she could read the front cover.

“Verbal Stimulation: An Intimate Collection of Poetry. Sounds promising.” Valencia whispered.

Erik turned towards Valencia. He studied the front cover of the book.

“I’ve read this one…actually, I think I may have this…”

Valencia handed him the book. Erik opened it, turning the pages a few times before he found one that he really liked. Valencia leaned her shoulder against the shelf, veering closer to Erik. He cleared his throat and his voice took on a much lower timbre.

“i like my body when it is with your

body. It is so quite new a thing.

Muscles better and nerves more.

i like your body. i like what it does,

i like its hows. i like to feel the spine

of your body and its bones,and the trembling

-firm-smooth ness and which i will

again…and again…and again

kiss, i like kissing this and that of you.”

Erik looked down at Valencia and a smile slowly crept up his lips.

“E.E. Cummings. He writes a lot of erotically charged love poetry celebrating self-love and the excitement of a love affair.” Erik informed Valencia.

“I liked that one.” She replied with a hushed tone and tempting eyes.

Erik placed the book back on the shelf and they continued down the aisle. His footsteps paused again when he’d noticed another book.

“This one is Pablo Neruda. One of his books…”

“Can you read to me again?” Valencia pleaded.

Erik gave her a once over with a smirk. He opened the book to the first poem.

“I crave your mouth, your voice, your hair.

Silent and starving, I prowl through the streets.

Bread does not nourish me, dawn disrupts me, all day

I hunt for the liquid measure of your steps.

I hunger for your sleek laugh,

your hands the color of a savage harvest,

hunger for the pale stones of your fingernails,

I want to eat your skin like a whole almond.”

The more he recited poetry to her, the more her panties grew wet. Erik noticed, and he inched closer to Valencia. She placed her back against the shelf and Erik loomed closer, his chest almost touching hers.

“Isaiah called you poet…”

Erik’s eyes danced over her face. Valencia’s eyelids fluttered.

“We have nicknames. Poet is one of my nicknames. My brothers know that I’m a man of words. They used to crack jokes until they realized that my words had an effect on women. They didn’t have much to say then.”

Valencia tucked her chin and quietly giggled.

“Well, I like the nickname,” Valencia looked up at Erik shyly, “Can I call you Poet?”

“If you want,” Erik licked his lips, “You can call me anything you want…”

Erik’s face drew closer to Valencia’s. She released a shaky breath. A tickle crept over her skin when he pressed his lips against her ear.

“I have another one I think you’ll like. It’s one of my favorites…”

“O—Okay,” Valencia shivered.

“Like one slutty little horny slave

listening to her master.. she behaves

he mind keeping hidden what she craves

one hard black dick her pussy loving raves…”

Valencia closed her eyes. Her hands came up to rest on Erik’s chest. She could feel his hands on her waist now. He drew circles with his fingertips, eliciting a whimper.

“I want to unleash on to you

Not out of love but because you know how to receive

Teeth digging into your fair fragile skin, rupturing

I feel hunger ever more

Your little wet mouth lingering in obedience yet I strike with punishment

Feeling your breath withdraw under the pressure of my hand wrapped around your throat…”

His hands leisurely smoothed up her waist until his hands were flush against her back. Valencia slowly opened her eyes and Erik was staring down at her through his gold-rimmed glasses. Her glossy, full lips parted slightly and her eyes focused on his mouth as he recited erotic poetry to her.

“The sight of her makes my mouth drool

So tempting, so irresistible

I take her in my arms

I lick my lips in anticipation

Pulling back the cover

I gaze at her pretty pussy

I can’t wait to taste her pretty pussy

The flavor of her arousal so deeply embedded on my appendage.”

Valencia’s chest heaved up and down, her breasts pushing against Erik’s chest. Now, they were playing into her size kink. The way he crowded her space with his much bigger and stronger body made her phat pussy quiver. Erik used one hand to stroke her chin with his thumb while the other now took its place on her ass.

“Did you like that?” He whispered.

“Yes…”

Erik dropped his onyx eyes down to her lips. His top lip twitched slightly with anticipation to taste her juicy mouth.

“You have the most beautiful lips…”

“So do you.”

Erik smirked at her and then he inched closer. Valencia titled her chin up and closed her eyes. The moment his plump lips graced her full lips, a spark ignited within her. Her arms came up to wrap around his shoulders. She stood on her tip toes in her sandals. Erik wrapped a single arm around her waist. Their heads tilted to the left, both of their plump bottom lips sinking into each other like wet cushions. Erik sucked her lower lip into his mouth and dragged his teeth over it before using his tongue to trace the inside of her lip.

Valencia moaned softly into his mouth. Her dress hiked up beneath her ass, almost exposing her black thong. Their lips made moist, smacking noises. Both tongues hot and wet. Erik’s other hand squeezed Valencia’s buns, so much that her pussy opened up. The cool air of the library against her heated pussy caused her to moan.

“Mmmm…”

It was a mixture of a whimper and a moan. The sexiest fucking sound Erik had ever heard. He broke their kiss and his eyes scanned her body.

“That pussy wet?” He asked with a husky voice.

She nodded her head with a pout of her lip.

“Tell me that pussy wet…”

He dragged his tongue over her tongue.

“Tell daddy that pussy wet, baby…”

“…Daddy…my pussy is so wet…”

Valencia’s face was hot. She’d never been talked to like that. Ever. She couldn’t even believe she said it. Erik’s hand sat beneath the under cuff of her left cheek and he made it jiggle. She pressed her face against his chest, her shyness something she was unable to control.

“Can I touch that wet pussy?” He whispered.

Valencia nodded her head again, unable to meet his gaze. Erik didn’t force her to say it this time, only because he was so anxious to see and feel that wet puss for himself. He hadn’t been this excited and aroused in a long time. Valencia turned her back towards Erik and poked her butt out against his crotch.

Erik looked both ways to make sure there wasn’t anyone lurking. He could hear voices so he needed to make this quick. Erik brought a hand around and between her legs. The temperature there made him groan against her hair. Valencia braced herself on the shelf in front of her. Erik started off by stroking her pussy lips up and down through her panties. There was a heated damp spot right in between as if her panties were sitting right in the middle of her phat lips.

Using his middle finger, eyes still looking around, Erik stroked from the top of her pussy, all the way to the back. He did it a few more times before he pinched her pussy lips between his fingers. Valencia’s forehead fell forward and she quietly moaned. Erik did it again. His dick was twitching. He flicked her pussy lips with his fingers and in his mind he couldn’t believe how phat her pussy was.

“Damn, Valencia…”

Erik carefully slipped the crotch of her thong to the side. Valencia inhaled. They sat perfectly to the side and Erik didn’t waste time touching her. When the flesh of his fingers graced the flesh of her bald pussy, Erik exhaled a longing breath. He took his time stroking her outer lips. She had inner folds that poked out between her outer lips. Like a pretty flower. He was shocked when he’d noticed that she had a clit piercing.

“You got your clit pierced?” Erik whispered, his tone laced with shock and arousal.

Valencia chewed on her bottom lip.

“That’s not what I expected at all,” Erik chuckles.

“It’s a VCH. I got it a year ago—”

Erik used his fingers to spread her pussy open wide. He fingered her clit and Valencia almost shouted. He flicked her clit non-stop, her mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. She had to bite down hard on her lip to control herself. He then used his middle and ring finger to circle her clit.

“Uhhhhh…”

Valencia almost pulled books from the shelves. Her inner thighs quaked. She could feel her nipples harden.

“Erik…”

“You’re right baby girl…this pussy is wet…”

Erik massaged her clit over and over and since it was so quiet in the library, Erik could hear her pussy making creamy noises.

“That pussy talking now…fuck…”

“It feels so good…” Valencia spoke with a hushed tone.

The smell of his cologne and the warmth of his body against her back had her dripping.

“I wanna feel it deeper, baby…”

She knew what he meant. She was a little nervous because all the times she’d been fingered by her ex, she never enjoyed it and always avoided it. Valencia relaxed her body, but her heart was racing. Two of Erik’s fingers sat at her entrance. She stilled her body with anticipation, gaining the courage to look back at Erik. The second her cafe noir eyes met his, those thick fingers were pushing up inside of her.

“Oh my gosh…”

He sank his fingers deep. He started stroking her spot.

“Daddy—”

Erik placed a hand over her mouth to keep her quiet. Her ass pressed into his crotch and she writhed against him. The sound of her pussy was so loud and obnoxious.

“You’re making too much noise…I know it feels good, baby, but you gotta stay quiet…”

The way he fingered her made her fall in love. He knew where to touch and stroke. She was clenching around his fingers. Uncontrollably. She could feel herself dripping down her inner thighs. His hand must be soaked. It had to be with the way he easily went in and out. His wrist didn’t get tired. His fingers didn’t cramp up. She mumbled something against his hand but her words were lost on him.

“This pussy is deep and fuckin’ wet…you lovin’ this shit…my mouth is drooling…”

Erik had to bite down on his lower lip. She gripped his fingers again and he could see her eyes crossing.

“I’m…”

She hung her head and pressed her face into her arm. Erik’s fingers sloshed in and out of that wet fucking pussy and when she climaxed it was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. She fell back against him, reaching behind her to grip his arms. Her knees almost buckled and a thin layer of sweat made her mocha skin glisten. Erik’s fingers carefully withdrew from her pussy. Even though her panties were pushed to the side, the amount of creamy goodness that came from her stained them.

Erik looked down at his hand and his fingers were dripping wet and creamy. He could smell her pheromones, the scent of her pussy wafting his nose. She smelled amazing. Erik loved the smell of freshly fucked, horny, wet pussy. Bonus points if it’s clean, well taken care of pussy. Valencia turned and braced herself against the shelf. She stared up at Erik through her lashes with low, wanton eyes.

“You made a big ass mess…”

Valencia watched Erik suck on his fingers. He cleaned them off like it was a sweet treat. Her mouth dropped open in shock. He licked between his fingers, the palm of his hand, and sucked on his own lips to get any remnants of her onto his tongue. All while looking at her intently.

“Mm,” Erik licked his lips again, “You taste amazing.”

“T—Thank you.”

Come here so you can taste it…”

He curled his finger for her to come to him. She tilted her chin up.

“Stick your tongue out…”

Valencia did as she was told. Erik touched tongues with her and then they french kissed. Valencia whimpered into his mouth. She’d never tasted herself before. This was the nastiest thing and she loved it. Erik drew back to stare her in the eyes. He was so horny. His dick was fat and long between his legs.

“Take your panties off.” Erik commanded.

He wasn’t asking, he was telling.

“Right here?”

Erik chuckled, “You let me play in your pussy right here, didn’t you?”

Valencia giggled. He had a point.

“Okay…”

She slipped her hands beneath her dress. Valencia pulled her thong down and stepped out of it. She held her panties out in her palm for Erik. He snatched them and balled them up before placing it inside of his pocket.

“Mine…”

What was he going to do with fhem? Valencia felt a little self conscious. Used panties? Erik could sense her nervousness.

“Thank you for letting me touch you like that.”

Erik kissed her cheek softly. She smiled up at him and swayed from side to side.

“Thank you for making me fall in love with fingering. I’ve avoided it for so long because I didn’t like it when my ex would do it…he made it hurt.”

“It’s never supposed to hurt, ma. That nigga didn’t know what he was doing.”

Erik stroked her cheek with the side of his finger. She was so precious. It made him feel good that he was her first date and first great finger-fucking partner.

“I’ll show you what it’s like anytime you want. Whatever you want, I’ll show you. You have my number…”

Valencia swooned at his words. Erik couldn’t resist the urge to kiss her one last time before they left with one of his favorite poetry books for her to read. When the both of them appeared at the front of the store again, Valencia expected the cashier to mention how they’ve been gone for so long, but surprisingly enough, she simply smiled knowingly at them.

“Find everything okay?”

“Yes,” Erik replied.

She rung them up and they left hand-in-hand back to the dorms.

_________

Back at the dorms, Erik and Valencia stopped in front of her dorm room. She hesitated to enter, and Erik was reluctant to leave. The car ride over, Valencia would catch glimpses of Erik smelling his fingers. The reason for that is because his fingers found their way between her legs again. He’d only done it so he could smell and taste her. It was the most primal thing she’d ever seen. The recollection of her thong in his pocket turned her on and she pictured him smelling her panties. He even questioned if her STD panel was up to date and how often she got tested. Very mature and necessary considering the amount of unsafe sexual activity going on. They exchange info and that was the final green light to go further. And boy was Valencia thrilled about that.

“I’m not gonna lie…I wanna eat your pussy.”

His boldness was too much. She hid her face behind her hands, only for Erik to move her hands away.

“Your dorm or mines?”

Erik quirked a brow at her. He was dead serious.

“Uhm…we should go to yours. Only because I don’t know if Brielle is in there or not…”

“Smart.” Erik said.

He grabbed Valencia by the hand and led her down the hall. They made it to his room and he unlocked the door. They slipped inside quickly and Valencia sat down on his bed while Erik shut the door. He told her to get comfortable so she removed her sandals. She couldn’t believe this was about to happen. If Valencia had ever created a list of things she’d never done or things she’d had bad experiences with, pussy eating would be one of them. Her ex had little to no experience with it and Valencia didn’t care much for it. Isaiah was flat out terrible at it. So far, Erik had proven to her that he could easily change her mind so she wasn’t worried about his pussy eating skills. With a mouth like that, he better be a pussy monster.

The walls in the dorms are thin. Erik decided to put on a playlist of his from the TV in the dorm. He opened Apple Music and found a random rap song for background noise. One she hadn’t heard of but the beat was good. It was definitely something she would shake her ass to. Erik sat his jacket down and kicked off his shoes. Valencia watched him pull his shirt over his head and his abs flexed. One thing for sure, Isaiah has a nice body, but he wasn’t touching Erik.

He walked over to Valencia and climbed onto the bed. She backed up towards his pillow and giggled when he pounced her. They started off with a make out session again. Valencia opened her legs and rubbed her inner thighs along Erik’s waist. His kisses trailed down her neck while his hands pushed her knees back. He sat up on his knees and then his eyes dropped down to admire her pussy. It was smooth, wet, and phat. Pretty chocolate with a pink center. The VCH piercing popped against her flesh.

“The prettiest pussy.” Erik praised.

“Thank you,” Valencia looked away.

“Aight, rule number one, don’t look away while I eat it…”

“Yes sir,” She replied.

“Rule number two, don’t push my head away. I hate that shit. You want it, you take it.”

That scared her. Valencia didn’t know what she was in for.

“Lay back…”

Valencia relaxed against his pillow. She looked down at him, watching him lay flat against his abs. He kept her thighs pushed back and then without further ado, his tongue licked a long trail up her pussy. Valencia’s mouth opened. She locked eyes with Erik and he spread her lips before doing the same thing with his tongue to her inner folds. She curled her toes and fought to shut her eyes.

“Fuck,” She whispered.

This was a real challenge. Keeping eye contact while his tongue flicked, twirled, and glided all over her clit. He knew how to work that tongue on areas she didn’t know could feel so good. He made sure each spot got equal attention.

“Fuck, you taste so damn good…”

“Mhm,” Valencia nibbled on her bottom lip.

Erik planted kisses on her clit before those same lips started softly sucking. Valencia took in a sharp breath. Erik flicked his eyes up at her and then they rolled shut. Valencia threw her head back. Her legs were shaking like she had Parkinson’s. When he released her clit, they both stared at how stiff and swollen it was. This is the moment when Valencia knew she was in trouble. The VCH piercing made her clit extra sensitive. That’s why every time she used her vibrator, she could never last. Two minutes into masturbating and she was cumming.

Erik flicked her clit just a little and Valencia’s body jerked like she was doused with cold water.

“It’s too sensitive—”

Erik wasn’t trying to hear that. He started sucking again. His sucking this time was more like french kisses. Slurping sounds filled the room. He forced her thighs back harder now. He gave her another break, her clit popping out of his mouth.

“You gotta take it. Don’t keep this pussy away from me.”

His voice was huskier and it had Valencia in a trance.

“Okay, daddy.” She replied with a small voice.

He went back to munching. Valencia moaned loudly. The sweetest moans. She fought to close her thighs despite Erik’s words. Her body seizes and she clawed at the sheets. Her eyes almost rolled to the back of her head.

“Unh! Uhhhnnnn!”

She climaxed. Valencia couldn’t believe how hard she’d cum. He finally came up for air. His beard was soaked. Pupils dilated, he looked like a pussy eating savage. Valencia sat up and stared between her legs. She’d never known that her pussy could tremble but she watched it in real time. One look at Erik and she knew he wasn’t finished.

“Mm,” Valencia whimpered.

“Turn over and put that ass in the air.”

She moved towards the center of the bed and arched her back deep like she did in that photo. Erik stood behind her, shaking his head at how fucking beautiful her wide open pussy and ass looked from the back. Valencia peeked back at him. They locked eyes and then Erik whacked her ass with both hands. She flinched and moaned. He jiggled her cheeks while spreading them at the same time.

“This my pussy to play wit’ now. I better not find out you giving this up, hear me?”

“Yes, daddy.” Valencia replied.

“I’m not joking, girl…”

She knew he wasn’t. His tone alone told her that. And why would she? He’s the best she ever had.

Erik got down behind her and started slurping her from behind. The position and the way he did it felt more intense for Valencia. She curled her lower legs up and went flat against the bed, reaching behind to hold her ankles. Erik slapped her cheeks before continuing his feast. She moaned into the bed.

“Yes, daddy,” Valencia cried.

She started moving her hips with the motion of his eating. She felt her body shake out of control and she couldn’t hold her ankles any longer. Valencia moaned on a loop, falling onto her side on the bed. Erik tilted his head and ate that pussy from the side. She held her thigh back and pressed her face into her knee. She was shaking out of control.

“I can’t, I can’t, I can’t,” Valencia begged.

“Mm-mm,” Erik hummed into her pussy.

She felt herself squirt a little and Erik licked that up. His tongue would push inside of her, his lips would suck whatever he could, his saliva mixed with her juices added a sensation mixed with heat. It was amazing.

“So good…I…so good…I’m cummin’…I’m cummin…”

She almost closed Erik’s head between her thighs. He finally stopped and the visual with his messy locs and wet face was beyond sexy. Valencia rolled over onto her back and covered her face with her arm. Erik stood up and his jeans were hanging low on his hips. Valencia moved her arm away from her eyes and she stared openly at his print. What was he holding back in those jeans? A python? He was big. She sat up on her knees and reached out a hand to stroke him. Valencia gripped him and squeezed. That elicited a grunt from Erik.

“I can return the favor.” Valencia said.

“As much as I would love you to, I have to get ready for tonight…”

Time was lost on her. She hadn’t realized how late it was. Valencia tried to hide her disappointment but Erik caught her face in his grip and forced her to look up at him.

“I promise. Daddy will give you this dick tonight, baby. After the party, okay? I promise.”

Erik kissed her lips and Valencia stood up to fix herself. She still had to figure out what she was going to wear tonight and it always took her forever to do her makeup. She also needed another shower. Erik helped her with her shoes and then he walked her to the door. He grabbed her by the hand one last time, pulling her into another kiss. Valencia smiled against his mouth.

“I’ll see you later, aight?” Erik said.

“Okay.”

She waved goodbye and left his dorm room. Walking down the hall, Valencia squealed. This was probably the best day of her life so far. At her dorm, she opened the door and found Brielle sitting on her bed on her lap top.

“Where have you been all day?” Brielle pestered.

“Went for lunch, got some fresh air, that’s all…”

Valencia was happy that whatever had Brielle’s attention stopped her from noticing the big, goofy grin on her face.

“This blog is hilarious! Listen to this…I’m fucking my professor for an A in his class. He got me pregnant. I don’t want an abortion, but he has a wife and kids. The sad truth is, I know he wouldn’t leave his wife for me even though he complains about her having wack pussy. I don’t know what to do.”

“That’s wild! What school?”

“Morgan State.” Brielle replied.

_________

A Delta is, whatta AKI ain't. What a Zeta wanna be and whatta Sigma can't. What a Alpha likes, whatta Kappa loves. and whatta a Que Psi Phi can't get enough of. THAT IS A DELTA!!!!

Delta Sigma Theta kicked it off with their stroll through fhe party. Andrea lead the way proudly. Knuck if You Buck filled the party and everyone had their phones out recording the ladies. Body rolling and hands forming a pyramid. Their competitive chant had the other sororities, like AKA, dismissing them and rolling their eyes. The Kappas wolf-whistled, The Alphas watched with proud stances, and the Omegas shouted.

“Get it Get it.”

“AYE! AYE!”

“That’s right!”

The room was packed from wall to wall. It smelled like weed and sweat. Valencia took her place as a wall flower, dressed in a sparkly bandu with black high waisted jeans. She accessorized with large silver hoops and a layered chain necklace. Her braids were down her back and her face was beat to the gods. She added body glitter as a final touch to draw the look together. Brielle and Skai were on the dance floor, grinding all over each other. Cindy was there with her boyfriend who is a Kappa, chatting with him closely with drinks in their hands.

Dior was standing with the AKA’s she’s an AKA just like her sister Jeanette. It was too crowded to try and watch them do their entrance so Valencia stood back and waited for Erik to do his thing. The crowd erupted when AKA took over.

“SKEE-WEE!!! SKEE-WEE!!!!”

Valencia could see them a little from where she stood.

“A-L-P-H-A

K-A-P-P-A

A-L-P-H-A

Whooo those AKA's

An Ahhka is what a Delta ain't

What a Zeta couldn't

What a SGRho can't

What the Kappas like

What the Ques love

What APhiA can't get enough of us!!!!”

“Valencia, you okay?”

Cindy tapped her shoulder, startling Valencia. It was so loud she could hardly hear Cindy.

“I’m okay! You know how I get with crowds!”

“You wanna grab a drink?!”

That sounded good to Valencia. She nodded her head and grabbed Cindy’s hand. She led the way over to the open bar stock piled with alcohol. Valencia asked for a mixed drink with tequila. The bartender whipped something up for her and she sampled it to see if she liked it. It was strong but very good. Now that they were standing by the bar, Valencia could watch. The Zeta’s were doing their thing now.

“The men, the men, of Black and Gold

1-9-0-6 too cold, too cold

They came to a Zeta and they said to me

They said, ‘I’ll never be as COLD as a Z Phi B.’

The men, the men, of KAPsi

Phi Nu Pi ’til the day that they die

They came to a Zeta and they said to me

They said, ‘I’ll never be as PRETTY as a Z Phi B

The men, the men, of Q Psi Phi

Down dirty dogs ’til the day that they die

They came to a Zeta and they said to me

They said, ‘I’ll stop being NASTY for a Z Phi B!!!”

They performed a choppa style stroll that went so hard Valencia had to cheer them on. Her mother begged her to be a Zeta but she wasn’t interested in pledging.

“ALRIGHT LADIES!!!! LET THESE MEN DO THEIR THANG!”

The Que Dogs stepped up. They all wore skull masks in their colors to conceal their faces so Valencia didn’t know which one Erik was.

“FUCK IT UP!!!!”

Down in the valley, woh ohh ohh ohh!

There is a place that I long to go!

The name of this place rings in my ear!

Omega, Omega, Omega, Omegaaaaaaa!

Land of the Purple and the Gooooold ohhh!

Land of the Purple and the Gold!

They marched up with heavy stomps and enter-linked arms. The room was filled with flashlights from cellphones.

I kNEW THIS GIRL! (bruhs say Yeah)

SHE DATED AN ALPHA! (yeah)

HE BOUGHT HER A HOUSE! (yeah) HE BOUGHT HER A HOUSE!(yeah)

THE SAME GIRL! (yeah)

SHE DATED A SIGMA! (yeah)

HE BOUGHT HER A CAR! (yeah) HE BOUGHT HER A CAR! (yeah)

THE SAME GIRL! (yeah)

SHE DATED A KAPPA! (yeah)

HE BOUGHT HER A BLOAT! (yeah) HE BOUGHT HER A BOAT! (yeah)

THAT SAME GIRL! (yeah)

SHE DATED A QUE! (yeah)

HE GOT HER THE HOUSE, THE CAR, THE BOAT; AND THE PUSSY TOO! AND IM GON’ AIGHT! AIGHT! AND IM GONE AIGHT! AIGHT!

Valencia clapped and cheered with a big smile on her face. She recognized that voice. It had to be Erik leading that chant.

They circled each other, barking and howling. It was a turn on for sure. They finally removed their masks and tossed them to the side. Seeing Erik perform had Valencia feeling extra giddy.

The charismatic dance that included jumping, splits, torquing bodies in the air — it’s called “hopping” — is a very athletic show that requires extensive practice to get the mostly synchronized routines down. Those are the videos that pop up on social media, the group breaking out in a routine in the middle of a crowd. The bent just-so elbows and hands pointed at a specific angle — the pose to signify an Omega — that’s what overwhelmed the crowd. The tongue featured in nearly all of those photos — sticking out at odd angles, hanging down — that’s because people in the fraternity consider themselves “dogs.” Atomic Dogs.

The way Erik led the stroll had Valencia stunned. She wasn’t the only woman that felt that way. When they finished, the applause surrounding them was deafening. Erik dabbed up his brothers excitedly and even when they finished, they continued to bark and stick their tongues out savagely. That same tongue that was licking her pussy earlier. Erik scanned the crowd and he spotted Valencia. He made his way over towards her, Cindy watching with nosy eyes.

“Did you like our stroll?!”

“YEAH!” Valencia shouted.

“You look amazing,” Erik pulled her in, “You gon’ have all my attention now…”

Cindy gave her friend a look before slipping away to watch her man do his thing. Andrea cheered and jumped up and down when James stepped up to perform with his Kappa brothers. Erik stood behind Valencia with his arms wrapped around her waist while they watched. Valencia sipped from her solo cup, the tequila already making her tipsy. She scanned the room and noticed Dior and her older sister, Jeanette, watching her with hard eyes. Valencia gave them a strange look before Erik distracted her with his lips on her neck.

What is a nupe? Is it a name understood by few, used by many,and respected by all? Is a NUPE a man of Kappa third, a "son" Diggs second and a child of God first? Is a NUPE a Greek Step Shower, a Lady Mind Blower, and a Pretty Ass Bow Thrower? it is also ever man dreams to become one and every woman desire to have one beside her! It's what a Alpha wanna be and a Que Dawg aint. It's what a Sigma try to be and what an Iota aint.!! YO YO!

Erik threw up a fist to cheer his friend on. Others joined in as well. They finished and the Alphas did their thing. Valencia downed the rest of her drink and asked for a refill while Erik was on his second drink of the evening. He was drinking on Hennessy mixed with Hypnotic. A drink he said was nicknamed ‘Incredible Hulk’. When they finished their strolls, the party commenced.

The tequila gave Valencia some courage. She was bent over with her cup in her hand, shaking her ass on Erik’s crotch. He had his cup in one hand and his other hand on her spine, guiding her. He would roll his hips so she could feel his bulge. They weren’t the only ones getting down. D9 parties are known to be wild. Sex-filled and rowdy.

“Let me get you another drink…”

Valencia didn’t need another one but she agreed. Two drinks in and she was feeling loose. Erik disappeared with her cup and Valencia waited. Someone bumped her shoulder hard and she stumbled in her heels. A random girl with a big natural fro helped her and they both looked towards the direction of who did it. Valencia noticed Jeanette giving her a dirty look.

“BITCH!” Valencia yelled.

“What the fuck is her problem?” The girl questioned angrily.

“I don’t even know that bitch!”

One thing about Valencia, she can throw hands. Don’t let her shyness fool you. Erik returned with her drink and noticed the rage on her face.

“What’s wrong?”

“Some stupid bitch bumped me on purpose. I don’t even know this chick…”

Erik searched the room. Valencia took her drink and Erik leaned down to kiss her lips.

“I’ll be fine.” Valencia said.

“Come dance with me…”

They went to the dance floor again and her ass was on him again. Erik held her hand up while she expertly whined her hips. They locked eyes and Erik bit his lip at her. She loved seeing him in his glasses, but when he didn’t wear them she could really get a good look at his eyes. Dark and sexy. Erik pulled her up and he started touching all over her openly.

“You’re the most beautiful girl in here…so damn fine.”

Valencia blushes.

“Thank you, My Poet.”

“YA’LL READY TO GET NASTY?!!!”

“Ahhh shit,” Erik noticed his line brothers approaching him, “Here y’all niggas go!”

Valencia stepped to the side, laughing at Erik trying to fight off his friends playfully.

The crowd parted like the Red Sea and the woman that bumped Valencia started to perform for Erik. Erik looked her up and down with amusement. Valencia looked between them both, her smile replaced with a look of annoyance. The chick got up in Erik’s face and hopped up, wrapping her legs around him. The room got loud and wild. Valencia was almost knocked down. Granted, Erik wasn’t her man officially, but who the fuck did she think she was? Erik laughed and the sight of him laughing pissed Valencia off. He put her down and the bitch kissed him. Valencia turned to walk back to the bar. She was livid.

Valencia sat her cup down and shook her head. She tried to calm down. Maybe she was over exaggerating. She walked away so fast, she probably missed Erik telling the chick off. But still, it hurt a little. Valencia knew all too well about being cheated on and played with. It happened to her twice. If she was going to give Erik a chance, he needed to be honest and not lead her on.

“Valencia…”

She turned and came face to face with Dior.

“What is your girls problem?!” Valencia argued.

Dior snorted a laughter.

“That’s my sister Jeanette. I heard from Skai that you had a crush on him…too bad he’s not available, sis.”

“Let me guess, he’s dating your sister?”

“Yeah, pretty fucking much. That’s his ex. They broke up because he was going to the military. Now that he’s back, they’re tryna connect again.”

Valencia glared at Dior. She didn’t believe any of it.

“Don’t believe me? Go ask him then.”

Valencia looked towards the crowd She hesitated before turning her eyes back towards Dior.

“Why the fuck are you even telling me this? Because if it’s to piss me off it’s definitely working.” Valencia quipped.

“I just thought you should know. Better sooner than later, right? How would you feel if you found out about it later?”

“Girl, please. I can see right through you. I don’t want Isaiah, so why are you so mad? Give it up.”

Valencia walked away. She had to before she did something reckless. Plus, it wasn’t worth it. Erik wasn’t her man and she wasn’t going to fight over him. She’ll simply walk away, no big deal. One thing for certain, Valencia can move on and never look back.

She left that party as fast as she could.

_________

Fresh face and in pajamas, Valencia sat at the desk in her dorm, the only light coming from her laptop. The tequila had given her a headache. She massaged her temples while ignoring her phone. Erik had called and texted her, wondering where she was. She was in her feelings honestly and wanted nothing to do with him and that party. Maybe she needed to sleep it off. It hurt so bad because she really liked him. He didn’t have to play along. If that’s your ex, why even entertain that mess? These are the games she’s not willing to play.

-How’s everything going with your crush? ����

Valencia typed a reply.

-Not so good. He isn’t my crush anymore 😪 he just played in my face. Men ain’t shit.

She shut her laptop and climbed into bed to try and get some sleep. Dreams of Erik took over her mind in slumber.

You see that q-dog over there? Play with em’ if you want to and he’ll break your heart…

@goddessofthundathighs @theegoldenchild @hearteyes-for-killmonger @imagining-greatness @chaneajoyyy @uzumaki-rebellion @theeblackmedusa @lisayourworries @ratedbadgal @bombshellbre95 @cecereads209 @cancerianprincess @dameshaemonique @6lack-1otus @thickemadame @thickeeparker @stinkalinkkkk @ehniki @electrixit @prettyisasprettydoes1306 @bakarisprxncess @melodicheauxxlovesfood @melodichaeuxx-lacritquexx @bxolux @sweet2krazee @bluesole16 @ispywithmylileye @geemamii @unbotheredblackchild @nubianbabee @adoreesun @blackpinup22 @nayaxwrites @dersha89 @honeytoffee @thickianaaaa @modelmemoirs @why-wait-4-eventually @queenfaithmarie @angelicniah @soulfulbeauty19 @aijha @novaniskye @princessxotwod @callmemckenzieee @blowmymbackout @lahuttor @momobaby227 @blackerthings @kenbieee

[butchersboobs]

Twist (Part Three)

A Billy Butcher POV fanfic

NSFW under the cut - MDNI

Part One | Part Two

_________

I’ve been up all night. Pacin' the flat. Swearin' at the telly. Drinkin'. 

But nuffink I do stops me keep 'earin you tellin' Ollie I ain't never comin' back - it's on repeat in me 'ead, over 'n over again til I wanna punch me fist through the fuckin' wall.

The look on 'is little face… Nah, I can’t let that stand. You don’t get to pull that kinda stunt 'n get away wiv it. 

So the next day, I'm back knockin' at yer door, shoulders square, ready for anuvver barney.

I expect ya t'tell me t'fuck off, slam the door in me face, maybe even call the ol' bill on me. But ya don’t. You open the door quick, lookin' like you’ve been waittin' for me t'get 'ere. “Come in” ya say, like nuffink's 'appened.

For a second, I just stand there - blinkin' like a twat. “You what?”

“Come in, Billy” you repeat, calm as ya like.

It throws me completely - but I'll be fucked if I'm gonna let you know that. I just shove me way past ya, an' 'ead towards yer livin' room.

You forget - I fuckin' know you. I don’t trust ya one bit - yer up to summink.

The place is quiet - too quiet. No Ollie running about, no squeals o'laughter. “Where’s the boy?” I ask, me voice sharp.

“He’s at preschool,” you say, closin' the door.

Me jaw tightens. I feel like I’ve been set up. “Right. So what’s this, then? Some kinda ambush?”

You shake yer 'ead, looking… sad. Guilty, maybe. Good. You fuckin' should be, after the shit you pulled yesterday. “Billy, I just… I wanted to talk.”

I let out a bitter laugh. “Talk? Oh, now ya wanna fuckin' talk. After breakin’ that poor lad's 'eart?”

“I know,” ya say, and there’s this tremble in yer voice. You're fillin' up. And for a split second, I wanna comfort ya - never could stand it, seein' ya cry. But I soon fuck that train o'fort off. Fuck that.

“I know, Billy. And I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. It was cruel, and I feel terrible about it.”

“So ya fuckin’ should,” I snap, but the fight’s gone out o'me a bit.

You take a deep breff, steadyin' yerself. “God, he was so upset. He cried himself to sleep last night, thinking he'd never see you again. I can’t do it to him, Billy. I… I want him to see you. Regularly.”

Well that stops me in me tracks. “What?”

“You can see him, as often as you like. We just need to figure out some ground rules,” you say, foldin' yer bloody arms again - but it ain't in anger this time - more like yer tryna 'old yerself togevver. “For Ollie’s sake. He needs stability, Billy.”

Me anger flares up again, hot 'n sharp. “Ground rules? You takin' the fuckin' piss? You fink you get to call the shots after what you've done?”

You flinch, but ya don’t back down. “I’m trying to do what’s best for him, Billy. Can we just - can we not fight about this? Please?”

I look daggers at ya, every muscle in me body tense. Because I know yer right. As much as it boils me piss - you're right. I sigh, draggin' me 'and through me beard. “Fine. Ground rules. Whatever. Just say what you gotta say.”

And then you go straight f'me fuckin' jugular.

“I need you to promise not to tell him you’re his dad…”

The fuckin' balls on you. Fuckin'ell. I'm goona blow...

“You can fuck right off wi'that shite - are you seriously tellin’ me I’ve gotta keep me gob shut 'n pretend I’m just some random fuckin' bloke, while my son - my fuckin' son - walks 'round not knowing the troof? You’re havin’ a fuckin' laugh!"

“For fucksake Billy - let me finish” you shout back, and there's tears fallin' now. “I’m not saying you can never tell him you're his dad. I mean… just… don't tell him yet. Let him get to know you first. Let him feel comfortable. Please.”

I’m so angry I can 'ardly see straight. I need ta fuck off out of 'ere, sharpish - cos if I don't? I'll fuckin' frottle ya. 

But outta nowhere, I fink of Ollie. 'Is little grin, the way he ran t'me like I was his 'ole world. I can't walk out on 'im. E's only little, I don't wanna confuse the lad.

“Fine,” I say through gritted teef. “But don’t fink I’m fuckin' 'appy about it.”

“Thank you,” you whisper, wiping at your eyes.

You try t'pull yerself togevva - you gotta pick 'im up in a minute, ya tell me. And outta nowhere, you ask if I wanna come wiv ya - maybe take 'im for a burger t'the park. Me gut's tellin' me ta tell ya t'fuck off. I wanna see 'im on my terms, not yours. But then Ollie pops back in me 'ead again, an' I imagine 'ow 'is face is gonna light up, and I find meself sayin' yes.

But the second I agree, the panic sets in. What the fuck am I doin'? I’ve never looked after a kid in me life, let alone taken one out on me own. What if 'e falls off the fuckin' climbin' frame and cracks 'is bloody 'ead open? What if I feed 'im the wrong fing? What if I fuck it all up?

But I shove it down, 'ard. I'll do it fo 'im. For my boy.

—-----

We walk just down the road to Ollie’s preschool, an' it’s awkward as fuck. Neaver of us says much, there's just the sound of me bloody great clod'oppers on the pavement and the occasional cough. I can feel ya lookin' at me out the corner of yer eye, probly worryin' I’m gonna fuck it up.

You stop in front'o the preschool gates, fiddlin' wiv yer coat zip, and for a second, I fink about sayin' summink. Summink… normal. But then the gate opens, and the noise o'kids pours out. Me froat tightens.

An' then I see 'im. My boy. 'Is little 'ead bobs up, scannin' the line o'parents, and when 'e clocks me, it’s like the sun’s just come out. “Billy!” 'e shouts, droppin' whatever e’s holdin' and leggin' it towards me.

I don’t fink I’ve ever been hit so 'ard in me life - not by a punch, not by a bottle, not by anyfin. 'E crashes inta me, little arms wrappin' 'round me legs, face liokin' up up at me wiv that massive grin of 'is. “You're back you're back! Yay yay yay”

I crouch down, me 'ands on 'is tiny shoulders, and for a second, I can’t say a bloody word. I swallow 'ard. “Course I am, mate,” I finally manage, me voice rough. “I told ya I'd be back, dinni, ay?”

You’re standin' there, watchin' us, and when I glance atcha, there’s tears in yer eyes. It pisses me off a bit, but I push it aside for Ollie’s sake.

“Hey, Ollie,” you say, your voice gentle. “How would you like to go for lunch with Billy? Maybe to the park after?”

Well - 'e lights up like a fuckin' Christmas tree, bouncin' on the balls of 'is feet. “Yes! Can we, Billy? Please?”

I'm desperately tryna keep me face neutral, but inside I’m shittin' meself. “Yeah, alright, little man. Let’s do it.”

You pass me 'is little backpack, and the strap feels weird in me 'and - too small, too light. I feel like I shouldn’t be trusted wiv summink so important. “Have fun,” ya say, but yer voice is quieter now, almost 'esitant.

I nod, not trustin' meself t'speak wivout crackin'. I take Ollie’s 'and, n' we 'ead down the street, 'is little legs tryna match me stride. He’s chattin' away, excited about lunch, excited about the park, excited about playin' dinosaurs and an 'undred uvver fings I don’t fully follow.

And me? I’m just tryna keep it togevva - pretend I know what the fuck I’m doing, while 'is tiny hand in mine makes me feel like I’m 'olding the most precious fing in 'ole fuckin' world.

‐—-----

We 'it the burger joint first. Thought I’d feel a bit more confident starting there. I mean, 'ow 'ard can it be t'sit down 'n eat? Turns out, a lot bloody 'arder than you’d fink.

Ollie’s bouncin' in 'is seat before we’ve even bloody ordered, natterin' away about dinosaurs again, which ones eat meat, which ones eat plants, 'n which ones'd like burgers if they was still kickin' about. I’m noddin' along, tryna keep up, but troof be told, I’m out me depth.

“Do you like T. Rexes, Billy?” 'e asks me for the tenf time, 'is little face all serious.

“Course I do,” I say, crackin' a grin. “Mean little bastards, ain’t they?”

'E giggles, and it’s a sound I don’t fink I’ve ever 'eard before. Pure joy. It does summink to me, 'earing 'im laugh like that.

When the food comes, I figure e’ll settle down, but nope. He’s dippin' chips in ketchup, then lickin' it off like it’s some kinda game. Gets it all over 'is face. The table. 'Is shirt. Jesus Christ.

��Oi, Ollie, mate,” I say, tryna sound firm but not too 'arsh. “The chips go in yer mowf, not everywhere else.”

'E grins up at me, cheeky as anyfin, an' shoves an 'andful into his gob. “Like this?” 'e mumbles  'round a gob full o'food.

I can’t 'elp it - I laugh. “Yeah, just like that. Perfict.”

By the time we’re done, the table looks like a bloody war zone. Ketchup smeared everywhere, squashed chips scattered, and I’m pretty sure e's got 'alf a milkshake down 'is front. But e’s grinnin' from ear to ear, and I feel like I’m doin' alright.

“Ready for the park, then?” I ask, standin' up and grabbin' some napkins to clean 'im up.

“Yeah!” 'e shouts, jumpin' out 'is seat like I’ve just told him we’re off to Disney World.

We walk over to the park, and e’s practically draggin' me there, 'is little hand clutchin' mine. It’s weird, 'oldin 'is 'and like this. Feels… right.

When we get there, e’s off like a shot up the climbin' frame, shoutin' down at me to watch 'im. “Look, Billy! I’m up really high!”

My 'eart’s in my froat the entire time. E’s bloody fearless, this kid, swingin' off bars, 'angin upside down like e’s got no sense o'danger. I’m standin' there, arms out, ready to catch 'im if 'e so much as wobbles.

“You alright up there, mate?” I call, tryna sound casual while me stomach’s doin' bloody backflips.

“Yeah!” he yells back, laughin'. “I’m the bestest at climbing!”

“Yeah, I can see that,” I mutter, more to meself than 'im.

Eventually, 'e makes his way to the slide, and that’s a bit less terrifyin'. E’s up and down it a dozen times, his laughter echoin' across the park. Uvver parents are 'ere, watching their nippers, chattin' amongst 'emselves. I feel a bit out o'place, like I don’t belong, to be honest. But Ollie’s avin' the time of 'is life - so I don’t let it bovver me.

When 'e finally comes runnin' back over, 'is cheeks are pink an' 'is 'air’s a sweaty mess.  E looks up at me, beamin'. “That was fun! Can we come back tomorrow?”

I crouch down to 'im “We’ll see, mate. We'll see. You 'ad a good then time, yeah?”

“The best!” 'e says, frowin' 'is arms round me neck.

An' just like that, the world stops. It’s just me and 'im, an' I feel summink I ain’t felt in years - peace. Pure, unshakable peace.

“Alrigh', let’s get you 'ome,” I say, standin' up and rufflin' his hair. “Your mum’ll 'ave my 'ead if I keep you out too long.”

He laughs, grabbin' me 'and again as we walk back. 

Maybe - just maybe - I can do this parentin' lark.

_________

Tags: @babyfri3dric3 @dumpy-little-nobody @bohemianblasphemy @smallsadjellyfish @frank3nfag @noonwardmoss @rebelled-angel @karlurbanism @jax-the-oregonian @chocolategiverzombie @scxrchedearf @bluemerakis @enchantedflameandflower @allirose18 @chiefcreatorcreation @bobabilbil

[keyaho]

IDKWYLM PRESENTS:

summary: a night in becomes a night of interrogation. co-writer: @zillasvilla

NEW TAGLIST:

@nayaesworld || @overrboarrd || @sillyteecup || @novahreign

@ranikyani || @theogbadbitch || @kumkaniudaku || @that-one-anxious-mango

@luvrsluxe || @zunibugsiren || @wabi-sabi1090 || @ovohanna24 || @trippiexlove

@queenofklonnie22 || @queeny23 || @simplyzeeka || @kaylalb || @cheriealya

@bigjuiciisushii || @talkswithdesi || @onherereading || @heytaewrites || @playgurlxoxo

Blaire's smile could hardly be contained as she half ran through the house to the living room. Setting up, Brennan and Ciara were swaying to the raunchy musical playlist. 

"Josie is coming!" Blaire blurts out. 

She already had her phone turned for Brennan to see it. Their older sister, Blake, was a world traveler. After finishing college with her Masters in Business, she decided to just travel and in that time managed to create a successful international real estate business for two years now. Their father had been a big investor and with his connections to construction companies and other manufactures, it just made sense. 

Blake had kept in touch regularly, but this would be the first time she's had some real downtime. 

“Bull! She told me she was going to Italy for a few weeks!” Brennan grabbed the phone in shock, “First of all, why didn’t she put this in the group chat!”

"She wanted to surprise Mom and Dad! Shut up!" 

Ciara looked up from the large balloons for one of their games, caught off guard. "Blaire, thats some foul language." 

"Brennan talks too much," she explained. "She would have told them as soon as Josie told her." 

Brennan rolls her eyes, and hands her back the phone to grab her own from the coffee table, “Daddy hates surprises. I would’ve hinted at it.” 

"Daddy also hates when you eat his snacks. You would have told him." She stomps. 

“Matta-a-fact, where’s Terry?” 

Before Blaire could respond the back sliding doors were opened, and shoes were kicked off. “Yo!”  Terry’s voice could be heard first as the steps got closer. Both dressed in just sweatpants and black tees, Aaron and Terry had interrupted their moment.  “Where are Marcus and Angela.?”

“Working.” Brennan moves around Terry to step into Aaron’s open arms. “Dad is helping a friend move-in and mama is at some awards show doing hair.”

Blaire closed out the text thread after sending Josie a reply. Her vision suddenly changed when Terrence tipped her head up so she was looking at him. That same goofy smile on his face. He winked and his never ending need to woo her made her give a half smile. 

“So, y’all are here alone?” Aaron asks after placing a kiss on Brennan's cheek. 

“Ain’t none of that cause they are coming back tonight,” Ciara cuts in. “Plus their sister is coming.”

Aaron and Terry shared a look. They had heard of their older sister, but hadn't met her before. Usually, she'd pay for Brennan and Blaire to fly to wherever she is and those times Terry and Aaron opted to stay home. They could afford it, but it was rare they had that kind of time together. They didn't want to intrude too much. 

"Blake is coming?" Terry asks. 

Blaire nods, her smile spreading at the mention of her sister. "I asked if she could get me some pointe shoes!" 

In her excitement, she held her hand out for Terry's, pulling him towards the kitchen area. 

“I need your help.” Aaron whispers as Brennan drags him upstairs to her room. 

It was on rare days when both of her parents were working and she could have him upstairs in her room with the door closed. So whenever she had the change, she took it. . 

“Well forget me then,” Ciara throws her hands up in a ‘what about me motion'.

“We’ll be back in 30 minutes Cici,” Brennan says. 

"The kitchen is an open concept," Blaire says. "I'm right here!" 

"Blaire, you ain't gotta yell at me," Ciara pretends to cry dramatically. 

Brennan stops at the balcony that looks down into the living room, she looks at Ciara with her left eyebrow arched. “Really bitch? Just call Tyreek.”

“Ion want that nigga.” Ciara stops in disgust, “boy is still on a second grade reading level.” 

"That is unfortunate." Blaire adds while pulling the honeydew melon from the freezer. 

She had prepared her watermelons and sugary pineapples earlier. Most of the snacks tonight weren't textures she liked, other than the massive bag of rice cakes and plain ruffles. She was sure Terrence and Aaron ordered wings. She pushed the melon towards Terrence so he could cut it. 

"I have to start the cinnamon rolls. Do you want to help me?" Blaire asks, looking towards Ciara as she turns on the sink to wash her hands. 

Terrence huffs, but cuts the melons down for her. Ciara jumps up from the floor and skips into the kitchen to wash her hands. 

"Bet." 

Once she set Ciara up with the recipe, Blaire slid onto one of the stools on the opposite side of the island. Their notebooks were open to a math problem from their calculus mock exam. The questions would be very similar to what's coming up on their unit test. Blaire loved the order of numbers. Everything had it's place, but she hated trying to understand that order. 

Next to her, Terrence had already worked through the problem. He understood the order a little bit different. He'd had always been more math inclined. He leaned in, throwing his arm around the back of her chair after pulling her closer. He read the question to her. Right in her ear with a soft tone. 

"I know what it's says, Terrence," Blaire huffs. 

"Start over," he replies, "I'll talk you through it." 

Ciara cleared her throat, hand over her chest as if she was appalled. "In front of my cinnamon rolls?" 

"Close your eyes then," Terry replied. "Mi ke hinka mi lenga den su boka," he grumbled. 

Blaire turned to him with wide eyes. She'd been learning a little bit of his native tongue, but this was the first time she understood the whole sentence. 

"Bo ta komprondé mi?" He asked. A slow smile spread across his face. 

"Yes." 

"Blaire." He leaned in again. "Bo no tin niun idea kon largu mi a warda riba esei." 

Aaron pulled out his history homework from his book bag he left the night before by her desk. While he was a straight-A student, anything related to the subject has never been his thing. History was his current block from maintaining an all A report card. Brennan loved all things history and it was currently the only honors class she had with him.

“This is easy Aaron.” She says from his lap with her own completed homework in front of  them on the desk. “You’re just going over how Jim Crow laws affected the Black community after the Civil War ended, plus knowing the history behind the 13th, 14th & 15th amendments that were put in place.”

Their teacher had assigned a history paper on topics they learned throughout the year or on a topic they felt so strongly about. Aaron had chosen to write about the effects of Jim Crow and the disadvantage it put Black Americans in. While she wanted to focus on the impact the Harlem Renaissance had on Black-American culture. 

“The books in the school libra-”

“Those have been outdated for years and the librarian refuses to order new ones. Blaire and I go to the public library.” She gets up from his lap to get a book from her dresser. “I was using this to help study for finals.”

It had been a reference book that was thicker than their textbook. Each page went into detail of all the laws and amendments put in place and how Jim Crow laws came to be. 

“The material she gives us in the packets is dumbed down.” 

“You’re a lifesaver, you know that.” 

He grabs the book and her hand before she could sit on the bed and pulls her into his lap. A quick kiss was placed on her cheek and she watched him flip through the pages and jot down a few notes. He would finish the paper later, though he always likes to prepare himself and find all of his resources before starting. Ten minutes later he had packed his things up and tossed it by the window to grab on his way out.

“Excited to see your sister?” 

“Always.” She mutters. The last time she saw her they spent a week in New York for Fashion week for Brennan and Broadway shows for Blaire. “It's been a while since she came to the house.”

He nods, and rubs his hands up and down her sides gently–feeling her relax into his touch. Aaron presses a kiss to the corner of her mouth before whispering, “How much time we got left before they come looking?”

“Ten minutes.”

“Josie’s here!” Brennan was the first to notice the sleek matte blue Aston Martin pulling behind the house to the garage. Her and Blaire had been quick to slip on some shoes mid-game of uno and race to the door. 

Blake had pulled into the garage to hide her car before their parents got home. Before even shutting off the car, the door had opened and there stood her younger twin sisters.

“Shit–scared the hell out of me.”

“So,” Brennan moves her hands around dramatically while making a face. “Why didn't you tell me you were coming?”

“If I wanted you to tell mom and dad I was in town, then I would’ve told you.” She pops the trunk to grab out her luggage and several shoppings bags. “Be a good little sister and help me please.”

"I told you!" Blaire adds. 

“Whatever.” Brennan waves them off and heads to the trunk, “What did you get me?”

Blake shakes her head and steps out with her brown louis vuitton bag and motorola razor.

“Can we go in the house first?”

They helped Josie get settled into the main house in her room first. They were glued to her side as they walked back towards the poolhouse. To Brennan and Blaire, Josie hung the moon. They had been eight when she graduated highschool and left for college. She came home sporadically, but they could tell the wandering spirit was starting to bloom. One night she called home saying she was in Ireland for a semester. After that, Josie had visited six countries by the new year. 

"What do I keep hearing about these boys?" Josie stops them outside the poolhouse door. "Sneaking into your bedrooms? Hiding in the closets?" 

Blaire bit down on her bottom lip. "Terrence uses the door sometimes." 

Brennan rolls her eyes. "That's not what she meant." 

"They're twins?" She asked, folding her arms over her chest. "Who is who?" 

Brennan looked over Josie's shoulder to the two figures peeking through the curtains at the windows. They noticed her and jumped back, their shadows scattering away. 

"Aaron is my boyfriend. Terry," Brennan trails off with an eye roll, "you'll know which one he is." 

She looked to Blaire. "Is he your boyfriend?" 

Shaking her head, Blaire wrung her hands together. "No." 

It was hard not to laugh and Josie turned towards the poolhouse. "Yeah, right." 

“If it acts like a duck, looks like a duck, then it's a boyfriend.” Brennan walks ahead of them inside.

"He's not a duck." Blaire whispers as she follows behind them.

“It's a figure of speech Blaire,” Josie explains.

"But ducks can't be boyfriends." She rationalizes. 

"That's why it's a figure of speech. Not a fact." She looked to Brennan and then the poolhouse. 

Ciara had been pulling out the cinnamon rolls per Blaire’s instructions when she saw Terry and Aaron off playing in the family room like they hadn’t been watching them through the windows. She knew enough about the older sister, and had even met her a few times, when she was in town. 

“Blaire, you made cinnamon rolls?" Josie made a beeline to the kitchen the moment she smelled the sweet treat coming out of the oven after opening the door. “Hey Ciara,”  She was quick to grab a paper towel and cut out a corner piece–forgoing the homemade glaze that was being warmed up. 

"Hey Blake! And I made them.”

Blaire purses her lips, “you almost burned them.” She didn't want to start a second batch, but her hands were on the flour container before she realized it. 

“Listen here,” Ciara throws her hands up! “Y’all got a fancy ass oven timer, ever heard of a regular kitchen timer?"

Blaire glanced down at the timer. "It's not on." 

"Why are they hiding?" Josie asks. 

“Terry’s a scary ass anyway.” Brennan goes over to the couch they were sitting on, "Aaron.” She coos as she walked up behind him where he was sitting on the couch pretending to read something.  

He tilts his head back to look up at her with a soft smile.

“Come in the kitchen."

Aaron nudged Terry to follow behind him, both brothers slightly nervous to meet the oldest sibling. Josie eyed them both, staring at the very different twins. Then she thought how they were paired off and it made sense. She watched Terry make his way to Blaire's side, standing slightly behind her.

“Blaire is not the shield you think she is,” Josie bites into the roll and glances over at Aaron who had a death grip on Brennan’s hand. “What, y’all think I’m like my mama?”

Aaron nervously rubs the back of his neck, “Hi, I’m Aaron.”

"This is Terrence," Blaire points to the boy heavy breathing behind her. 

"Terry," Terry says, glancing to Josie. "She won't call me Terry." 

Blaire dumps the flour into a sifter with the baking soda and small pinch of salt. "Your name is Terrence." 

“So, ya'll the boys mama says been sneaking in their rooms.” Josie nods between bites. “Interesting. Oh Cici, I have a surprise for you.”

Ciara perks up, and instantly rushes to her side. “What is it, a bag, a car, a house in Greece?  The cover of Essence magazine?”

Aaron and Terry weren't sure what to think about Josie. They heard a lot about her from the girls, but in person they didn't know what to say. 

“I won’t even buy Brennan a Van Cleef set,” She shakes her head and looks out the kitchen windows to see the tall figure walking up to the door. “You think imma buy you a house? 

“Which aint nothing but a check that you’ll make back the next morning.“ Brennan pouts. 

"I'm not buying yall spoiled asses shit," she replies. "Carson is coming!" She paused. "We're, um, close." 

“Ugh that nigga,” Ciara dramatically whines, but was more than happy to see her older brother. She shrugs at Blake’s last comment. “I knew that already. I saw you sneaking out the back door last summer when I went to visit.”

The wings arrived as the spades table got loud, Josie yelling to Ciara about her books, Terry and Brennan-for once-working as a team. The bowl of money next to the table was filled to the brim as neither one of them wanted to be outdone by the other. 

Blaire sat on one side of the coffee table, setting up her side of the chess board. The maroon chess pieces were new, she didn't like the plain black and white that was considered "classic". Opposite the maroon set was a dark olive set she ordered a few weeks ago. Her and Aaron were co captains for their schools Chess Team and competed regularly. This game was a strategy session. There was a tournament coming up and they were trying to figure out how to win against their rivals from Hillcrest. Currently, they were 2-3 against them, losing their last tournament to a scholars mate set up. The four moves haunted Blaire and Aaron the entire ride home as they tried to recreate the pathway to it. 

Blaire began rearranging the pieces to mimic one of the strategy they used, she'd work backwards to figure out how to counter it. Aaron preferred to work from top of game to the end, so they often met in the middle. Carson had been sitting next to Blake with his hand on her thigh while keeping score with his own laugh. “You should’ve played the King the last round, Peanut.” He looks over at his younger sister. “Even I know that.” 

Carson was Ciara’s older brother who went off and joined the Marines before she could turn five. Though he made sure to write and call her whenever he could, sending pictures and souvenirs from all the places he visited. In return their parents would fly her out some weeks of the summer when he had the time. Though it had been a complete surprise to learn his little sister was bestfriends with his girlfriend’s sisters. 

“Hollon, hollon, how was I supposed to know Brennan had that ace of spade!” Ciara defends after throwing out her only spade left, a king.

Josie shakes her head, “That’s the first card you look for!”

Between the two teams Brennan and Terry had eight books and a possible, only to come out with ten books at the end of the game. So far they were at a total of 214 points and needed at least another 300 hundred to win the bowl of money. 

“I thought she played it!” 

“Ooh, sucks to be you Ciara.” Terry laughs and begins shuffling the deck to start a new game. 

Josie shakes her head and looks back at her youngest sister, playing a game of chess with Aaron, which made her wonder about the dynamics of the twins' relationships.  

"Explain to me," Josie says, "how that," she points to Aaron and Blaire focused on the chess pieces, "and ya'll, don't work?" '

Brennan cuts the deck after Terry passes them to her so she could deal out a hand. “Terry’s a fuckboy.” 

Terry cuts his eyes at Brennan. 

"Oh," Josie says.

"You get on my nerves," Terry replies. 

He glances at Blaire who is focus on the moving pieces. He himself knew how to play, but Blaire usually beat him in under five minutes. She could be super competitive when she wanted.

“He smells like ass,”

“No he doesn’t,” Blaire sighs from her seat. 

Carson looks up, “So, y’all just fight like cats and dogs?”

“Pretty much,” Ciara chimes in. “It’s verbal today, tomorrow? We’ll never know,” she shrugs, "but, I'll break it down because they are going to argue. Blaire wanders and the one time Aaron had to go find her he was stressed out." 

“I was not stressed.” Aaron looks up after moving one of his pieces. “She was over stimulated and trying to regulate. I'd never seen her like that before!" 

“Aaron, baby.” Brennan shakes her head like he was naive. “You also started to get over stimulated. You called me stressin' because she was stressin'." 

Ciara hides her laugh. "You aren't as stern as Terry." She looked at her cards as they were dealt. "He can be too much," she says, using Blaire's language to describe the rougher twin, "but he can get her attention." 

Aaron shrugged. "She doesn't make noise when she walks off. She just…" 

"Vanishes," Josie laughs. “Trust me, I know.” 

The few times she’s watched them, she noticed her younger sister's ability to go very quiet. She used to get worried when she would wander off while they were out eating or shopping. 

"Aaron and Brennan work best because she likes to fight. Aaron is non-confrontational." 

Carson points between Blaire and Terry at the table. "But Terry isn't Blaire's boyfriend?"

"No!" Blaire huffs. "Terrence is not." 

Terry smirks with his own head shake. “Yet.”

Carson. “Ciara, do you have a boyfri-”

Ciara holds a hand up to cut him off. “We not talkin about me right now.” 

“She dumped her last nigga cause of his reading level” Terry snickers. “Ole boy reading l-l-like th-this-” 

“Please don’t remind me,” Ciara groans. “It wouldn’t be bad if he didn’t write like a four year old.” 

“I tried to tutor him.” Aaron pushes his glasses up and watches Blaire’s next move. He followed her strategy quickly and was already thinking of his next move. “Nigga just dumb.”

“Such potty mouths y’all have,” Josie stifles a laugh at the highschool drama.  

Always ready to poke fun, Ciara pointed towards Blaire. "She called me a bitch this morning." 

Sliding her piece into place, Blaire looked up at Ciara. "No. I said beach! Specifically because we were planning a beach trip."  

Brennan smiles. "At the end of the day, I like my nerd." 

While the girls had changed into their pajamas for the night, the guys had cleaned up and chose a movie to watch. Josie took this as a chance to sit down and talk with the twins. 

“Aaron, Terrence,” Josie waves them over. 

She had been sitting under the back patio checking some emails when she noticed them emptying the trash and recycling. The brothers looked between each other nervously and headed her way. 

“Sit, I'm almost done.”

The twins sat across from her as she finished out the last of her emails and set up her calendar for the next few months. She would soon need to book flights, but that could wait as she closed her computer and pushed her glasses over her head.

“Despite my sisters thinking they grown, my parents have said nothing but nice things about you two." Josie leaned back in her chair. "Even my Mom, but," She trails off. "Brennan and Blaire both require more care." 

"They are pretty good at managing themselves," Aaron says. 

"They have too. Mom and Dad taught them to take care of themselves, sure, but we know they are on opposite ends of the spectrum from us." Clasping her hands together, Josie eyes the two boys in front of her. "Brennan is more impulsive, blunt, sporadic, but she easily forgets things and has difficulty organizing her thoughts. She gets the 'blank face' and zones out while she tries to remember why she came into a room." 

"Oh,' Aaron says. 

"She'd light a candle and put it next to a hanging towel." It was an extreme way to view Brennan, but not far off from her childhood behavior. "She hides it well. Brennan is more self conscious about things. She wants to be seen as normal as possible." 

"I've never seen that part of her." Aaron says, "I mean, she rambles a lot but I just thought it was a girl thing." 

Josie turned her attention to Terry. "I'm not sure how you do it, but Blaire isn't a talker." 

"She talks to me," Terry says, "I mean I bug her, but she talks. A lot really." He scratches the back of his neck. 

"Do you like her?" Josie asks. 

"Yeah. I do." 

"She barely acknowledges him." Aaron snorts. "He's ignored more often than not." 

"That's how I know she's overstimulated. I leave her alone and she comes and gets me when she's ready." 

"But," Josie prods. 

"She can be mean." Terry admitted. "When she's aggravated or something is bothering her that she doesn't want to talk about it." 

"She has more needs and she more reserved than Brennan. You've seen her meltdowns?" 

Terry nods, though it didn't turn him away from Blaire. If anything, he wanted to be around more. 

"Yeah," he whispers. "I have once. It came out of no where. She was exhausted after it. I didn't talk to her for a few days because she wanted to be alone." 

Josie leans forward, her hands clasped together.  "She gets embarrassed about them. We aren't sure what triggers her." 

Theres a break of silence between them before Josie looks at the house.

"I know my Dad gave you the talk about them. They both get attached quickly and Blaire isn't a fan of change so she's going to push back with you Terry, but, I say all that to say, tread carefully." She paused. "Very carefully." 

[akutasoda]

Can I request Sunday with Noelle reader?

Reader will guide every guest and tell them everything she knew in Penacony, since her job is tour guide.

But in reality, she want to be a knight in Xianzhou Luofu but failed every test dispite she work so hard on it.

Reader is from Luofu, but travel abroad to study life more and try to gain some experiences.

Sorry if my request is weird…

atleast someone believes in me

synopsis - after rejection from the cloud knights you seek a change of pace but there's someone who sees your potential

includes - sunday

warnings - gn!reader, reader is based on noelle, reader is from the xianzhou, fluff, slight angst, rejection?, wc - 1.6k

a/n: your request isn't weird at all!

taglist - @teddirika

failure hits hard for most people, especially when it's somebody's first attempt at achieving their dream. failure becomes a deterrent, planting the idea that their dreams can no longer be accomplished - which can be untrue but since they would be too focused on their failure they can no longer focus on how to improve. people who experience failure often seek comfort in settling for something easy, something that they won't fail at.

you were born and raised on the xianzhou luofu. you grew up alongside the cloud knights and would regularly watch them on patrol and sometimes would even sneak out to watch them fight a wandering mara-struck. your eager curiousity did not go unnoticed by your guardian, who managed to catch hold of somebody willing to grant you some basic training. it boosted your dedication to becoming a cloud knight and eventually you took your training into your own hands.

day in and day out, you would spend toiling over your techniques and ensuring they were perfect. you had a deadline, your birthday was soon approaching and as soon as that passed you would be allowed to join the cloud knights if you're skills passed the test. admittedly you became so wrapped up in your training that you often would forget basic needs but you were determined to become a cloud knight.

your birthday could not have come any sooner. the day after, you were straight out of bed and headed down to enlist into the cloud knights - a few people you knew had recently also enlisted and passed the tests, they told you how you would have no issue and you believed them. when you got there, they accepted your initial application and told you that if you passed the physical trials you would be welcomed into the cloud knights. all those nights, days and evenings had lead up to this very moment. the moment where all your training was meant to pay off and help you achieve your dreams. was... was meant to.

you don't know why or how but you were denied, you were told you're skills just weren't what they were looking for but nothing more. rejection hit you immediately. it tore out your dreams and replaced them with a sense of hopelessness - how could you spend so much of your life dedicated to becoming a cloud knight just to be rejected, surely that meant you couldn't achieve anything right? you returned home with dry tear streaks that were soon replaced when you shut the door.

some may say you overreacted but the rejection really hit you hard. you felt ashamed to still be living on the luofu and desperately searched for elsewhere, you needed a fresh start is what you told yourself. brief words had been overheard about a world called penacony, where dreams can come true. even though your dream was to become a cloud knight, you doubted that could become true and so maybe you could settle for something simpler.

you gathered what little money you had and left for penacony in shame. when you arrived you immediately inquired with the hotel lobby staff about any potential jobs that could be gifted to you - you made sure to specify that they could be anything. one of the workers left for a brief moment before returning and telling you that there was a few jobs available inside the dreamscape. you didn't really care what the job was you just wanted something to distract you from the pain of your rejection from the cloud knights.

unfortunately the only job available was a tour guide. you weren't native to penacony and this was infact your first time even in penacony but it seemed like an opportunity, you could bury yourself in mounds of research into penacony to become a tour guide and not think about the cloud knights. after a long time with bargaining with various officials, you managed to land a job as a tour guide - the only thing you had to do was research all of the dreamscape before your first ever shift.

your habit for hard work had led you to spend hours upon hours staring at the maps of penacony and its dreamscape, reading all of it's history and eventually becoming acquainted with some locals who told you some tips. on your very first shift, you were paired with a young silver haired girl who introduced herself as firefly, she was a fellow tour guide and offered to oversee your first shift to make sure you were good to go. she was a sweet young girl and even complimented your knowledge of penacony even as a newcomer to the land of dreams.

due to your extensive studies, you becane extremely well versed in the knowledge of penacony and it's history. very quickly, more and more newcomers would request your tours as word spread very quickly about your tours. this time as a tour guide served well in gaining experiences and opportunities to learn something new, those that took your tours often would become very chatty. you met all kinds of people from all other the galaxy, except they all had similar reasons for turning to penacony.

you still thought about the cloud knights from time to time. you'd watch the bloodhounds from time to time and they vaguely reminded you of the knights, not by much but enough to drag up unpleasant memories. sometimes you did wonder that if you trained a little bit harder you could retake the test and become a cloud knight - however the idea of failing again would only put a greater shame on you and you didn't want that.

the dreamscape become a comfort to you, the job as a tour guide was alot more fun than anticipated and you enjoyed meeting people from all walks of life. unfortunately, you had now spent a long time in the dreamscape and started seeing the truth beyond golden hours flashing lights and slot machines. one of your tours had been ended abruptly when the person you were helping around slipped into a deeper pocket of the dream - you soon followed just in time.

you were met with familiar yet unfamiliar scenery but what quickly caught your attention was you're tourist being attacked by some kind of walking television and robotic dog. you didn't really think about your actions and instead opted to charge straight ahead to protect the tourist. out of pure habit, you still carried some kind of weapon from your cloud knight training days and it finally payed off - you made quick work of the weird figures and made sure to check on your tourist before looking for a way out.

you wandered the distorted halls with your guest, always keeping them out of harms way but it seemed your saviour came in the form if a certain silver haired halovian. sunday had heard about a tour guide and their tourist being captured into a deeper pocket of the dreamscape, and because it was a more dangerous zone filled with all sorts of memes he figured it would be best if he went himself - it would also help to silence the wanderers.

what sunday wasn't expecting was a trail of dead meme's which eventually lead him to you and your tourist. he was rather impressed a tour guide such as yourself was so capable with a weapon. he made quick work of escorting the two of you into golden hour and sorted out the toruist before turning to you, 'you appear to be quite well versed in combat for a tour guide' he started.

before you had a chance to answer he continued, 'your skills would befit the bloodhounds more no?' you simply shook your head and replied 'my skills are merely acts of self defense nothing more'. sunday frowned slightly before taking a quick glance around golden hour, he turned back to you with a proposition

'it may be optimistic of me but could i offer you some more work? payed of course.' you knew what he was getting at and you sighed before responding

'with all due respect mr.sunday, i don't have an interest in attempting a carer for fighting' you looked down slightly to avoid his gaze which seemed practically suffocating.

'that's a shame then, a tour guide with your skills could be effective in helping those curious enough to get lost in the corrupt parts of the dreamscape', he smiled before continuing

'it shall still be an offer if you wish to accept, but for now may i extend my personal thank you for keeping a paying visitor safe'

sunday's offer really toiled with you for a while. the cloud knights back on the luofu rejected your skills but now somebody was praising them - you felt more inclined to believe the cloud knights. but maybe this was what you needed, it was a fresh start and you were being offered it so sunday wouldn't turn you down right? it would appear not as when you showed up at his office he seemed like he had been expecting you because truth be told, sunday was enamored by your willingness to help those you do and more importantly you're skills in combat.

he had read your employee file, it had all your basic information and when he found out you originated from the xianzhou, he couldn't help but wonder why the cloud knights hadn't scouted out your exceptional skills. however, if they weren't going to help you utilise your skills, he would.

[bawfulio]

The worldbuilding of svtfoe is a very interesting hot mess to think about. It's like a defective puzzle: the pieces don't fit together quite right.

Especially in regards to magic/the issue of destroying it in the finale. You basically have to forget everything that was established about magic before Cleaved for it to actually feel like a sensible writing decision.

How do I know this? Because, for mad reasons, I decided to go through the series and catalog as many instances of magic being implied subtly or explicitly that it was a thing beyond Mewni. All examples are below the read more and sourced by their respective episodes

Dimensional scissors being owned by multiple beings from different dimensions, vast majority of them appear non-human/non-mewman (Shown since beginning of series)

Ponyhead uses magic to blast crystal stalactites on the ceiling of the Amethyst Arcade, making them crash into the guards from St. Olga's (S1E2: Party with a Pony)*

Star explaining how her wand needs to be regularly charged is worded in such a way that there are more like it in the multiverse (S1E8: Quest Buy You have to recharge wands with magical energy. If it goes to skull, it'll be dead forever!")

Quest Buy, an interdimensional retail store, sells wand chargers. If no other dimension has a wand like "Mewni", then there would be no reason for them to be sold (S1E8: Quest Buy)

The shard mines of Pixtopia are stated by the mine's taskmaster that they block magic. Considering that this dimension is the source of the magic mirror compacts/magic smart phones that are enable calls to anyone from any dimension, the wording implying magic period instead of a specific "butterfly magic" is interesting (S1E12: Pixtopia)

Tom's abilities in this episode (floating, fire control) seem to be a demonic variant of magic. While Daron Nefcy did say in the post-finale AMA that Tom could still create portals even after the destruction of magic (despite that same ability also being effected by Hekapoo shutting down the portal network), this fact was never stated in the show itself nor the spin-off books (S1E15: Blood Moon Ball)

Father Time, a plausibly magical being (this was never elaborated on in show nor in either spin-off books and the only answer came from Adam McArthur not Nefcy nor any of the show's writers) states that magic won't work on the wheel of time. Again, it is worded as magic period not "butterfly magic" or "royal magic" (S1E17: Freeze Day)

One of the "foolproof security measures" St. Olgas' is "no magic", with one of popups mentioning "magic sensors placed every 25 feet to ensure magic-free environment". If the school has such measures, then magic-using students must be a regular enough occurence to jutify it (S1E19: St. Olga's Reform School for Wayward Princesses)

Glossaryck's analogy on 'dipping down" is worded as follows: " Imagine the universe as this big old cauldron, and magic is the bubbly stew inside, and your wand is the spoon---Now the wand can only skim the surface of the hobo gravy, watery and brown. But if you want to get to the chunks, you've got to dip down. " Again, a singular magic, no differention for "butterfly magic" or "royal magic" (S2E1: My New Wand!)

Willoughby knows enough about magic to try and steal Star's wand to give herself a break (S2E6: Fetch)

Ponyhead uses magic to destroy Roy's shirt cannon. Roy also draws a magic circle on the ground that teleports Star, Marco, Ponyhead and Kelly to a temple where he then gives them the goblin dogs (S2E13: Goblin Dogs)

Etheria Butterfly, Moon's Aunt/Star's Great Aunt, pulls two Johansons underground via vines sprouted from magic seeds (S2E15: Games of Flags)

Rasticore is the sole person in the series to use a magical item that is not a pair of dimensional scissors to travel**. The Quest Buy gift card takes on a humanoid electric form to complete its expiration mode (S2E18: Gift of the Card)

Locked chains magically appear on the carriage door to keep Marco from leaving. Tom also uses his powers to resurrect Mackie Hand. (S2E19 Friendenemies)

Ponyhead uses magic to press the gas pedal on the car she's driving and later to repair the car (S2E24: Pizza Thing)

Magic (again, worded as magic period) is prohibited in the Bureaucracy of Magic building, complete with magic detector to find any "articles of magic, sorcery or occult objects of a mystical nature". The fritz is stated to be the result of "something somewhere sapping the power of magic from the universe". Once more, worded as a singular magic (S2E25: Page Turner)

The Naysaya is described as a demon curse. Whether curses are a separate thing from spells is never elaborated on in show or in the spinoff books (S2E26: Naysaya)

Preston Change-O, a being that sucked the joy out of Sensei's party guests. (S2E29: Trickstar)

Zedlord and Astrobell, who were crystallized by Rhombulus for destroying a planet and creating a black hole respectively. Considering that Rhombulus referred to his prisondres as "these guys" and the general design scheme of the non Earth/Mewni background characters, they are plausible inhabitants from other dimensions, not 'monsters" (S2E34: Crystal Clear)

The fritz is again stated to cause all magic (again no differention between types of magic) to weaken and fade (S3E1: Return to Mewni)

The Demoncism, with even features what Tom calls "magic manacles" (S3E12: Demoncism)

Marco suggests stopping Star's night portaling with magic glue. (S3E18: Sweet Dreams)

One of the supplies Janna brings to keep track of Star while she's night portaling is a "magic wave scope" (S3E23: Deep Dive)

Tom uses demonic magic to attempt to encase Mina in a coffin covered in sigils and golden magic chains (S3E24: Monster Bash)

Ponyhead once uses magic, in this case charging up a magic blast in preparation for facing Meteora, Gemini and Rasticore (S3E33: Skooled!)

The pillars/reverse waterfalls of magic found throughout the Realm of Magic are revealed to lead to other dimensions in the multiverse. Given the multiple pillars seen, it's likely that at least a good number of the connected dimensions use magic (S3E38: Conquer)

Marco's sword is revealed to be what kept a fire demon that once terrorized the Neverzonians sealed within a statue (S4E05: Ransomgram)

Wrathmelior has a emotional weather system that can cause severe storms if her emotions are in turmoil, possibly another form of demonic magic (S4E06: Lake House Fever)

The Quest Buy stock room is, as explained by the sloth employee, "a magical room that turns all your needless desires into pointless realities" (S4E11: Out of Business)

The Severing Stone is explicitly reffered to as an "enchanted rock" that posseses an edge so sharp that it can sever anything. The Blood Moon bal (S4E13: Curse of the Blood Moon)

In the beginning of the episode, we see Ludo attempt to steal Princess Quasar's magic bell, a possible counterpart to Star and her wand, complete with a counterpart to Glossryack (S4E14: Princess Quasar Caterpillar and the Magic Bell)

At Glossaryck and Meteora's first stop in the past, it is shown that a sea of magic was already present long before the Magic Sanctuary was built (S4E17: Meteora's Lesson)

Grobb/Neverzone Meteora explains that the old women of the mountain that found her and Bork/Neverzone Mariposa as babies taught her all of their spells. There is also Wyscan the Granter, a being that will grant requests in exchange for magic he can eat (S4E28: Gone Baby Gone)

According to Hekapoo, most of the patrons of the Tavern at the End of the Multiverse left their dimensions to "get away from magical issues or power-hungry rulers". Given the lack of elaboration on what exactly those magical issues were and how Star's rant focuses squarely on her family's misuse of it, this one might have been a last minute justification by the show to have Star destroying magic feel more natural. Whether or not it worked is up to debate (S4E36: The Tavern at the End of the Multiverse)

*I am aware of the whole "Ponyheads' powers are 'natural abilities' not magic" thing but A: the statement came from a tweet by a voice actor for the show (Adam McArthur), not Nefcy nor any of the show's writers so its canoncity is pretty weak and B: something as important as this should have been discussed in either hte show or one of the spin-off books. And, considering how Here to Help (which was 4 episodes before Cleaved) had Star somehow be able to gather a group of people from different parts of Mewni (Rick Pigeon, Ponyhead and Seahorse) and different dimensions (Kelly and Jorby, Talon and Quirky Guy) despite Hekapoo having shut down the mirror and portal network, it's possible that Ponyhead being magic was just forgotten

**It is mentioned in Star and Marco's Guide to Mastering Every Dimension that Rasticore is wanted for "unlawful alteration of regiestered, protected magic items (dimensional scissors)". This implies that his chainsaw was created from a pair of dimensional scissors but this is one of a multiple tidbits from the book that never comes up in the show itself

[xuntybitxh]

Where can you be?

Hwang in-ho x reader

Warning: 18+ smut, (reader is in her 20s and in-ho is in his late 40s), cursing, angst, sexual inturcourse, Also story ive ever written, sorry if i did a bad job pls tell me what i can improve on

Summary: missing your train to home, you meet this man, he played a game with you, causing you to earn some money. Back at home you neighbor hwang in-ho who seems to have a liking into you realizes something. Sexual things go on in to the friendship causing a spike in the end

The train began close its doors, causing you to run faster. "Fuck!! This always happens" you cursed as you hit the doors and then kicked a wall nearby.

You slumped on a bench to wait for the next train to come, anger still seething into your veins. You were furious since you had wanted and planned to be home quickly

you looked down and picked the skin on your nail that was hanging off a bit, it was bleeding a small bit, as you bit it off a man sat down besides you.

He was tall, and had a suit on, almost like a salesman. He had a briefcase in his hand and settled it on the floor in-between his legs, he turned his face to look at you, he was quit handsome. "Hello miss.

As you heard the man's voice you turned to look at him, taking your nail out your mouth and straightening up. "What?" You mumbled to the man, already exhausted and not wanting to deal with bullshit

The man introduced himself and asked to play dagki for some money. Of course you willingly agreed. After some time your face was red and kind of bruised but that was the beauty of getting money.

-------

As you walked home the air was heavy. It was pouring rain and complete silent other than a few cars driving by. You lived in a small apartment complex. As you entered you gave a small nod to your neighbor as a sign of acknowledgement. He was an older man, he been living there for a while long.

His name was hwang in-ho. He was always quite a busy man but always had some time to speak to you. You had a small neighbor crush on him but who wouldn't. He was fit, handsome, experienced, and kind.

His room was right next to yours. As he nodded back to you, he watched. You were obviously defeated by the walk and the rain as you walked into your door and shut the door.

--------

A day or so passed by. You stood infront of your door, and held out a brown buiness card that had a cirlce, triangle, and square. And you proceed to take your phone out to dial the number on the back.

You were in some dept by your fathers doing, as a child you weren't poor but your werent to wealthy. That was until loan sharks ruined your life. After that, all your fathers debt was left on your mother who ran away which landed all on their only child.

"Morning" you heard a voice behind you. It was in-ho

"Oh hi" you smiled warmly at him before he looked at what you were doing. His face went cold and his body went tense. He did own the games but receuiter gathered everyone who was in debt and then the guards did most of the work to find the people so in-ho didnt pay attention much to the player list this year other than the infamous 456.

-----

In-ho had talked to you for a while it was kind of not his things since he was usually quite quiet and tense but his conversations kept going, causing you to forget about the card and put it in back into your pocket. He was always a memerising man, his face could change the worlds fate if it was like that.

You giggled like a school girl as he gave you an onigirl. You were sitting with him at a bench in a new by park since asked you to go on a walk.

"Oh thank you, mister" you bowed your head to him. Your thighs twitched slightly as he said your name.

"Its not a problem, and you have known me long enough, its time you quit calling me mister" he lets out a rich chuckle "im not that old!"

You smiled warmly "oh its for respect" you nodded a few times in embarrassment.

Hwang in-ho, you guys live a door across eachother, talk regularly, hes experienced and older. Hes handsome and fit, how could you not fall for him, but then again he was sometimes cold and mean. Quiet to people and sometimes towards you

-------

As you guys walk back to your apartment it was silent. Not the akward kind but one that was leaning towards the comfortable silence.

"Uhm... do you live alone?" You mumbled. Fuck! You thought. Obviously he lived alone in that small home.

"Oh yeah. My wife passed away a few years back. She had liver issues, while being pregant with our child" he muttered.

"Oh... im sorry for you lose sir" you bowed your head in respect. "Sorry for asking such a stupid question" you shook her head as you talked.

The air turned thick and heavy until you reached the apartments and went separate ways.

----

You gasped and looked around. Jumping out of bed, hair wet with sweat. "Fuck" you cursed and rubbed your eyes. You had a nightmare, even for your grown age, you were still a crybaby over them.

You took a quick shower, drying your hair, brushing you teeth and all the essentials. You were a bit scared after the nightmare. You sat in your bed biting your nails.

It was pretty late, you picked up your phone and read the time '3:34' you put on your slippers, ate a breath mint, and had a piece of candy in your pocket before you left your room.

------

In-ho rubbed his eyes tiredly as he listened to you rant infront of him. You stood nust outaide his front door

"I had a nightmare and it was pretty scary, can i... stay here for some time, i understand if youre busy its ok" you spoke. Whenever it came to him, you were like a bubbling mess

He opened the door wider and allowed you in. It wasnt the first time you came over this late but it was just for some things you didn have like milk, or an egg, or bleach. He would have it all, he would sometimes ask you for things he already had, just to see you and hear your mesmerizing voice.

You sat on his bed, his hand rested on your shoulder as he used his free hand to rub his eye, in hope to rub the tiredness away.

"Im really sorry to bother you at such a late time" you mumbled

"Its fine, ive woken you up round this time before to" he smiles at you to try and lighten up your slightly frightened mood.

You smiled back and he sat beside you. You stared at him, his eyes, nose, lips. You swallow a lump in your throat before looking away. He stared at you, before cupping your cheeks, forcing you to stare back at him

"You dont have to be scared over anything, ill be there" he spoke

"Yeah" you stuttered slightly before he clashed his lips into yours. He bit your bottom lip causing you to moan slightly as blood trickled down.

He licked the blood off and kissed it. His kissed were rough and hungry as if he wanted to eat you. And you wanted him to do that. You live under his skin and laways be with him. To rip open his ribcage and make a home in there.

He began to take off the buttons towards you shirt, he practically ripped it off and tossed it to the side before kissing your neck, down to your collarbone. "In-ho" you moaned and had your hands in his hair

He unclipped you bra and sucked on your nipple and then the skin around it. He left you a hot mess. You began to take off his shirt. Showing his figure off. You ran your hands over his chest before playing with the hem of his pants that showed his obvious buldge.

He took your pants off and pulled you pantie to the side. He spread your legs open and slowly entered a finger. You masterbated quite alot but never dared to enter a finger because you were always scared. He then put in two fingers causing you to scream

"Shhh" he spoke and thrusted the fingers into you faster. You felt a knot in your stomach that quickly went away when his fingers left. Making you feel empty

"What? What happened? Whyd you stop!" You sighed, clearly irritated.

"You think ill let you off that fast? Cmon i thought you think higher of me" he chuckled before giving a mocking pout

-----

He was now in his boxers and you were completely naked. He stuffed your pantie under his pillow before linning his throbbing tip with you entrance, he slowly pushed himself in causing you to let out a scream of pain

"W-wait... its my f-first" you trembled before he thrusted harder into you.

After a few seconds the pain turned into pleasure. With each thrust causing you to moan, to rip his back open with your fingers. You were getting close to your climax and he began to message your clit at the same time

You let out a gasp and moan. You wrapped your legs around his waist before he quickly slapped you across the face, causing you to lower your legs

"Why.." you muttered but before you could finish the sentance he clashed his lips into yours. He pulled away and then pulled out of you

"Couldnt take any risk" he sighed as his seed covered your stomach.

He used his handkerchief to clean you up. He cuddled with you and gave you many kisses.

-------

After that day you didnt see him again.

The world felt lost and empty, did he not like the sex? Did he lose interest. You thought to yourself.

The landlady spoke to a man, he was tall, he had on some black pants, white shirt and a jacket.

"If he doesnt show up and pay his rent, youll have to pack all his things" the landlady told the man, you watched the interaction before walking outside and picking up your phone

You took out the brown buisness card with the shapes and dialed the number, the train station guy said it was an easy way to get money, and youll do anything to get away from this place. Your lips wobbled as you held back tears, the man you lost your virginity to just left right after. He said he will always be there. And now he isnt.

You put the card back into your pocket and waited at the designated place for this place with 'promised money'

[vicsnook]

Moving Everywhere But On | Jake Seresin x Reader

word count: 1659

warnings: SMUT, MINORS DNI, 18+

notes: Hey y’all! Happy New Year 🎆! Hope everyone is doing well and that your holidays were amazing!! I will try this year to regularly post Jake on Sundays as previously promised. Hope you enjoy this one and as always please don’t forget to like & reblog 🫶🏼

Moving was something you absolutely dreaded despite having done it your whole childhood due to your father’s navy career. However you thought you’d put those days behind you when you decided to date a doctor instead of a certain navy pilot. But oh how wrong you were as you watched your father and best friend load the boxes onto the truck from the house you’d once shared with your now ex-fiancé, Tom.

Setting down the key on the kitchen counter, you took one last look around what you once thought would be your future. Inevitably replaying the image of your neighbor and Tom fucking on the living room couch. Thankfully the horn of the moving truck snapped you out of the painful memory as you made your way out of the house and shut the door to that chapter, forever.

“You ready to do this, darlin’?” Jake asks quietly as you shut the truck door and settle into the seat, his hand reaching over to squeeze yours reassuringly as you weakly nod in response. A feeling of relief overtakes you as you catch sight of your dad in the moving truck following close behind you both.

—

The rest of the drive was uneventful, except for Jake’s attempts to cheer you up by singing off key. Your new apartment was small but to you it was exactly what you needed, a new beginning. Jake and your father set up your bed while you unpacked the living room which unsurprisingly didn’t take long since you’d sold a lot of your old things. All that was left to unpack was your kitchen, office, and the rest of your bedroom which you’d probably tackle tomorrow.

You waved your dad goodbye as he pulled out of the parking lot and joined Jake back up at the apartment. His back was to you and you watched quietly as he set up your nightstand, carefully putting your lamp and books in the same spot you had them before. You felt a tinge of regret for having turned him down all those years ago all because you didn’t want to deal with the Navy life and craved stability.

You’d loved Jake since the moment he sat next to you in Spanish class in high school and yet you gave it all up, just for everything to blow up in your face in the end. He must’ve sensed you looking since he turned towards you and shot you one of his signature half smiles making your heart flutter.

“You’re just gonna keep staring or are you going to help me out here?” He teases as you lend him a hand to help him up. The distance between your bodies becoming almost non-existent now. Backing up you stuttered out that you were going to shower, hurrying for the bathroom.

Leaning against the closed bathroom door you willed your heart to slow-down. 4 years was not enough to stop loving Jake Seresin and you were overcome with that currently. The hot water did little to soothe your thoughts about wanting to feel Jake’s lips on yours.

The cold air had you shivering for your towel as soon as you stepped out of the shower, only to realize you didn’t grab one. “Jake! Could you bring me a towel please?” You holler, but get no response. Peeking your head out the door you don’t see him either.

Figuring maybe he stepped out you have the lousy idea to make a run for the hall towel closet, only to stumble into Jake as soon as you open the door, his hand holding the towel you called for. Your eyes lock with his and you can feel your cheeks growing red with embarrassment as you take the towel from his outstretched hand and wrap yourself around it.

“Why didn’t you answer when I called for you?” You ask, trying to hide the nerves in your voice. Reminding yourself that it’s just Jake, which also seems to be the problem, that it is just Jake. “Sorry I wasn't thinking straight.” He shrugs, to which you nod and he puts one hand on the back of his neck which he only does when he’s nervous. The awkward silence growing thicker by the second but you can’t seem to snap out of it.

“Well, I should shower too, I left my phone in the living room so you can doordash us some food. You know the code.” He says, finally breaking the silence and turning around to go grab a towel before you can answer. The feeling of awkwardness was not something that you were familiar with around him but you try to shrug it off as you grab his phone to order food.

It’s not until Jake comes out of the bathroom with only a towel hanging around his waist that you realize you’re also still only wearing a towel. You can’t help but stare at his toned chest and muscular arms, longing to feel them under your hands and as he makes his way towards you, your breath catching in your throat.

“Be a doll and pass me my bag, sweetheart?” He asks coming to stand in front of you. His waist lining up to your face as you mentally curse yourself for choosing what feels like a very low couch. “Honey?” He takes your chin between his thumb and finger and turns your head up to look at him.

His gorgeous forest green eyes stare into yours and you can’t seem to form any coherent words. But at once you’re saved by the doorbell. Snapping back into reality you spring up from the couch, nearly falling over if it wasn’t for Jake catching you and steadying you in his arms. But you have no time to ponder about the action as the doorbell rings again.

You open the door and are grateful that the driver is now down the hall and had left your food on the doorstep. Jake’s still standing by the couch as you set the food down on the table, his eyes watching your every move. “Are you just gonna keep staring, Lieutenant?” You say playfully, hoping thebpet name still has the same effect it once did. His face turns up into that cocky smirk as he smoothly replies. “I thought you knew what happens when you play with fire, dolly.” Your flace flushes as you walk towards him, not stopping until you’re once again face to face with him.

Trying to seem confident you step impossibly closer to him, putting one hand on his chest before replying “Why don’t you teach me, Hangman?”

His hand grabs onto your waist and you know there’s no turning back. Maybe this is exactly what you need. “I don’t want to be just some rebound to you” He whispers, your lips nearly touching at the action. “You could never be a rebound Jacob, not when I never stopped loving you.” You reply, and you’ve never been more sure of anything as you close the space between you both.

His lips were softer than you remembered as he kissed you softly like you could break at any moment. You tugged on his hair causing him to grunt, granting your tongue access into his mouth. His hands squeezed your ass while you bit his bottom lip and you could feel yourself getting wetter as he pushed you against the wall.

You could see the hunger in his eyes as you pulled away and he went for that spot right under your ear that drove you crazy. The sound of his name leaving your lips was enough to make him lift you up and have you wrap your legs around him.

He carefully walks over to the couch and sits down with you still on top of him and you rock back and forth on his cock as he swirls his tongue around your nipple. The friction of his cock on your clit feels heavenly but you want more, you need more.

“Jake, more, please,” You beg into his ear, his eyes gleaming at your request. “Are you still on birth control, baby?” He asks, as you continue to rock against his cock. “Mhmm” You moan in response and that’s all it takes for him to lift you up and line himself with your entrance.

He slowly leads you down, letting you get adjusted to his length. The feeling of him stretching you open is almost enough to send you over the edge. “You’re taking my cock so good, doll.” He praises, his accent making you swoon as you reach the hilt of his cock.

You dig your nails into his biceps as he begins to thrust up into you making you lean forward into him. “Fa-a-s-te-r” You manage to utter as his thumb presses on to your clit and his pace starts to increase.

Pleasure is washing over you, and you can feel your legs start to shake as he thrusts faster and harder into you. Moans and groans fill your apartment as you both reach for that high. “God baby you’re so tight, are you gonna cum for me?”

His words are enough to push you over the edge. Hunching forward onto his neck as he continues to thrust into you seeking his own release. “Fuck baby, you feel so good,” he grunts, you lift your head slightly and kiss his neck in response. No one could ever send you over the edge this quickly.

His legs trembled as he sloppily thrusted and reached his own high. Pulling back you caught his lips on yours, tenderly kissing him until you both pulled away for air. “It’s always been you Seresin, I’m sorry I was too stupid to accept that.” You whisper against his neck, he hugs you tighter to him before responding, “Nothing to be sorry for darlin’. We’ve got a lot of time left to make up for it. But how about we start by cleaning ourselves up and eating?”

“Absolutely. And how about round two after?” You answer cheekily, earning yourself a smack to the ass from the man you’re glad to never have moved on from.

taglist: @harperdoodle , @weirdothatwritess , @rosiahills22

[3-2-whump]

Sequel is here

next>

Hi everyone,

Thank you thank you thank you for sticking around for the follow-up story to Eternal. I want to acknowledge my beta readers @whumped-by-glitter and @generic-whumperz , who have probably read like five versions of this same damn chapter. Thank you for sticking it out with me you two, I couldn’t have done it without you ❤️

Some quick asides, I don’t know/can’t guarantee this is gonna have the same consistent updating schedule as the previous story. Irl nonsense like job woes and trying to apply to grad school have been demanding more of my energy than I’d like to give, but I will try to update regularly. Thanks for the understanding in advance 🙏🏽

Well, without further ado…

Mountain Bike

TW/CW: allusions to past whump. You could probably start the sequel without reading the first story, though, but if you want to know exactly what our main character is running from, I highly recommend The Morgue

Dr. Vikash Gill was having a great day today. He’d gotten up early, went to the gym a few blocks away from his house, and came back home to make a quick toast and coffee. He went well into his first few hours as a resident doctor in the emergency department without any serious injuries to treat. In the background, on every television and phone screen, news about the murder of a well-known mob boss spread like wildfire, with suspicious undertones of gang activity throughout the tight-lipped reporting from the news outlets. Now, he was on the way back to the hospital from his quick lunch break at the café around the corner, ready for another five or six hours of work.

Like most people in the medical profession, he loved and hated his job, and like most people in the medical profession, he had plenty of stories to tell. From bullet wounds to stabbings and a whole host of suspicious injuries in between, Vik had treated it all at this point, and he had received every fantastical story and explanation with an apathetic indifference.

Like his mentor Dr. Kimura had said, “We’re doctors, not detectives, the best thing we can do is to shut up, treat their wounds, and get them out the door ASAP,” or something like that. Whatever she told him almost a year ago seemed to stick though, as he stitched up every gang member and staunched the blood flow of every mafia soldier without so much as a blink of an eye.

There were more than a few times where Vik wished he had studied medicine in a small-town rural community instead, somewhere where the biggest injury was something normal like a tractor accident. During those times, he’d make himself remember the ‘mountain bike accident’ that he treated just over a year ago.

The man was a few years younger than him, according to his charts, but his small, skinny frame and big, sad eyes made him look even younger. He had a unique set of tattoos, singular black bands on his neck, wrists, and ankles. He came in completely naked with a broken nose, hand-shaped bruising all over his body, a torn rectum, and a back carved up like a Thanksgiving turkey. The older man who came in with him –Thomas J. Costa, the dead boss who most probably fucked with the wrong gang and found out– claimed all those wounds were merely a ‘mountain bike accident.’ Vik knew that was bullshit, yet there was nothing he could do at the time, being only a med student. Now, with a little more freedom and experience with being a licensed doctor, he hoped that he would be able to help that poor guy, and other people like him, should the opportunity ever come up again.

A chime went off on his phone just as he rounded the corner on his way back to work. Vik fished around his pockets for his phone, not looking where he was going until an unexpected force collided into him at speed. It knocked him back on his feet a little and pushed his glasses askew up his face. Vik completely forget about his phone for a second as he began to curse out the stranger who’d just run into him. “Hey! Watch it you-…wait…” Vik adjusted his glasses. The curses died on his tongue as he came face to face with a familiar young man with a dark floof of hair, the saddest dark brown eyes, and a visibly distinct tattooed band on his neck. He may have been fully clothed now, in a thick black hoodie and skinny jeans with a suspiciously growing red stain on the right thigh, but Vikash Gill would recognize that tattoo and those sad brown eyes anywhere. He remembered the ‘mountain bike accident’ that forced them to cross paths; he may never forget that night as long as he lived. “Mountain Bike?!” he asked incredulously.

“A doctor, oh thank god!” the stranger exclaimed. Whether it was Vik’s scrub pants, sweater emblazoned with the hospital logo, or his ID tag that tipped him off, the stranger visibly melted with relief before surging toward him with desperation. “Help me!” The young man’s chest was heaving as he panted around every word. His face shone with sweat and exertion.

Vikash took a step back. “With what?” he asked.

“I need to hide!”

He glanced around the corner where Mountain Bike had come from, but nobody was coming. “From whom? Why?” The stranger wobbled on his injured leg, and Vik instinctively reached out to catch him. “Did you do something? What did you do? What happened to your leg?” he demanded. It was clear that he had been running from something–or someone–and the desperation in the stranger’s eyes as he looked up at him put pressure on Vik.

“I didn’t do anything–well, okay, I might’ve headbutted my new owner and ran away–”

“Whoa, whoa, back up–what do you mean?”

Mountain Bike gripped onto the front of Vik’s jacket, locking eyes with him. “I know this sounds crazy, but I’m telling the truth!” he insisted. He stepped back to give the doctor more space. “Look, you remember me, right?” His eyes searched his hopefully as he put on a strained smile of friendliness. “You sewed up my back last year, do you remember?”

“Sure I do,” he answered, “but I don’t see how–”

“I’ve been held against my will the last several years and I finally have a chance to escape. I’m not making this up, I promise! Please, take out my tracker and I’ll be able to prove everything, just help me!” Mountain Bike begged.

“But, what about your leg?” Vik asked, watching the stranger wobble when he tried to put weight on it.

“Screw the leg! I’ll be fine, I need the thing that tells them where I am out of my body now!”

 “Still though,” Vik rationalized, shaking his head, “how can I trust you?” The guy seemed pathetic enough, but Vik didn’t know him, and wasn’t about to allow himself to be robbed blind or stabbed to death just because he felt sorry for someone.

Mountain Bike quickly detached from Vikash’s side, extending his arms outwards as he stood in a T-pose. “Search me. I’ve got no weapons, and I’m too weak to hurt you in any way that counts,” he said. He flapped his arms a little. “Well, go on, search me!” he urged.

What the fuck did I get myself into? Vik sighed, wondering how he was going to explain to work how late he was from lunch break. Still, the stranger’s jumpy movements and quiet desperation seemed like they were coming from a real place of fear. Vik reluctantly gave the stranger a rudimentary pat-down, like the ones he’d get at the airport. He didn’t miss the way Mountain Bike flinched under his touches, even though searching him was his idea. He stood at least a head taller than the man, so he was able to catch a glimpse of black ink behind his ears. A barcode, and ‘TJC’? He frowned, thinking there might be some credibility to Mountain Bike’s story after all. The enigmatic little puzzle pieces that surrounded Mountain Bike for a year had finally started to assemble into a picture of what had really occurred that night in the emergency department. Once he confirmed that Mountain Bike was unarmed, he stepped back, and the stranger dropped his arms from the T-position. “Okay, you’re unarmed,” he confirmed. “But, how do I know you’re telling the truth? No offense, but I hear a lot of tall tales in my line of work. How do I know you’re in danger and this isn’t some kind of mental breakdown?”

Mountain Bike let out a pained sound somewhere between a groan and a whine. “Come on, man! Do I gotta show you everything?”

Vik fell back on concussion check protocol. “What’s your name and date of birth? What date is it today?” he asked

Mountain Bike sighed. “Khaled Bakhsk, November 22, 1999. Today’s February 22, 2022,” he recited with a roll of his eyes. “I can’t give you the exact time it is, but it’s after noon. Now come on, take me to the hospital and take out my tracker?” Mountain Bike begged.

“Why do you even have a tracker?” Vik asked.

“Because. I’m. A. Slave,” Mountain Bike spelled out. He huffed a frustrated sigh. “You know what, I don’t know what it’ll take for you to believe me, but if you at least find it and take it out, I swear I will never bother you again!” His voice was edged with desperation as he cast Vik the saddest, darkest puppy-dog eyes underneath his long lashes. “Please?”

And honestly, if this stranger was telling him the truth, would Vikash Gill be able to live with himself if he knew he just let this guy be enslaved again? “Fine,” Vik relented, “but I’ll need to find the tracker first, and even when I find it, I can’t guarantee I’ll be able to extract it immediately. Besides–” he cast a furtive glance down at Mountain Bike’s bloody thigh, “–you should at least let me treat your leg first.” He followed the seeping blood trail with his eyes, brows furrowed in concern.

Mountain Bike–er, Khaled’s face lit into a grin as he dropped to his knees and hugged Vikash’s legs. “Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank–”

“Okay, stop that. Get up,” Vik replied, uncomfortable with both the sudden infringement on his personal space and the over exaggerated gratitude Mountain Bike displayed. “Let’s patch up that leg!” He directed the stranger to follow him to the hospital, where he could be evaluated and get whatever kind of help he needed.

“Remember these words: pencil, dragon, phone, spoon,” he told him. Vik still couldn’t rule out the possibility of a head injury, and one of the tests for a potential concussion involved memorizing a string of words and repeating them back. Mountain–Khaled didn’t respond.Well, it was a great day for Dr. Vikash Gill, but now it was just kind of a weird one.

Le Tag List for The Recovery Arc (also if you want on or off, nbd, just let me know 👍🏼) (also if I missed anybody I am so sorry, I haven’t had to make one of these in a long time 🥺)

@kabie-whump @rainydaywhump @whumped-by-glitter @skittles-the-whumpee @generic-whumperz

@bamber344 @there-will-always-be-blood @morning-star-whump @a-la-whump @watermelons-dont-grow-on-trees

@defire @phoenixpromptsandstuff @scumashling

[vodika-vibes]

I'd be so grateful if you wrote Dogma and F!Reader having a movie marathon. I'd like to see that boy flustered ~

Surprising Realizations

Summary: Dogma gets invited to his crush’s home for a movie marathon.

Pairing: Clone Trooper Dogma x F!Reader

Word Count: 1080

Warnings: Idiots in love

A/N: Yeah, I knew this was going to go over the word count, simply because it's Dogma. Anyway, I hope you like it! You didn't ask for idiots in love, but that's what you're getting.

Click HERE to be added to my taglist

Dogma nervously tugs on the hem of his new tee shirt. The whole outfit is new. It’s a simple outfit, a plain tee shirt, and comfortable jeans, and it’s his only civilian attire.

Now he’s regretting that he didn’t break them in before today, but it’s too late to worry about that now.

Quickly, before convincing himself that this is a terrible idea, he knocks on the apartment door and waits patiently. Well, semi-patiently.

There are a handful of civilians who work with the 501st regularly, and of that handful of people, only one or two are allowed on the Resolute when they deploy. This apartment belongs to one of those people.

She’s an IT whiz and, according to her, she’s solely responsible for making sure that none of the computers on the Resolute break while they’re traveling.

She likes to say that anyone with training could do her job, but Dogma’s not so sure he agrees. Oh, sure, any of his brothers probably could do her job. They’re not stupid men after all. 

But, in his opinion, she also offers some much-needed morale for himself and his brothers. More himself than his brothers.

She’s…kind. Kind and good and pretty. And when she smiles, it’s like watching the sunrise, and when she laughs it’s like hearing bells ringing.

Dogma is smitten. He knows it.

Which is why being here is such a bad idea. Because he knows that he’s going to say something stupid and offend her, or, even worse, he might confess his feelings and then she’ll know and it’ll be the worst day of his life—

But she personally invited him to movie night, so here he is. 

Dogma shifts slightly when he hears the door open, and when he sees her, he almost forgets to breathe.

She’s stunning. Even with her hair pulled in a messy knot, even though she’s wearing a ratty shirt and sweatpants, even though she’s not wearing any make-up. She’s still stunning.

A blinding smile crosses her face, “Dogma! You’re here!” She moves to the side to allow him into her home, “I’m making some pizza for us to share, and some mozzarella sticks.” She shuts and locks the door once he’s in her apartment, “It’ll still be a bit before dinner, maybe about half an hour? So make yourself comfortable.”

Dogma slides his boots off and sets them next to the door, and then looks around. Her apartment is tiny, though he remembers her telling Commander Tano that she lives in a studio. He always thought studios were big, based on the name.

He’s surprised that it’s just the two of them, though. Dogma knows that he saw her talking to Jesse and Kix…maybe they’re late? Or he’s just early.

“You can go ahead and start picking out movies if you like,” She adds as she heads toward her small kitchen, “I have a bunch, the ones that aren’t so good are labeled—”

“Sure,” Dogma heads towards the couch, noting with some amusement that the couch and entertainment center takes up the majority of the apartment. Her bedroom area is sectioned off with some elegant-looking folding screens. “Am I early?”

“Sorry?” She asks, looking up from where she’s messing with something.

“It’s just…no one else is here yet—”

Dogma stares, amazed, as she ducks her head and sheepishly rubs the back of her neck, “Ah, well,” She starts, her voice suddenly very nervous, “It’s just us, you see.”

“Did Jesse and Kix cancel on you?”

“No, no! Nothing like that. I just…only invited you?” She offers sheepishly.

“...what?”

“Well, you see, my home is very small,” She says quickly, “And I can’t really fit a lot of people here anyway, so I had to pick and choose who I wanted to invite and I, well, I picked you.”

Dogma blinks at her, stunned and more than a little flustered, “But, like, I was your third or fourth choice, I’m sure—”

“Ah, no. You were my only choice. I didn’t ask anyone else—” She looks about as embarrassed and flustered as he feels, “Is that weird? Should I have invited someone else?”

“No!” Dogma flushes and presses a hand over his eyes, “Uhm…no. No this is fine. I prefer it like this, actually. You know what my brothers are like—” He gets to be alone with the woman he’s been crushing on and she’s going to feed him, this is a dream come true.

She smiles at him then, though she still looks very flustered, “You do?”

“Well, sure. We don’t get to talk much when we’re working, right?”

Delight slides across her face and Dogma feels his heart skip a beat. She’s so unfairly pretty. “Well, we’re busy people.” Her smile widens, “Have you picked a movie you want to start with?”

“Uh, not really. I don’t know any of these,” Dogma admits, though he does start a random movie, “I guess we can start with I Married Lady Frankenstein.”

“Ooh, that’s a comedy horror movie, it’s kind of campy but I like it.” She looks over the food that she’s making, “Will you grab a bag of cheese from the fridge for me?”

“Yeah, sure.” He pulls open the fridge, grabs the bag of cheese, and tosses it on the counter next to her. 

“Thanks~”

“I’m happy to hel—” Dogma stops midsentence because she leans up and presses her lips against his cheek. His face burns with flustered embarrassment, but the only thing he can think is soft.

His gaze snaps to her face, and she’s staring up at him through wide, worried eyes…Dogma gets so flustered at the look on her face, that he lifts his hands to cover her eyes. “Please stop looking at me with those eyes. I can’t think!”

She tugs his hand down slightly, the look of worry fading away to gentle amusement, “Was that too much?”

“You���re going to be the death of me by the end of the night.” Dogma announces as he covers her eyes again, “You just don’t play fair at all, do you?”

“Sorry,” She doesn’t sound very sorry though.

Dogma moves his fingers so she’s able to peek up at him, and a teasing smile crosses his face, “If you’re going to kiss me, you can at least do it properly.”

She releases a flustered squeak and moves his hand to hide behind it.

His grin widens at her reaction and he knows that tonight is going to be great.

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