#still not over the fact that they look so baby

[evie-sturns]

begging - Chris Sturniolo

summary: when chris gets home after filming, he is the most desperate youve ever seen him, he is literally a horny, clingy, wreck. after a lot of begging you finally give him exactly what he needs.

contains: sub!chris, smut, needy!chris, teasing, overstimulation, fluff.

-----------------------------♡----------------------------

6:14pm

i lay down on the couch in my pink pyjama set, curled up as i scroll through my phone. suddenly my head perks up as i hear the door unlock.

chris walks through the door, throwing his bag down and slipping off his shoes.

"hi chris!" i call out from the living room,

chris lets out a small whine in response, instantly dragging his feet over to the couch. i smile up at him as i open my arms, chris instantly flops down.

he lands ontop of me with a small grunt, instantly cuddling into me. he rests his head on my neck.

"you tired?" i whisper softly,

chris shakes his head, "no..." my eyebrows furrow as i run my nails up and down his back.

"do you feel sick?" i ask, his head shakes again.

"whats up with you then?' i mumble,

chris shakes his head, refusing to anwser.

i stay silent for a few moments, waiting for him to respond.

"can you touch me..?" chris whispers, pulling his head away from the crook of my neck to look into my eyes.

"so thats what this is about yeah?" i giggle,

his cheeks flush but he doesn't stop, "please- 'm so horny." his tone is somewhat desperate, a small whine in his voice.

"im tired chris, not today." i whisper, still rubbing his back.

"but- please, i've- i've been needy all day for you 'n i wasnt home at all today- please." he rambles, staring into my eyes with half lidded eyes.

"chris baby, i told you that im tired, maybe tomorrow yeah?" i mutter,

chris lets out a high pitched whine, clutching onto my shirt with balled up fists.

"i can't wait- please i just need you so bad ma, please, seriously." he babbles on, his grip on my pyjama shirt getting tighter.

i let out a small laugh, but he instantly cuts me off.

"stop! 's not funny!" he groans, burying his head in my chest.

i keep up my smirk,

"baby, just go upstairs and sort yourself out okay?" i speak softly, gently rolling him off of me.

"i cant- i wont be able to cum without you." he says, slightly panting now.

i stay silent, just staring at him.

i can't even deny the fact im getting more and more turned on by the second, looking at his completley flushed face, and the red tint spread across his cheeks from how embarrassed he is, looking just so pathetic begging for me like this.

i continue to just look at him, split between wanting to go to bed now and just giving him what he really, really wants.

chris burys his head back into my stomach.

"look at me." i whisper, he shakes his head.

i pull his head away from me, and grab his chin, tilting it up so he has to look at me.

he has teary, glassed over eyes.

a smirk tugs at my lips, almost in shock.

"are you about to cry?" i grin,

"no! im just! im so frustrated!" he grumbles.

"hey, fine, cmon." i whisper, standing up off the couch and grabbing his hand.

he stands up on shaky legs as i drag him to the bedroom, his eyes lighten immediately as he sees what is going on.

he suddenly has more of a spring in his step, and the tears in his eyes have gone.

i pull him into the bedroom, pushing him down onto the bed.

he looks up at me, staying silent and still.

“don’t get all shy on me now chris.” i speak, referencing his frozen figure and wide eyes.

“sorry.” he whispers, clutching the bedsheets.

“go on, take everything off f’me.” i tell him, folding my arms over his chest.

he nods frantically, instantly reaching down and fumbling with his belt buckle, throwing it across the room to the floor.

he unbuttons his jeans with shaky hands, sliding them down his legs before reaching for his shirt, which he throws off aswell.

he sits on the bed in his boxers, a sheepish expression on his face.

i can tell his cock is tucked into his waistband of his boxers, proving he’d been hard for a while.

“how long have you been hard.” i scoff, staring down at him,

he wipes a few strands of hair out of his eyes before speaking, “too long.” he mutters.

“let me take care of you, yeah? boxers off.” i tell him,

he tugs down his boxers and his erection springs out, his tip tapping his stomach, smearing his precum against the pale skin.

his tip is raw and red, it almost looks borderline painful.

i crawl onto the bed between his legs, resting my head on his thigh.

his dick sits straight up right by my face,

chris stares down at me, his eyelids heavy and lips a dark pink.

his loose hairs stick to his forehead as he lets out shallow breaths.

“please.” he mutters under his breath, his hips bucking up and his dick brushing my cheek.

i shake my head, placing a firm hand on his lower belly to hold him down to the bed.

“no, no squirming.” i mumble,

“i need it so bad- please- i’m so sore.” his voice cracks,

i grin slightly at his plea,

“please!” he raises his voice, his tone high pitched,

“please what..?” i decide to tease him a little bit more.

“please- please touch me, please- i’ll do anything baby.” he pants,

“finee.” i whisper, dragging my nails up and down his thighs,

i finally wrap my fingers around his stiff cock, i can feel his throbbing in my hand.

“i want your mouth- i need your lips.” he breathes,

“good boy, telling me what you want.” i grin,

i pump him a few times, my fist clenched tight around his length.

i drag my thumb up the long vein which travels up his dick, eliciting a loud moan from him.

my lips part as i stick my tongue out, gently licking up the underside of his cock, from his base to his pink raw tip.

he lets out a cross between a sigh and a whimper, the pleasure getting to him.

i finally wrap my lips around his tip, his eyes roll back into his head as he arches his back off the bed.

“oohh my godd..” he breathes, a smile on his face as his jaw falls slack.

i swirl my tongue around his tip, gathering the salty precum in my mouth.

his hands travel up to my hair, his long fingers intertwining into the strands.

i gently take more of him down my throat, gagging as he hits the back of my throat

“fucking- so- good” he gasps out,

i pick up my pace, bobbing my head up and down on his cock,

chris squirms on the bed, his hands tightening in my hair as he lets out strings of curses.

“i’m gonna cum- i’m gonna cum- please i’m so close-“ he babbles,

after a few seconds i pull off of him, edging him completely.

he looks down at me with wide eyes, almost looking like he could burst into tears right there.

“that’s not fair- that’s not fair!” he pants,

he reaches down and grabbing his cock in his own hands.

i instantly pull his hands away, shaking my head.

“but- ‘s not fair!” he says with a loud whine.

i sit up, rubbing his cheek, “i know it’s not fair, but i wanna ride you yeah?”

his eyes light up somewhat, but he still looks pissed.

i peel off my tank top, following with my tiny pyjama shorts.

i sit naked infront of him, he throws his head back.

“it hurts- i’m so hard it hurts.” he whispers,

my nipples harden at his words, the dampness between my thighs getting more prominent.

i shift up and i straddle his waist,

his hands reach up and grab my waist, his fingers digging into the skin.

i sit fully bare on his waist, my arousal dripping onto his skin.

he lets out a trembling breath, staring up at me piercingly.

i sit up on my knees before shifting back,

i reach down and grab his length, positioning his tip right at my entrance.

his head throws back, his fingers digging painfully hard onto my skin,

after a few seconds, i finally sink down onto his tip,

chris lets out a pathetic whimper as his hands fly down to the matress, his hands balling up the sheets.

i sink further, and further down before bottoming out.

my stomach fills with a familiar warmth, i let out a shaky moan as my stomach feels heavy and warm.

“thank you- thank you- thank you so much oh my god-“ he whines, his legs shaking subtly.

i start to bounce on his length, the stretch burning, in such a good way.

chris seems to be enjoying it as much as i am, his eyes trained on my tits as he fights to keep his eyes from rolling back into his head.

“i lo- love you so much- god you feel incredible.” he rambles out, his voice croaky and cracking.

he hands fly up to my breasts, squeezing them as he moans loudly.

“i’m so close already- i need to cum-“ he whispers, his hands sinking into my tits.

i bite back a smile at how hard he’s gripping me, it’s almost painful but i decide to not comment on it, instead just grabbing his hands and moving them to my waist.

i clench around him, the warmth spreading through my abdomen as i feel myself get closer.

“please let me cum- i need to- please—“ he breathes,

he arches his back off the bed, his head tipping back

his brown locks fall over his face, also spreading against the matress.

he sinks his teeth stupidly hard into his bottom lip, so hard to the point i can see blood drawing.

i feel my chest tighten as pleasure overwhelms me, my cheeks burning and my legs aching from the effort.

a loud moan rips out of me as i clench around him again, tighter this time.

i feel my orgasm crash down on me, riding it out to the best of my ability before flopping down on his chest.

i feel chris follow right after me, spurts of white filling my insides.

the room goes partially silent, only filled with our panting from both of us.

i slowly pull off of him, my whole body feels like it’s on fire.

chris’s cum leaks out of me onto the bedsheets, but i can’t be asked to care about that right now.

“i love you.” he breaks the silence, wrapping his arms around my back and rolling us over so he’s ontop of me.

i mumble a vague, ‘love you too’ as i hold him ontop of me.

after several minutes of laying like this he finally breaks the silence.

“i don’t think you understand how good that felt..” he whispers,

i grin tiredly, with a small hum.

“why did you have to make me wait so long- i think that’s the worst pain i’ve been in all year.” he whispers,

“i liked watching you beg!” i giggle,

“shut up- shush.” he laughs, his face going red.

“you were all, ‘pleasee i’m so soree let me cummm’.” i tease him,

he clasps a hand over my mouth, “i hate you.” he grins.

-

@sturnsdoll @obvisturns @stupid4sturniolo @meerkatzthings @witchofthehour @rosalierenee43 @gabrielle-brun1 @ilovemymannnnnnnn @sturnioloxlver @buckys-goodgirl @sturniol0s @ilovemymannnnnnn n @chr1sgirl4life @luanetaluenta @sturnsssbow w @mattfangirl girl @luvr4miya @luvtay111 @lolasturniolo @freshloveforthefit @ruedowney @lovingchrissposts @333michelle e @h3arts4harry @jamiesturniolo o @chrisstopherfilmed @ @daddyslilchickenfingers2 @ev3rgreenxtrees @certifiednatelover er @solarsturniolo larsturniolo lo @mattsenthusiast t @yomamaslays4lyfe @peachmels @alinaa131 @pepsiluvr0209 @creamoncreamoncream2 @szobofc @mattscoquette e @blahbell668 @sturniolo04 @bitchydragonparadise @sturni0l0tripletzz @ratatioulle @sturnsfav @mattsonlybitch @justalittle47 @sunsetsturniolos @sturniolo04 @similartokayyz @sturnsintrouble @ilovemattsturn @raysmayhem-72 @75sturn @sturniol0s @secret-sturniolo @hfkeclnendmwodne @sturniolosass @gxldenlush @stonermattsgf @101saroona a @beccaluvschris @oliviasturniolo21 1 @imwetforyourmom @tylerstacobell @sunsetsturniolos @aliceloveschris @jayz4dayz 4 @sassysturniolo2008 @nyktoxs-lover r @nathandoesgf @starsturns234 @chrissturnsss s @joemamaaa42069 @sturnthepot @zayyluvz @realuvrrr @livialifesblog @sturnioloblogs @riowritesitall john @raysmayhem-72

[minswriting]

nsfw | mdni | aaron hotchner x reader | unprotected sex, breeding kink

it’s time to think about fucking aaron hotchner raw.

there’s just something about the way aaron looked at you that just got you going. perhaps it was the longing gazes he’d give to you throughout the day or the fact that he was not dressed in his normal suit. he was dressed in a polo t-shirt that fit him so nicely that it made you clench your thighs the moment you saw him.

so when you had gotten to the hotel that night, it was no surprise to you when you found out that the two of you would be sharing a room. it makes the most sense with how you’re dating. when you guys got to your room, you didn’t give aaron any time to look around when you pulled him to the bed.

“sweetheart?” he asked, quirking an eyebrow at you when you pushed him onto the mattress. “what-“ his question was interrupted when you desperately unzipped his pants. and then he knew exactly what you wanted. he licked his lips, watching you pull his pants down enough to reveal his half-hard cock.

“i need you so badly,” you breathed out, undressing yourself completely. your movements were quick and desperate as your fingers fumbled with the button of your jeans. “don’t want to wait.”

and when you had finally undressed yourself completely, you sighed in relief as you moved to straddled aaron’s hips. “not even going to use protection?” he breathed out, his hands immediately going to your hips.

you shook your head. “need to feel you completely,” you said. just by watching you undress, aaron’s cock got fully hard which was perfect because you really just need him. your hand went underneath you, guiding aaron’s cock to your entrance. foreplay is overrated when all you want is dick.

you slowly eased yourself onto aaron’s cock, making the both of you hiss in pleasure. it wasn’t the first time you guys have done it without protection. there were times when aaron would come home from a really long case and fuck you like you were nothing but a cumslut for him. which you never really minded. if you end up pregnant with his child, well that’s just a solid win right there.

“yes,” you moaned, bouncing your hips, throwing your head back in pleasure as you rested your hands on his torso. you were finally getting the relief that you so desperately craved, having needed aaron’s cock buried inside of you.

aaron let out a groan, gripping your hips. “you’re so wet,” he said, looking up at you with a look of lust and adoration. “have you been thinking about this all day?”

you nodded your head, letting out a “mhm!” as rode aaron’s cock. your rhythm was slow and needy as your walls clenched around his cock.

“fuck,” he moaned, moving so that his feet were resting on the bed. he began fucking into you at a fast pace, causing you to gasp and stop your movements.

“o-oh my god,” you moaned, closing your eyes in pleasure as you allowed aaron to take over. his thrusts up into you were hard and fast, just what you needed. you felt the tension building up inside of you, knowing you weren’t going to last long at all. you cried out in pleasure. “i’m gonna cum,” you whined.

“go ahead, baby, show me just how much you needed my cock,” aaron grunted, breathing heavily as he thrusted his hips up into you.

it didn’t take long for you to cum, moaning aaron’s name as you clenched around his cock. aaron followed suit, groaning your name as he came inside of you, filling you up with his cum without a single care in the world. he held you against him, keeping you still as he came inside of you.

it was no wonder when you got a positive pregnancy test a month later.

[3verythingiknowaboutlove]

say yes to heaven

how spencer and you deal (or don't deal) with the fact that he doesn’t want a baby anymore after coming home from prison, and you really do.

MDNI | angst

word count: 2226 warnings & tags & stuff: bau!reader, avoidant!reader, avoidant spencer, no happy ending (wtf), reader wants a baby, one line about reader not having a certain religious belief, they like almost have sex, spencer undresses reader, lots of talk about a condom, they dont really fight at all?, very underdeveloped/bad description of quantum immortality author's note: heyyyyy guyss whats up..... this is a different vibe to my regular stuff and i fear it may be really ooc?? i don't know how to feel but i literally have to post or i'll go even more crazy sooo here we are!! have a delightful day, let me know your thoughts if you have any, ily!!!

Antique shops, you and Spencer have decided, are the hidden gems of this nation yet to be appreciated enough by the general public. 

Each town or city you visit is bound to have one, and going to them has become a little celebratory tradition. In the early mornings after cases are solved, right before the plane ride home, you take a look around. You’re typically the first and only ones in the store, wandering with intertwined hands and sipping on ‘2 extra foamy cappuccinos with an additional shot of espresso, please’ and occasionally, but not necessarily, choosing something to take back to D.C.

You’ve been trying your absolute hardest to fill your home to the brim– sometimes with objects, and other times with words, or touch, or the ever so valuable and fleeting concept of shared time– in effort to replace what had been lost in that three month long period when it was completely devoid of tangible, fresh love.

It’s today you’re wandering through a quaint, very cluttered shop in western Oregon, the Pacific visible from the store’s windows. 

Wheels up in an hour. Don’t be late. Hotch’s text buzzes in your pocket, but you barely glance at it– there’s something about the Oregon coast that reaches into your heart and gives it a gentle massage, enveloping you in a refreshing lack of urgency.

Spencer, in his own peaceful world, is staring at a tall wall of books. He reaches out to pick up a dusty rendition of Moby Dick, carefully cracking it open to the first few pages to check the publication date, brow scrunching as he reads. You go to peer over his arm to check as well, when something catches the corner of your eye. You let go of his hand to inspect.

A bassinet. Dark wood, surface polished to a faint sheen, with intricate little waves engraved on the sides, like the ocean’s misty outreach had come all the way into the shop and placed this here for you to see. 

You weren’t exactly sure when this now familiar ache had started; this deep, internal desire felt in your stomach for a little hand to be gripped around your pointer and for tiny onesies to fill your laundry basket, but you’re sure, with every fiber of your being, that you want it to be there.

“Spence,” you say softly, voice jarring in the otherwise stillness of the shop. “Come look.” He carefully closes the book and puts it back where it was and pads over, looking down at the bassinet. His eyebrows raise slightly.

“Wow. It looks like it was made in the 80s, maybe even earlier. You won’t find any level of detailing more recently than that, it’s too labor intensive for modern production methods. Good find.”

“I know. Should we get it?” you ask, biting a smile. He quickly meets your eyes, brow raising slightly.

“Do you want to?” he asks, voice even.

“I mean, I just think it’s really cute, with the waves and stuff.” you say bashfully, nudging it with your toe so it rocks back and forth. Spencer swallows, adam's apple bobbing.

“Yeah, I just…” Spencer hesitates. “I don't think we’d be able to bring it on the jet. It would probably snap in half if we held it in the wrong way,” he says, making your brain race even though he hasn’t said a single thing that should cause it to do so.

“Oh.”

You blink.

“No, yeah, you’re totally right. It’s too inconvenient. You should get that copy of Moby Dick instead. That edition looked cool, with the forward explaining all the names,” you say gently, pushing a smile, nudging him back towards the shelf. He goes, shooting you one last glance as you move to observe a few clocks hanging on the wall.

Spencer doesn’t reach for your hand again when he comes back.

…

The house is quiet when you arrive back home, hours later. Spencer sets his bag down by the door, and yours goes next to his to be dealt with later.

Exhaustion from the case is heavy in your limbs; the long flight and the sleepless nights are seeping into your bones, but Spencer seems perfectly intent upon kissing it better. You rest your forehead on his chest, exhaling softly, contentedly, as he presses kiss after kiss into your hair. He gently rests his hands on your waist and pushes you against the door– not as an act of dominance, like if someone were viewing you two from afar might assume, but one of simple convenience.

His hand reaches up to tilt your chin to the position he wants. Before leaning in to your neck, he pauses. 

“Are you sure you don’t just want to go to bed?” he asks. “You didn't sleep last night.” You shake your head, giving his cheek a small peck of your own.

“It’s one of those tireds where I can’t even think about sleep ever again.” 

A small smile grows on his face.

“I bet I can change that,” Spencer offers, knuckles skimming over your waist. You smile and let him tug you upstairs to your room and guide your hips to sit on the bed. His hand cups the side of your jaw, as always, lips moving to press against yours in a soft, affectionate display of his adoration. His other hand moves to your waist, squeezing, and you shiver a little in response, making him hum gently. 

His hands go underneath the hem of your top. “Okay?” he asks. You nod, lifting your arms to help. His eyes take their time tracing over you, but never in a way that couldn't be defined as sweet. His hand leaves your cheek and goes to the bedside table, sliding open the drawer. It draws toward the front left corner, as it always does, when it pauses. He turns to look at you, hesitating.

You, whose legs are now pulled up to your chest, chin resting on them. You stare at the yellow light of the lamp you and Spencer picked out months ago reflecting against those countless little squares of foil. 

Your lips are drawn inwards, between your teeth, unable to help your mind from racing to other realities, ones where every detail is the very same, except Spencer chose not to open that drawer tonight. 

…

Spencer explained the basis of quantum immortality to you a long time ago, in the early stages of your relationship, at a time so late in the night where a regular person would never be able to form coherent thoughts, let alone thoughts like these.

You were slumped over the kitchen island, peering at him as he wandered around, silently marveling at the preciousness of your boyfriend the world seemed to take for granted as he tried to get you to understand how cool this concept was.

“There’s also an interpretation of quantum mechanics proposed by a physicist named Hugh Everett which involves a ‘many worlds’ concept: essentially, it suggests that every possible outcome of an event creates its own branch of reality, meaning an infinite number of parallel worlds exist, each containing a version of events where everything that can happen, does happen,” he starts, widening his eyes for dramatic effect. “So quantum immortality is rooted in the concept that when we die in one timeline, we essentially just move on to the next one where every detail is the same except… well, you don’t die.”

He went on to emphatically talk about some guy’s cat in a box, but how this time, in a thought experiment that demonstrates this theory of immortality, you’re the cat.

You had pretty much lost him when he got to that part.

…

You blink, shoving the memory from your mind. 

“You’re staring,” you point out quietly.

“You’re pretty,” Spencer responds. He sits next to you on the bed, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. You watch as his other hand fiddles with the condom he grabbed, running his thumb over the edges of the wrapper. His mouth opens and closes a few times before he says, “Did I do something?” You shake your head softly. 

“Mm-mm.”

“Really? Because we’ve been sitting in silence and you haven’t stopped staring at the condom in my hand for the past two minutes.”

You exhale quietly, internally screaming at yourself to just spit it out.

It’s never been easy, being an agent dating an agent. Sure, agreements have been made to not profile each other, but with so many years of experience, small observations and connections about your partner’s nature are an automatic practice. You know that Spencer takes 3 sugars in his coffee just as well as you know he says your name more frequently and shortens his sentences when scared, almost like he tries to instead convey the appearance he’s mad.

You also know very well that you and Spencer have both been consciously avoiding this conversation like the plague, especially since his homecoming. 

You gnaw at your lip, trying to think of something to say, but your mind can only come up with freaky images of cats that are simultaneously alive and dead until observed.

“`M sorry, I was just thinking. Lost in my mind.”

“Thinking about what?”

Relationships that are simultaneously kept and broken until a certain conversation is had.

“Um. Quantum immortality. Who’s that guy? Hugh Jackman?”

Spencer straightens, eyebrows raising a little. “Hugh Everett,” he supplies. His tone is gentle, coaxing. “You’ve been thinking about that? I told you about him months ago.”

He stands as you quietly think of a response, grabbing a hoodie from the closet to tug over your bare torso, letting his hand gently cradle the back of your head after doing so.

“Yeah. I did a little more reading on it. It’s kind of a nice thought I keep going back to. Obviously really, really scary when you think about it for too long. But nice in the sense that there’s probably a version of us out there somewhere where…” you trail off, suddenly extremely aware of the weight of your words. 

He glances down to the condom he left on the comforter.

The thick silence that follows feels like it stretches across a thousand timelines, each one probably also filled with countless what-ifs and unspoken words and really bad communication, and at the very root of all of it, fear. That deep, gaping hole in both of your souls.

When Spencer finally looks at you, his eyes are so deep it takes your breath away. So deep that it jars you into just saying it.

“Spencer,” you begin, voice so quiet. “Do you still want kids?”

You find yourself shooting up a silent prayer to whoever is out there looking out for you– God or Isaac Newton or Hugh Everett or Jason Gideon: 

Pleasesayyespleasesayyespleasesayyespleasesayyespleasesayyespleasesayyespleasesayyespleasesayyespleasesayyespleasesayyespleasesayyespleasesayyes.

When he doesn’t answer right away, you continue– a habit probably picked up from the person standing right in front of you. “I just feel like there was a time where we were almost talking about it, but then it… went away.”

He reaches out to gently take the condom you were now fiddling with and sets it back in the drawer, his hand resting on the edge of the table as if grounding himself. His face is soft, almost glowing in the dim yellow light.

“I know,” he starts, voice crackling at the edges.

You stay dead silent.

“I didn’t mean for it to go away,” Spencer says, the crack in his voice causing you to glance up and see his eyes brimming with unshed tears. “I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.”

You nod, shakily, though the perpetual ache in your stomach is sharper now, more like it’s a knife stabbing you through the gut.

“I get it,” you say, even though part of you doesn’t want to. “You don’t need to be sorry.” You can’t even bring yourself to think of the implications of what he just said– all you know is that there is something fundamentally different between you and Spencer that wasn’t there before.

“It’s not that I don’t want it. I do. You know I do. But I can’t. Not now.”

You reach out your hand for him to take.

“Spencer,” you whisper. “It’s okay. Really. We don’t have to talk about it any more.”

His lips press into a thin line, and you can tell he doesn’t believe you. Clearly. It wasn’t a statement said to be believed. There was nothing okay, at all, but this isn’t a fight- there’s nothing to fight about. There's just a quiet understanding. He nods, finally, and steps back. “We should get some sleep,” he says, his voice almost too soft to hear.

You watch as he pulls back the covers and slides into bed, still in his work clothes, leaving just enough space for you beside him. After a moment you curl up next to him because, despite everything, doing the alternative would be so much worse.

Spencer's arms wrap around you, his breath warm against the nape of your neck, and you close your eyes and let the silence settle over you both, feeling the steady beat of his heart against your back. Something you would have given anything to have not so long ago.

[luminni]

Some of you guys wanted a more in depth look into this post of mine so I expanded upon it and I shall deliver! but this can be read on it's own ofc.

Enjoyyyyy <3

Simon woke up with a start, even in the low lighting he could tell he was in an unfamiliar room and a small stirring next to him alerted him to the fact he was close to an unfamiliar presence as well. No, not unfamiliar, but not familiar enough for his heart not to jump slightly at noticing you. Your hand grabbed a fist-full of his shirt and you were seemingly trying to pull yourself impossibly closer to his presence. His startled heart began to melt, and in the calm your resting face brought him he began to remember how exactly he got here.

////

“M’ tellin ya mate yer going tae like ‘er,” Johnny teased, bounding a couple steps in front of Simon, turning back to him and rocking back and forth on his heels, hands shoved into his pockets to protect them from the cold. As Price often quipped, the scott couldn’t stand still for the life of him.

“Mhm,” Simon just grumbled in response.

“See mate, That’s the attitude that scares all the girls away.” Johnny commented, hands outstretched and exaggerated.

“Whatever.” Simon huffed, rolling his eyes. Johnny wasn’t wrong, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d done anything with a girl that wasn’t a quick lay, even then it had been months, not to mention going out on a proper date. Well, a date was a stretch, you were Johnny’s roommate and close friend for a couple years. He had heard of you, but never met you and now Johnny was insisting that he go on a date with you because he was convinced it was going to work well, Simon wasn’t convinced in the slightest.

“She’s real nice though- so put away the tough guy act big man- girls don’t like that.” Simon couldn’t believe he was getting dating advice from his sergeant, so he just doubled down and kept scowling but Johnny kept pressing. “I'm telling you she's a real sweet girl, kinda lass who would try tae make a crying baby laugh on the tube or go and feed some mangy stray dog, perfect for a prickly bastard like yerself.”

“Okay okay, Jesus ’s not like ’m going to scare ‘er off on purpose.” Simon relented 

“You better not, getting laid might do you some good man, calm yer ass down a wee bit” Johnny chuckled

Simon would have yelled at him for that comment but his friend cut him off, “‘Kay we’re ‘ere,” Johnny chirped, “Gaz and his girl should be inside already and she’ll be ‘ere soon,” Johnny said, pushing his Leftenant through the pub door.

Johnny had invited Kyle and his girlfriend for a kind of double date situation because he thought having another girl there would help you feel more comfortable, something Simon couldn’t argue with. Why Johnny’s single ass would be attending was a mystery.

The pub was warm and inviting, a stark contrast to the damp cold of the London streets. Simon quickly located Kyle and his girlfriend -whom he had met once before a couple months back- he couldn’t say he wasn’t jealous. Having someone sweet to come home to was a lingering thought that kept him awake most nights. A fleeting hope that persisted despite his best attempts at squandering it. Taking his coat off and quietly greeting the others, it would be a lie to say he wasn’t nervous, terribly so. His hands felt shaky, his stomach twisted in knots, Simon liked situations he could be in control of and this wasn’t one of them. He had no control over whether you would like him or not, over whether you would have a good time, and it terrified him. Johnny had talked you up and made you sound perfect, a fact he didn’t doubt but what if you didn’t “click”, what if the sergeant was wrong. Simon was so nervous he could have passed out right then and there, but little did he know Johnny had been playing both sides.

////

“Ya like serious guys right?” Your roommate had asked you out of the blue, a week or so prior.

“Uh yeah sure? I mean I guess so, more than immature assholes like you.” You had joked back across the small kitchen.

“Well,” He had began, unphased by your teasing, “There’s this guy I work with-”

“Don’t even.” you cut him off

“What?!” he whined

“Don’t try and set me up with one of your military bros,” you warned, “I’m not interested.”

“Just because your last dates have been busts doesnae mean you shouldn't keep tryin’,” He pleaded, catching the sponge you threw at him, “He’s a real good guy, kinda intimidating but you’d like him, promise!”

You glared at him before going back and forth, Johnny was really trying to sell this guy, and he wasn’t wrong, your last three dates had been nothing short of disasters. Selfish bastards that only talked about themselves and wanted to fuck and nothing else. So, after lots of pleading -and a couple tasteful photos from them at the gym- you agreed.

So as you walked closer and closer to the pub, your nerves were buzzing. Just gotta get past his tough exterior is all, Johnny’s words of advice rang through your head. Thankfully your roommate had invited another one of his friends there along with his girlfriend, you would have been hyperventilating if it was just going to be you and some guys. As you reached for the door, you could only hope Johnny was right about this guy.

////

“There she is!” Johnny called out, snapping Simon from his thoughts. He looked to the direct he had sauntered off in to find you. Removing the thick scarf from around your neck, and rolling your eyes at your friend’s shenanigans.

‘Shit shit shit’ Simon began to spiral, biting down harshly on his lip. You were pretty, like really pretty, trying to warm your cold cheeks up with the back of your hand. You looked like the kind of girl a guy would dream about and have to spend a moment getting over after the morning alarm rang. Simon knew he wasn’t unattractive by any means, but it was too damn easy to get self conscious around someone like you.

Noticing his anxiety, Kyle gave him a harsh pat on the shoulder, “Just act natural mate, you’ll be fine.” Easier said than done

You approached the table and it was as if all the pub lights had suddenly focused on you, either that or you were admitting this kind of angelic light from your person.

“Right then,” Johnny began gesturing around the hightop table, “That’s Kyle and his girl,” they smiled and waved, you did the same back, “an’ tha’s the man ‘imself, Simon Riley.”

You took the seat next to him and held your hand out to him, “It’s nice to finally meet you Simon.” You beamed, looking him up and down. He took your hand and he couldn’t help but notice how much smaller it was, how it fit so softly into his. He couldn’t even begin to process the way you had said his name, almost like a little whisper in the buzz of the pub, just the sound made him dizzy.

“Likewise,” He responded, though it was little more than a whisper, “‘eard plenty about you from Johnny.” He continued, accent low and thick. He could’ve kicked himself, even the most normal sentences sounded strange when he said them in front of you. You cast a side eye to your roommate, raising an eyebrow.

“Only the good things hen!” Johnny defended himself, hands in the air. Simon was in love already.

////

Intimidating was the understatement of the century, this guy was absolutely terrifying. He had to be at least 6’4”, probably over 200 pounds of pure muscle, topped off with the most soul piercing brown eyes you’d ever looked at. But there was something more behind all of that, those eyes betrayed just the smallest amount of vulnerability, and with how softly he took your hand in his, maybe Johnny was right. 

Thankfully the conversation flowed easily, having Kyle and his girlfriend there helped and Simon was surprisingly easy to talk to. He didn’t say too much, but he always made it so clear he was listening to every word you said, hanging on every syllable. Nodding along and encouraging you to continue. When he did talk, his voice was low, grumbly and deep but somehow soft at the same time, like he was trying to approach some frightened wild animal. Not to mention the way you couldn’t stop your heart from pounding when he leaned down to hear you better, your height difference on full display even when you were both seated. 

As the night went on, conversation shifted from being the entire table, to you and Simon going back and forth between each other. Bodies angled towards each other, he had taken his mask completely off by the time the food arrived and you couldn’t deny he was handsome, in a rugged and charming way. When the conversation began to naturally sizzle out you pointed to his arm,

“Tell me about your tattoo?” you asked innocently. Kyle and Johnny held their breaths, their leftenant didn’t open up about stuff like that, got defensive when anybody asked about it. To their surprise and relief, a smile tugged at his lips and he began to gently explain to you the parts of his sleeve, leaving out the more traumatic parts.

“Bruv,” Kyle whispered, leaning into Johnny, “This is like- actually working out.”

“Just had to work some of that MacTavish magic mate.” Johnny grinned, elbowing his friend

“Please never say shit like that again.”

Even when Simon began to feel comfortable enough to start cracking some jokes and Johnny thought his chances were done right then and there, you buckled over and laughed, hitting at his bicep. Not noticing how his eyes shone with pride when he was the one making you laugh.

“I’m going up to get another drink, anybody need a refill?” You asked, nodding as people put in their requests. Simon watched you leave as you weaved your way through the crowd, his eyes never leaving your figure- the curve of your waist more specifically.

“Don’t just stare at her mate, go on ‘an follow ‘er ya big sap” Johnny teased, all but shoving his friend from his stool.

“Fuckin’ workin’ on it,” Simon growled, “Impatient bastard.” He downed the rest of his drink and made his way to where you were perched on the edge of the bar.

“Oh hey!” you beamed, “Did ya want something?” All of your attention immediately on him, Simon felt a surge of pride at seeing the dashed hopes of some stragglers who had obviously had an eye on you when you came up to put your order in.

“Jus’ gettin’ another whiskey is all.” He murmured. He watched as you put the orders in, including his, feeling a strange tightening in his chest when you had to lean in close to the bartender so he could hear your order. Smiling when your face screwed up after asking for a sip of his whiskey, eyes shining when you hummed along to the song blaring from the pub speakers. He realized he was going to have to lock this down immediately. 

“Would you-?”

“Hey um,” You unknowingly cut him off, “Would you want to keep talking somewhere quieter?” your eyes didn’t leave you fidgeting fingers, “Like I mean, the apartment is just a couple blocks that way.” you smiled, gesturing in the general direction. 

Simon would have jumped for joy if his pride had allowed him, instead he stuttered a response, “Yeah that sounds good, -I mean I’d like...that”

“O-okay, yeah okay,” you nodded, relief washing over your face, grabbing the drinks and asking him to follow. He downed the second glass of whiskey so fast he feared he might have drowned in it. You set the glasses on the table and began to grab your coat.

“Ya leavin’ already lass?” Johnny questioned, sounding a bit defeated, until he noticed Simon shoving his beanie onto his head with all the grace of a newborn giraffe. “Ohhhhh,” He smirked, wiggling his eyebrows, “You’re leaving.”

You threw him an exasperated look, “Did you remember your keys?”

“Ya know I never do” He winked

You smirked and rolled your eyes, tossing him your extra pair and adjusting your scarf.

“Now ye behave!” Johnny called after the two of you, “I run a right tight ship in tha' gaf an-” He stopped when Kyle threw and hand over his mouth and provided a sweet “Be safe on your way”

Simon gave him a curt nod and led you out of the pub with a steady hand on your lower back.

///

The brisk wind hit you the moment Simon opened the door for you into the outside world. A quick shiver passing through you as you let your arms wrap themselves around your body. Your ears began to burn and you cursed yourself for not bringing a hat. You only got one teeth chattering block before Simon noticed your bright red ears, with an amused sigh, he tugged off his beanie and ruffled his short, blonde locks. Without warning, the hat was then shoved onto your head, pulled snuggly over your ears. You whipped around to face him, big doe eyes shining up at him.

“Don’t mention it.” is all he said, before taking the lead and walking in front of you, thank god it was cold enough to blame his red cheeks on the harsh wind. 

You led him though the dark streets, your and Johnny’s shared apartment was only a 10 minute walk from the pub. 10 minutes that were filled with countless questions from you, questions that had felt too awkward to ask in the loud and crowded pub. Favorite color? Favorite song? Favorite food? Favorite animal? What kind of movies did he like? Did he like warm or cold weather? Simon couldn’t remember the last time someone wanted to know this much about him, people on base always seemed to want to get to know Ghost. To try and humanize the intimidating persona he took on when at work, they didn’t want to put in the work to know, to understand the humanity he already possessed. But here you were, asking him questions like your life depended on it. Not in some feeble attempt to make him less scary, but because you were genuinely curious about the person that he was. He felt strangely at peace around you, uncomfortably comfortable, or maybe it was just the fact you made him feel human.

You stopped him at the front of your building with a tug on his sleeve. He let you lead him inside, shuffle into the tiny European elevator that made him look comically large, and hold the door open for you as you slipped into the apartment. It was very clearly a place inhabited by Johnny, the xbox controllers on the coffee table, the 4 empty protein shake bottles in the sink, the ratty sneakers Gaz had begged him to throw away still by the door, and a sleeveless workout hoodie throw haphazardly over the back of the couch. That you scurried to pick up, not expecting company,

“Sorry, he just leaves his shit everywhere.” you sighed, grabbing the shirt and shoving it into the closet hamper.

“Don’t I know it.” Simon chuckled lightly. The parts of the apartment that grabbed his attention next were your additions, a lip gloss tube in the key bowl, a cute teapot on the stove, the CD player next to the TV. You had given the home a “woman’s touch” as Price would have put it. Simon found himself foolishly imagining where your items would fit into his sparsely decorated flat as he toed off his shoes, but then again he was here, in your apartment, so maybe not so ridiculous after all.

“You can come in, ya know?” You giggled from the living room, kneeling down to slot a CD into the player.

“Right, sorry.” he muttered, shuffling his feet across the creaking wood floors and taking a seat on the couch, wincing at how it groaned under his weight. You plopped down right next to him and just began chattering on above the din of the quiet music.

////

When the clock read 11:53, around an hour and a half after you had originally arrived, he began to get antsy. He worried you were going to ask him to leave, to exit this warm bubble you had created for him, it was late but he would have stayed for hours had you asked him.

His stomach dropped when you moved to get up, he had a feeling he knew what was coming. That this would be some one time thing like he had feared, a nice conversation and nothing more. He began to clench and unclench his fists subconsciously, the thought of going back out into the cold streets now felt torturous. But then you just asked him sweetly what kind of tea he wanted.

“Anything.” he rushed out, just relieved he could stay here, with you a little longer. He followed you like some lost dog into the kitchen, watched you fill up that cute teapot with water and click on the stove before leaning against the counter across from him.

You were pressed close by the small layout of the kitchen, “I uh, I hope you don’t mind the music I put on.” You murmured, trying to fill the suddenly awkward silence.

“No, I like it.” He responded bluntly, but  his eyes were no longer meeting yours. For the past hour they had been locked onto your lips. Gaze silent, but wanting. 

Gingerly, you reached up a hand to his face, noting the way his breath caught in his throat when your fingertips brushed against his scarred skin. On the tips of your feet now, you tilted your head to get around that handsome roman nose before gently placing your lips on his. It was quick, fleeting, it ended as soon as it started. You pulled away, embarrassed due to his deadly still posture, not a hair on him moved.

“Sorry, I just, well- it was a good time with you tonight and-”

It was his turn to cut you off, the quick kiss apparently being all the motivation he needed to surge forward, sliding his hand onto the curve of your waist and guiding your head with a gentle hand on your cheek. Your surprised yelp was swallowed up by his lips enveloping yours. Pressing your body to his and inhaling deeply, it was as if he was trying to swallow you whole with his figure. 

Finding a gentle rhythm, he moved his lips against yours, and god were they soft. Like velvet against his chapped and scarred ones. He practically growled when your lips left his, his mouth chased yours. Quirking into a crooked smile when he noticed you teasing smirk. The hand on your cheek moved so he could intertwine his fingers in your hair, cradling the back of your head and guiding your lips back to his. The sweet kiss turned hungry and feverish, the hand on your waist slid down to cradle where the fat of your ass met your thigh. All of a sudden you were being lifted to sit on the counter with just one of his hands, placed down gently by him before he resumed his desperate grip on your thigh. You attempted to move away once more, to catch the breaths he had been taking from you. But his grip tightened on the back of your head,

“Don’t.” The deep rumble of his Manc accent had you pressing your thighs together.

He noticed immediately, smiling as he trailed those kisses down towards your neck, “Ya like that sweet’art?” The grumble in voice almost made it sound like he was purring.

You nodded quickly, gasping and whining as he found that sweet spot on your neck. “Tell me whatcha’ want love, c’mon love need’a ‘ear it.” He growled, forehead resting against yours.

“You.” was pathetically all you could manage after the sudden release of the tension that had been building since the moment you asked him to leave the pub, but that was good enough for him. He let out a low whine and let his forehead rest on your shoulder, one hand slipping up underneath your sweater and the other finding the hem of your jeans. You were back to whining in his ear and placing soft kisses on his neck, both of you too wrapped up in the moment to hear the click of the front door lock and someone made their way inside.

You both heard the door close though and paused, not daring to look, bodies tensed and unmoving.

“Hey we’re back,” Kyle’s voice, “Soap said it was okay if I came to grab copy of- oh.”

Another awkward moment of silence before-

“Ye’ owe me a tenner then Gaz!" Johnny erupted into laughter.

“Aye! No, I still won!” Kyle argued back “It’s 12:11 now, so technically it's not today anymore mate.”

“Yeah but 12:11 's still tonight and I was bettin' that they’d shag t'night so I think-”

“COULD YOU GET THE FUCK OUT JOHNNY?! WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?!” You suddenly snapped, finding your voice under the mountain of embarrassment you were under. Simon had been completely silent, hands now white-knuckling the counter top, as he looked away from the scene, staring holes into the cabinets under the sink. All while still leaning over you, jaw tight and teeth grinding, the tips of his ears noticeably red.

“ 'ave some sympathy lass! I jus' lost a tenner!” Johnny continued, unfazed, “I mean really Lt. could ye 'ave started a wee bit sooner then? What were ye waitin’ for? A full moon?”

Simon stayed silent so you took it upon yourself, “WHAT WERE YOU THINKING JUST BARGING IN HERE?!” You tried to regain some decency and push Simon away so you could stand up, but he remained stationary against your attempts to move him, still having a staring contest with the wall.

“I live 'ere too, ye know! An' I texted ya!”

You groaned, realizing your phone sat untouched on the couch.

“Just- just-” You let out a frustrated growl, “You are insufferable.” You hiss, finally slipping from Simon’s guard and yanking on one of his firmly placed hands, and he let you. Whirl him around and wordlessly drag him down the hallway to your private room, following your steps.

"What about yer tea?!" Johnny called out, laughter lacing his voice.

"Oh fuck off!"

////

You shut the door behind you after shoving him through it, embarrassed beyond belief and burning with frustration.

“Sorry he’s such a pain in the ass”

“ s’okay,” Simon finally spoke again, “was hoping to end up here anyway” 

That made your eyes widen and cheeks burn almost uncomfortably hot, as he swiftly crossed the room to continue what had been rudely interrupted. He clung to your waist like his life depended on it.

“But he’s-” You began, in between feverish kisses “They’re still-”

He growled in your ear a low, “Let ‘em hear.” It was once again all the warning you got before one hand lifted you up once more “wrap ya' legs 'round my waist sweet thing,” he encouraged, "yeah jus’ like tha’.” He smashed his lips against yours, walking you over to your bed, avoiding the clothes you had strewn around from trying to get ready early on that night, which he immediately picked up on. Setting you gently on the bed, he began to murmur against your lips with a smile, “What's all this? Wanted to look nice for me huh?”

You nodded along dumbly, the feeling his hardened cock in his trousers pressed up against your clothed core became all too much. He let out a low chuckle as he felt you ankles lock around waist.

“ 'M not going anywhere love don’ worry” He slid two calloused hands back under your sweater, ready to take it off. He stopped immediately upon hearing your whines of protest

“Wha’s wrong then love?” He whispered

It took all your brain power to form a coherent sentence in this state but somehow you managed. Lazily removing a hand from his neck and pointing behind you, “The window.” you said breathlessly.

He turned to find the blinds of your street facing window open. He might have been able to deal with his mates hearing some but strangers was a different story.

“Shit.” he untangled himself from you and quickly pulled them shut, “Don’t need anybody seein' what I’m doin' to my girl.”

“Your girl?” you questioned weakly

“Yeah,” he smirked, “ ‘m keepin’ you.”

////

It had all come back, crashing down on him like a wave. He could barley believe he had spent the night with you. You had actually want him, asked him to stay, let him have you, all of you. He untangled himself from you arms, hellbent on grabbing you a hot towel and a glass of water. He slipped into his boxers and his T-shirt and quietly opened the door to slip into the hallway. He could only hope you believed he meant what he said when he told you he wanted to keep you, though now he cringed at his confidence and wording.

He was met with a smirking Johnny leaning over the island as he entered the kitchen.

"Where's Garrick?"

"Fucked off back to his place before you woke up."

"Hm." Simon grabbed a cup from the same cabinet he saw you had last night and began to fill it at the sink.

" 'Hm'? really? Thas' it?" Johnny scoffed "Come on then mate? How'd it go?"

Simon was about to disappear back into your room, without so much as another word to the sergeant before he stopped. Without turning he muttered a quick, awkward, "Thanks."

"Ya know what, I'll take it." Johnny clapped a hand over his friends back and Simon winced. The scratches on his back you had given him burned a bit.

"Oh?"

Simon grumbled and left a bemused Johnny in the kitchen. Back in your room he was reminded how lucky he really had gotten. The sun light perfectly highlighted and shadowed your featured. the curves and dips of your naked body were covered loosely by your white sheets. Your sleeping face peaceful and angelic, you really did seem like a dream.

So he could put up with Johnny more, for you.

A/n: Is this just me coming to terms with the fact I have a humiliation kink? Yeah probably.

[spiderb00]

Loving You Is Easy

Daniela Avanzini x reader 

“You weren't very open with your feelings, but somehow, your girlfriend always knew how you felt.” 

Genre – Fluff   Warnings – None  (request)

Now playing – Get You, by Daniel Caesar ft. Kali Uchis 

Carefully, you climbed the stairs, the grip of your firm hands on the tray with the breakfast you prepared for you and Daniela to eat in bed. Your house was quiet, except for the sounds of birds singing that could occasionally be heard from outside. Slowly opening the door to your room with your foot, you saw a still asleep Daniela, engulfed by the large and cozy sheets and clutching your pillow. 

You and Daniela had been dating for five months, and these were the best five months of your life. Daniela was kind, loving, intelligent, beautiful, funny, and talented, and you didn't know how you got so lucky to be with this girl. You had no idea why Daniela had chosen you; she was a singer starting her career, an amazing singer, and an even better dancer. You, on the other hand, were just an ordinary person; you had a good job at a large company and were happy with everything you had achieved. 

Placing the tray on the bedside table, you went to the curtains, opening them a little to let a small amount of light in, starting to prepare the environment to begin the morning. Looking at Daniela still asleep, you smiled, your heart warming at the scene before you. 

You met Daniela very randomly, I mean, not so much, but to you it all seemed part of a story, a movie script, almost too perfect to be true. Your little sister is a big fan of Katseye, the twelve-year-old girl couldn't contain her happiness when you got her tickets to see the Kats perform. Since the girl couldn't go alone yet, you accompanied her, as the big sister you were, going with her to the show and then to the backstage, where she could meet the girls and get some autographs. 

And that's where it all started, in fact, you didn't even know that Daniela had kept an eye on you, but the Latina hadn't looked away from your tall figure since you had entered the room. And when your sister approached to get the girls' autograph, she took the chance, approaching you while your sister talked to the other Kats. The Latina was friendly and funny, she captivated you the minute she opened her mouth. And after exchanging phones, here you are, happy in a relationship.  

Sitting on the bed, you leaned over, spreading kisses across Daniela's face, making the woman shift on the bed, her eyes slowly opening and a smile appearing on her face as soon as she saw you.   

"Good morning, mami." You said jokingly with the woman, making her take one of the pillows and throw it at you.   

"Stop. Use your mouth to give me kisses and not to speak." Daniela said, leaning in and leaving a quick kiss on your cheek.   

"You didn't complain when I called you like that last night-"   

"Hey!" The Latina screamed, climbing on your lap and covering your mouth.  

The smile on her lips said she wasn't really bothered by the word, she was just messing with you. The Latina on top of you was one of the best sights in the world, Daniela's eyes were beautiful, and they became even more so when the sunlight hit her iris. You hadn't said it out loud, but you sure were in love with her.   

"Are you going to keep talking?" The blonde asked, her hand still in your mouth. All you can do is raise your eyebrows and shake your head negatively, watching her smile and lower her hand. "Good."  

Laughing lightly, you took the Latina off your lap, gently placing her on the bed, picking up the tray and placing it next to her, on top of the blankets.   

"Did you do that to me?" Daniela asked, a tender look in her eyes, making you just nod your head positively.  

"Well, you always wake up hungry, so..." You said, shrugging and feeling Daniela grab the back of your head.  

"Awn, baby, that's so cute." The blonde pulled you in for a quick kiss. "I love you. Let's eat?!" 

"I love you" the three words you had never been able to say back. You felt guilty, Daniela was always a very loving person, and she showed it in every way. Not that you didn't love the woman, you just couldn't say the words, somehow, something in you stuck and you felt a great unknown fear.   

"Baby, are you listening to me?" Daniela said, snapping her fingers in front of your face.  

"Oh, sorry, I just get distracted." You said, leaning over and giving your girlfriend a kiss on the cheek. "Keep talking, baby."   

The mall was one of the places you least liked to hang out with Dani, but as you did anything to make that girl have a smile on her face, you always went without complaining. Right now, you carried countless bags in your hands, all your trips to the gym were worth it, because you never thought that Dani's shopping bags could be so heavy.   

 As you and Daniela walked towards the exit of the mall, the Latina suddenly stopped, seeing something you didn't want her to see.   

"Look at that cute t-shirt, baby!" The Latina turned to you with excitement, almost as if she wanted you to be as excited as she was. 

"Wow, it's so beautiful, baby." You said, seeing the Latina's smile get bigger. "We can come another day to buy if you want to-"  

"Another day? Baby, let's buy it now, it's already in front of us. I bet it's limited edition." The Latina said, walking up to you and putting her hand in your back pocket, grabbing your wallet and taking out your credit card.   

Standing on tiptoe, the blonde gave your lips a little seal, handing you the bag she was wearing (which you had bought for her last week) and heading towards the store with small jumps of happiness.   

"I love you, baby." She said, stopping quickly to talk to you before continuing on her way into the store.   

"Damn." You snorted.   

You parked in front of the Kats' house, your girlfriend had texted earlier saying that she needed you, and that she was alone at home. You knew Daniela was working hard in rehearsals, your girlfriend was a spectacular dancer, and she always struggled to keep up the momentum and stay as good as ever.   

Grabbing the bags full of snacks in the back seat, you got out of the car, heading to the door of the Kats' house, not waiting long for the door to finally open and a bouncing Daniela jump on your lap. Balancing with the girl hanging on to you like a koala, you entered the house, closing the door with your foot.   

"Wow, you really missed me, huh?" You said, sitting on the couch with Daniela on your lap.  

"Of course I missed you, who else would I annoy all day?" The Latina said, making you roll your eyes.   

"You love me." You said, not realizing how the phrase sounded.  

"Yes, I do." Daniela said, looking at you with a twinkle in her eye. "I love you."   

Getting even closer, the Latina kissed you. You tried to keep up with her at first, trying to mask the feeling that had been eating away at you all this time. Separating from the kiss, you looked at a confused Daniela, sighing and taking the Latina off you. 

"What's wrong, baby? Did I do something wrong?" Daniela asked, making you feel even worse.  

"No, you didn't do anything, baby. I'm sorry, I'm the problem." You said, running your hands through your hair in agony.   

"What do you mean by that, Yn?" The blonde asked, starting to get worried about your attitudes.   

"I feel guilty. You always tell me how much you love me and how happy you are to be with me and I never got to tell you back. Sorry, I don't know if you've ever thought about it, I like you a lot Dani, I really do, I love you actually, I don't know why I can't tell you that. This must be so exhausting. Sorry, I don't want to make you feel like this-"   

"Did you just say you love me?!" Daniela interrupted you, looking at you with adoration.  

"Did I say so?" You said, genuinely surprised, that you had managed to let it all out.   

"Yes, baby. You said it!" Daniela said happily, climbing on your lap again, kissing your face and lips. "I love you, mi amor. I never cared that you didn't speak with words, because you always said it with your attitudes." Daniela said, leaving you relieved and confused.   

"Did I say?" You asked, still a little confused.   

"Baby, you do everything for me. I know I'm a little spoiled sometimes." You nod your head, making the blonde pat your arm. "But, you never say no to me. Baby, you bring me coffee in bed, let me blow your credit card limit, you follow me like a puppy, you do what I tell you-” 

"Hey!"   

"Baby, if this isn't love, I don't know what is."  The Latina said, bright eyes looking at you before Daniela leaned in and kissed your lips passionately.  

You melted into the kiss, entering a cloud of love. Daniela's lips were soft against yours, and after finally taking the weight off your back, everything seemed lighter. You finally managed to tell Daniela that you loved her, even if it was in the midst of despair, made you more comfortable with the blonde.   

"I really love you." You say, this time more calmly, observing the Latina's huge smile.   

Hello guys, how are you? I hope you are all well.

There may be some mistakes bc I'm dying of sleep and I haven't reviewed the story, I didn't sleep well tonight and I'm looking like a zombie.

in any way I hope you enjoy it

xoxo, spider.

[jmflowers]

Swarla Kisses Rated [x]

1. "Don't get dressed." (22nd November 2024)

The loud noise that occurred at the moment this kiss aired was the sound of an entire population's proverbial panties dropping. Has there ever been a hotter line spoken? This is the power-necking the soap community taught us about. Swarla started off SO strong it's frankly terrifying. 14/10 Carla knew what she wanted.

2. "Have you?" (29th November 2024)

When the most confident dyke on the cobbles asks you if you've changed your mind about your feelings for her, you are required by law to stubbornly keep your hand on your hip. Even if she pushes your hair back from your face as delicately as humanly possible??? If Lisa Swain ever looked at me like that I would burst into flames. 11/10

3. "Is that better?" (16th December 2024)

We reached the domesticity era of their love in 0.2 seconds flat and I for one am not upset about it. The way Carla nuzzles in? The tilt of Lisa's head? The repetition? I was not expecting more kisses so soon in their story. The only way this could've gotten better is if they'd eaten each other's faces after this had been a clearer angle. 7/10 Carla Connor saying, “I want you.” plays on loop in my head at all times.

4. "Mmm... truffley." (20th December 2024)

The prolonged eye contact???? The dazed look on Lisa's face immediately after?? The fucking giggles???? The sheer power Carla Connor has and wields for good (ie. my own entertainment). Coronation Street said y'all deserve this. 10/10 Carla can hand feed me any day of the week.

5. "See you later." (20th December 2024)

Have you ever seen anyone look so peaceful about a decision before? Carla Connor said, "Today's the day I kiss my girlfriend in the street." I know y'all were waiting for that Live Sally Reaction and it did not disappoint. I hope they kiss each other goodbye constantly forever. 6/10 The way she analyzed Lisa's entire face before leaning forward made me scream both internally and externally.

6. New Year's Countdown (31st December 2024)

If you thought I wouldn't lose my mind over the image of them off in a corner of the pub in their own little world, you were wrong. I need to know if this was a scripting choice, an acting choice, or an editing choice for reasons. I'm never going to get sick of the way Lisa pulls Carla closer by the shoulders (almost) every time they kiss. Lisa closing her eyes like that makes my heart stop beating. 8/10

7. "Ooh, your lip!" (31st December 2024)

You ever just get aggressively snogged by a woman who's falling in love with you (while your lip is busted open from fighting bad guys)? Superheroes really don't get days off but they do get the girl. I miss the power-necking (literally a month ago?!?), but this was still so cute. 9/10 for the sheer fact that Carla needed a New Year's like this considering she dies like 12 hours later.

8. "Won't take that long." (31st December 2024)

Carla Connor isn't the only one who nearly fainted shortly after this kiss. Lisa said let me flutter my drunk eyelashes at you. The way Carla opened her mouth?? The breathy, "You want to go to bed?" from Lisa??? The fucking forehead lean???? I am too goddamn gay for this to be on my screen. How did we get a month into this relationship and already reach 8 kiss scenes? 10/10 thanks Coronation Street for the gay rights.

9. "Please don't leave me here." (1st January 2025)

The fact that Lisa could walk away from Carla in this moment is frankly mind-blowing; her face is the same colour as Betsy's shirt. Lisa, woman, OPEN YOUR DAMN EYES. Someone said Carla looks like she died 3 hours ago and they're not wrong. 3/10 because I'm a sucker for the domestic nature of this but also I want to punch everyone in the face for not protecting our sick baby. Gold star for the Corrie makeup department and their highlighter collection.

10. "Are we okay?" (8th January 2025)

Lisa Swain's affectionate eye roll immediately after Bobby interrupted them is like 1/1000th of how we all really felt. She lingered on this kiss for so long. The hand coming up to cup Carla's head? The forehead lean again? Carla's little smile when she realized what was about to happen? Give these ladies a room that isn't in hospital or full of their children. 9/10 we're watching f/f hurt/comfort fanfiction live on ITV.

11. Comforting Hand (9th January 2025)

We're deep in the trenches of this hurt/comfort storyline now, kids. I hope Lisa plans on sitting vigil at Carla's bedside for the rest of their damn lives (yes I'm wearing my clown makeup while I watch this soap). 4/10 because my self-deprecating baby pulled away from the love and support she deserves.

[filmnings]

firstly,, THIS WAS SO GOOD. like i’m blow away. the fact that she was so against him, fought against him and every urge she had for him tooth and nail but relented in the end and made her feel sick… i love the characterization so bad. like damn i felt like i was getting gaslighted reading it, couldn’t even imagine how she felt. like he literally showed up at her door after she was hiding from him!!! talk about crazy. and that friend who gave out where she lives WILL be dealt with.

your writing is so pretty and i still can’t get over that ending line. it’s like,,, he’s so perfect and does all these things for her and says all these sweet words and is the perfect image of perfection yet she knows what the truth is when the gilded mirror shatters and she get a look at his blooded and bruised body. top tier writing and characterization!!!!!

hehe now into the live reading reactions! (◕ᴥ◕)

“There’s only one person who would ever show up at your door this late at night, and you’ve done everything you possibly could to avoid him for the past four months.” immediately i’m calling the cops.

“You hadn’t told him your new address, hadn’t spoken to him since the day you packed up your daughter and what little you had and left him, never looking back.” STALKER???? omg how did he even find her

“The knocking only gets louder and more aggressive to the point that you begin to worry that he’ll wake the baby.” if he wakes the baby i’m pulling out my bazooka and showing him a real bang

“blood drips into his bruised, swollen eye from a large cut on his forehead, just barely visible behind his wet hair sticking to his skin.” giggles and kicks feet—WAIT NO. sighs i love when they’re bruised and bloodied and miserable it makes them 10x hotter

“Don’t fucking call me that, Christopher. Answer my question.” OOOOOOOOOO NOT CHRISTOPHER

“You had a sneaking suspicion of just exactly where he had gotten that money from” MONEY TALKS~~~ DIRTY CASH I WANT YOUU DIRTY CASH I NEED YOU~~~~

“Who told you where I live.” “…A friend. Please, just take it.” that friend has 5 seconds to show themself before i light up the whole world

“You slide submissively to the side, open the creaking door open further for him to step into your living room.” i fear id let him in too

“I just want to see my baby girl.” excuse me you heathen????? you troglodyte??????????

“Something warm and heady swirls in your gut, unwelcome but in no way unpleasant.” she’s thinking about having his kid again LMAOOO me too

“I’ve been looking for you two for months. How am I supposed to keep you safe, my baby safe? I had to track my family down like dogs. What kind of mother keeps a father away from their child?” oh bitch please gtfo.

“She’s not your fucking baby, Chris! That’s my baby. Mine. You made that call before she was even born. You’re not her family, you’re hardly even her father— you’re nothing to her.” EXACTLYY!!! tell him!!!!

“You scoff. “If you really care that much about “our future”, you would have stopped this. Fighting for these clubs. The racing, the gangs. You would have listened to me and left it all behind, gotten a real job. Show me that you actually give a shit and aren’t just blowing smoke up my ass. You’re addicted to this, all of it. It’s sick.”” TELL HIMMMMM!!!!!!

“”Get out.” Surprisingly, he does. He takes one last long look at your fussing daughter before slowly turning and shuffling out of the nursery.” AND DONT COME BACK!!!!!!! (please do)

“All the muddy shoeprints and puddles of rainwater.” THE ASSHOLE DIDNT EVEN TAKE HIS SHOES OFF??????

“I know you still love me.” Chan professes boldly, a wild spark in his eye. “I know you do, baby— you know I love you too. More than anything. Why won’t you let this— us—work? Why are you trying to run away from me?” hehehehehe id fold like a fucking lawn chair LIKE…. “i know you do, baby” FOLDED.

“I’ve missed you so bad… please, baby, don’t ever leave me like that again.” GODDDDD keep begging

“Your eyes flutter closed as you bask in Chan’s affection, preen under his loving gaze and delight in the way he cradles you as if you were made of glass— you feel so precious yet so fragile, yielding to a man strong enough to shatter you completely, leave you nothing but a pile of dust and broken shards.” this paragraph. woah.

“All you can think of is how passionately Chan devoured you, the force of his kiss almost punishing, like a soldering heat that bonds metal. Yet it felt like anything but a punishment, doused in a honeyed sweetness that called to you like a drug, dragged you under the waves of dreamy tenderness, filled your head with thoughts of how good it would feel to let yourself drown.” YEAHHHHHHH, also, this last sentence oh my god

“Come on, say it. Say you want me.” AHHHHHH

“C’mon, tell Daddy how badly you missed this.” i was just found dead. DADDY KINK LOVERS!!!!!!!!!

““Tell me you love me.” Chan grunts abruptly” OH????

“You feel weightless, floating, satisfied… and that makes you feel sick.” THIS ENDING LINEEEEEEE.

THIS WAS SO FUCKING GOOD HELLO??!??!!!

𝓑US𝓣 𝓨𝓞UR 𝓚N𝓔𝓔 𝓒A𝓟S 𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖ 방찬

you can't seem to get away from your ex husband, no matter how hard you try.

⧼ 🩹 ⧽ 一 𝓹a𝓲r𝓲n𝓰 ⸝⸝⸝ ex husband!bang chan 𝓍 fem!reader 𝓲nc𝓵u𝓭e𝓼 ⚬ ⚬ ⚬ unnamed oc daughter

𝓰e𝓷𝓻e ⚬ ⚬ ⚬ non-idol au, smut, angst, porn with plot

𝔀arn𝓲n𝓰𝓼 ⸝⸝⸝ dubcon, street fighter and underground boxer!chan, criminal!chan, mentions of jail and gangs, graphic descriptions of blood and injury, toxic and possessive behavior, toxic ex!chan, manipulation, explicit language and sexual content, soft dom!chan, degredation and praise kink, rough sex, unprotected sex, creampies, dirty talk, breeding kink, impregnation mentions, clit slapping, daddy kink, squirting 𝔀𝓸r𝓭 c𝓸un𝓽. 6. 2 k | ⧼ 🥊 ⧽ 一 𝓽𝓸 𝓵i𝓫rar𝔂.

♫ 𝓫u𝓼𝓽 𝔂𝓸ur 𝓴nee ca𝓹𝓼 ❪ 𝓳o𝓱nn𝔂 𝓭on'𝓽 𝓵eave 𝓶e ❫ 一 𝓹𝓸m𝓹𝓵am𝓸𝓸𝓼e

[n𝓸𝓽e𝓼.] my first fic on my new blog! something shorter to start out with <3 this took me a little too long to write i'm afraid since it's my first go at angst themes but i'm pretty proud of how this turned out! this isn't proofread, so please lmk if there are any mistakes! feedback is greatly appreciated <3

THE KNOCK ON THE door makes your heart fall to the pit of your stomach, cutting through the peaceful quiet of your kitchen like a knife. You drop the pot you were scrubbing in shock, clanging loudly as you grip the edges of the sink in a futile attempt to calm the pounding of your heart. At first you think— hope— that you were simply just hearing things, your little skyline apartment falling back into an uncertain silence sprinkled with the pouring rain outside, an atmosphere that no longer felt comfortable. But the knocking starts again, loud enough to be mistaken as thunder, ringing in your ears like alarm bells. You nearly jump out of your skin, your hands shaking as they reach out to turn off the water faucet. There’s only one person who would ever show up at your door this late at night, and you’ve done everything you possibly could to avoid him for the past four months.

It couldn’t possibly be him. It had to be someone else, your landlord or a neighbor or a maintenance man or anyone. You hadn’t told him your new address, hadn’t spoken to him since the day you packed up your daughter and what little you had and left him, never looking back. But you hadn’t called for maintenance, and you hadn’t heard from your landlord, and the way that his fist beat on the door as if it had somehow offended him was unmistakable.

You consider, for a split, mindless moment, that you could simply ignore him. He’s just a man, after all— a weak, spineless one at that, underneath that intimidating façade he loves to hide behind. He’ll give up and leave eventually, you try to convince yourself, but you know him far too well to fall into that blind hope. The knocking only gets louder and more aggressive to the point that you begin to worry that he’ll wake the baby.

The thought alone is enough to get your blood boiling, a red-hot anger overtaking any amount of fear or trepidation that kept you back. You refused to let this coward affect your daughter, wake her up without a single thought or care when you had just spent hours gently rocking her to sleep. Not after everything you’ve went through to keep him away from her.

You hurl the sponge into the sink with a scowl before spinning around and storming to the door. You wrench it open mid-knock, leaving the man on the other side of it standing there with his fist outstretched and blinking at you owlishly.

The sight of him shocks you to your core, despite how much you had tried to prepare yourself— blood drips into his bruised, swollen eye from a large cut on his forehead, just barely visible behind his wet hair sticking to his skin. The rain washes it away, down his chin to drip onto your welcome mat, staining it a faded red in the outline of his scuffed sneakers. He’s drenched down to the bone, the sharp ridges of his pecs and abs visible through his white tee shirt, the thin dark jacket he had draped across his shoulders doing little to protect him from the ever-worsening downpour. His dominant hand he curls protectively against his bloody abdomen; the knuckles are busted, and his pinky finger is twisted unnaturally to the side.

You look back up to his face just in time for him to flash you a weak, wobbly smile, a wounded ghost of the ones that used to send your heart soaring and fill your stomach with butterflies. His plump bottom lip is split down the middle, a jagged crater that threatens to open even further with every movement he made.

“Hey.” he croons, dropping his fist to his side, pained little smile dropping into more of a wince.

“What the fuck are you doing here?!” you hiss venomously, praying to any god that would listen that he couldn’t tell how badly you were shaking. “How the fuck did you get my address? Go away before I call the cops. I thought I told you I never wanted to see you again.”

“Come on, baby, wait—” you try to slam the door shut, but he catches it with ease, and even one-handed he’s stronger than you could ever hope to be.

“Don’t fucking call me that, Christopher. Answer my question.” You sneer, biting back hot, painful tears.

If any of your words hurt him, he doesn’t show it. Instead, he extends his wounded hand, prying open his fingers with some effort to present you a bloody, crumpled wad of bills.

“For her.” He says simply.

Your eyes rake over the bills as if they were alien, hardly able to muster up the breath needed to scoff at him incredulously. “I don’t want your dirty money.”

You had a sneaking suspicion of just exactly where he had gotten that money from, it was written all over his busted, bleeding face— under no circumstances would you line your pockets with the bettings from street fights, feed and clothe your daughter with money that people had shed blood for. You had told him this when you had left him, given him the choice to leave it all behind or lose everything.

He chose the streets, and you kept your promise.

Yet you don’t have the strength to slam the door in his face, no matter how much you ached with the desire. Chan keeps the bills outstretched, the blood-smeared faces printed on them winking up at you, taunting you.

“Who told you where I live.”

“…A friend. Please, just take it.” He whispers, just short of begging. “I know how badly you need it. He told me you were struggling.”

“You don’t know anything.” you spit, but there’s no fire behind your words anymore. The rain has put it out, left you defeated, feeling betrayed, admiring how the streaks of lightning illuminate Chan’s hunched over silhouette. Your mind wracks itself for whichever one of his goons could have possibly caught sight of you, but you come up empty. You fear he may have found you through an inside source.

 Thunder booms in the distance, much like your heart. The helpless, desperate look in Chan’s big brown eyes sends the rest of your defenses crumbling to dust.

he tries to shuffle his way inside, and you let him— everything inside of you yells at you to stop him, shove him away and close the door, never to look at him again. But you don’t. You slide submissively to the side, open the creaking door open further for him to step into your living room. No matter how hard you try to convince your muscles to move or your mouth to open and retort, all you can do is stand frozen by the door, watching with wide eyes as he drips blood onto the carpet.

He tosses the stack of cash onto the coffee table, the bills unfurling and flying everywhere. You count sixty, maybe seventy thousand won, all those zeroes staring up at you as your mouth goes agape.

You had been losing sleep for days over having to tell your landlord that you would be late on rent for the third time this year. Somehow, you feel like Chris knows that, though it was impossible to tell how— it brought you back to all the times before where you swore that he could read your mind.

It seems that he still could, even out in those dark alleyways, on the other side of the city. Tethered to him. Just what you were afraid of.

“You’re getting blood everywhere,” you finally manage to say, your usually strong voice timid and weak. “at least let me clean you up.”

Mindlessly, you scamper back to your kitchen, bending down to rummage through the cabinet beneath the sink. your first aid kit was still in there somewhere, hidden behind a mountain of cleaning supplies and spare bottles, something from your old life that you had held on to just in case. It was as if you were moving in a trance, just sheer muscle memory, the situation all too familiar; you couldn’t count the amount of times Chan had come home just like this before, back when you were still together, beaten and staggering but grinning victoriously as you carefully clean and bandage him up. It used to excite you, even, in some sick, dark way. He never lost a fight.

But that was before you had gotten pregnant. Before the danger that lurked beneath the surface of your husband’s lifestyle creeped up on you and became all too real.

“I’m fine.” Chan replies gruffly, though the pain in his voice suggests otherwise. “I just want to see my baby girl.”

Your fingers freeze around the first aid kit, all the heat and color draining from your face. “You’re not seeing her.”

“You can’t keep me from her.” Chan replies coldly. “She’s my daughter, too.”

You jump to your feet so fast that your vision goes fuzzy, spinning around to watch with wild eyes as he balances his good hand on the wall and limps his way to the nursery. You hate how he still remembers where it is.

He smears a trail of blood across your tattered wallpaper. The sight of it shocks you into action.

“You get away from her!” You snarl, nearly leaping across the dining table to grab onto the sleeve of Chan’s jacket. “Don’t you dare go anywhere near her!”

He shoves you off effortlessly, his sheer strength nearly sending you flying back against the wall. “Stop acting like I’m going to hurt her.” He growls, making it to the nursery door in the time it takes for you to regain your senses. “You know I’d never let anyone lay a single fucking finger on her.”

He quietly cracks the door open and steps inside, leaving you to follow him biting your tongue— you can’t bear the thought of her waking up, especially now with Chan in the room. She hasn’t seen her father since she was born, and that was only because he had forced his way inside of the delivery room. He was essentially a stranger to her.

And, quite frankly, how she might react if she lays eyes on him again scares the shit out of you.

Chan staggers to the crib, quiet as a mouse, his large frame bending over the railings to look down into it. Your daughter lay on the mattress peacefully asleep, her little chest rising and falling with her soft, steady breaths. You’ve stared at her for hours before, studying every freckle, every wispy eyelash that brushed against her rosy, round cheeks. The way her nose is already starting to look like her father’s, his dimples forming around the upturned corners of her dainty little lips, always giving the impression that she was enjoying her dreams. Whatever they were, you took some comfort in knowing that they were, they’re better than what waits for her when she opens her eyes.  

Chan is nothing short of entranced, grabbing ahold of the crib’s railings with both hands, so tightly that his cracked knuckles were threatening to split back open. He gazes at her sleeping little form with a look in his eyes you’ve never seen before— a fire burning, but not one that hurt or destroyed. Not anything like the fire in his eyes you were used to. It was one that warmed and protected, the watchful, dutiful stare of a weathered knight in armor.

Something warm and heady swirls in your gut, unwelcome but in no way unpleasant. You fixate on his face, unable to look away, and watch awe-stricken as your ex-husband refamiliarizes himself with his daughter’s face.

“She’s grown.” He whispers, undoubtedly able to feel you breathing over his shoulder. His voice is flat and lifeless, but it starts to break at the end— he blinks hard, and you swear for a second that you saw his eyes shiny with tears.

“Oh, she’s a monster.” You reply easily, the rampant emotions swirling around in your head calming down at the sight of your baby peacefully sleeping. Talking about her is soothing, almost therapeutic. “Always hungry. The doctor says she’ll be nearly nine kilograms by the time she’s six months.”

“My little girl… she was so tiny in my arms…” Chan laments, lowering his eyes to look down at his hands. It was like he was looking at someone else’s, shocked by the dirty, bloodied state of them. He suddenly wrenches them from the railings and shoves them in his soaked jacket pockets, the act causing him to grimace with pain. In the peripherals of your vision, you see faint bloody fingerprints smeared across the white wood.

You struggle to keep your voice calm. “She’s gotten so big so fast… it feels like that day was just yesterday.”

Chan’s gaze hardens and grows cold again, his head spinning to stare you down with an ironclad sharpness. “Not to me!” he spits, gritting his jaw. “Not when you wouldn’t let me ever fucking see her, wouldn’t tell me where you were, how you were doing. I’ve been looking for you two for months. How am I supposed to keep you safe, my baby safe? I had to track my family down like dogs. What kind of mother keeps a father away from their child?”

Your shoddy mask of calmness cracks, red hot anger flaring back up again and rising to the surface. Your voice trembles terribly, but the disgust in your words is palpable. “She’s not your fucking baby, Chris! That’s my baby. Mine. You made that call before she was even born. You’re not her family, you’re hardly even her father— you’re nothing to her.”

The last comment strikes a chord within him. He stalks towards you, his dark eyes boring into yours, all that stormy emotion churning in them focusing directly onto you. Chan isn’t exceptionally tall, but you feel so incredibly small underneath him; he looms over you like some kind of predator, his lip curling back into a nasty snarl. “I’m nothing to her because you made it that way.” He seethes, his deep voice growing louder and louder. “Don’t you ever try to put it in my baby’s head that I don’t love her. Stop trying to convince yourself, for fuck’s sake— you both are absolutely everything to me, you know that. Everything that I do is for our future.”

You scoff. “If you really care that much about “our future”, you would have stopped this. Fighting for these clubs. The racing, the gangs. You would have listened to me and left it all behind, gotten a real job. Show me that you actually give a shit and aren’t just blowing smoke up my ass. You’re addicted to this, all of it. It’s sick.”

“You don’t fucking get it, do you?” Chan sneers, shoving his face up against yours. “You just can’t get it into your dumb, pretty little head. What kind of “real job” is gonna take an ex-con? Even if they do, I wouldn’t make nearly as much money as I can out on the streets. All I want to do is provide for you and our daughter; can’t you see that? I’m doing what I have to do to survive. My own future is fucking ruined. You two are all I have left.”

“And you’ll ruin ours too!” you laugh incredulously, directly in his face. “With all your blood money and all the enemies you make. You’re going to get arrested and locked up again, destroy mine and my daughter’s lives— fuck, you’ll get us all fucking killed! What if someone you beat wants revenge?! These are dangerous people, Chris!”

“That’s what I’m trying to protect you from!!” Chan roars, slamming his fist against the crib’s guardrail. His voice and the loud thump startles you, all three of you— you and Chan both peer down into the crib to see your daughter’s peaceful sleeping face screw up, her mouth opening to let out a shrill wail as she kicks out her little chubby legs.

Chan’s face falls, all the bitterness and anger leaving his body in a rush, like he had a bucket of cold water poured over the head. He looks the part, anyway, still dripping wet from the rain, tearing his eyes away from your own to stare down at your daughter as if she were a ghost. Your rage overtakes you to the point it can no longer contain it, your entire body shaking as you manage to grit out two icy words;

“Get out.”

Surprisingly, he does. He takes one last long look at your fussing daughter before slowly turning and shuffling out of the nursery.  Your eyes bore holes into his back as he retreats, expecting him to turn around at any moment with some more nasty words to sling your way… but he never does. He stays completely silent as he shoulders open the door, doesn’t even turn to look back at you as it clicks shut behind him.

Part of you wants to follow him, chase him out snarling and snapping like some guard dog, but your daughter’s frightened little cries tug painfully at your heart strings. Tears of your own pool in your eyes as you carefully lift her out of her cot and snuggle her against your chest, soothing your hand down her quivering back as she hiccups into your sweater. “Shhh, it’s okay… you’re safe, Mommy’s got you…”

You rock her until she falls asleep again, fighting the entire time not to break out into sobs yourself, and when you finally place her back down into her crib and slip out of the nursery, you’re not at all surprised to see Chan still in your apartment, hunched over on the couch with his head in his hands.

Your apartment looks like a fucking crime scene. For the first time tonight you’re able to take everything in, all the blood dripped on the floor and smeared on the walls. All the muddy shoeprints and puddles of rainwater. The cabinets under the sink are still swung open, your first aid kit left forgotten on the kitchen floor.

You don’t have the energy to be mad at Chan anymore, your gaze lingering back on his weathered frame. You don’t have the energy to feel anything except empty. Depleted.

Wordlessly, you pick the first aid kit off the floor and make your way to Chan. He lets you cup his face without a fight, raise it out of his hands so you can dab an alcohol pad against the cut on his forehead. The sting makes him wince, but he doesn’t try to move away, looking up at you with eyes full of stars as you wipe away the dried blood from his skin. The dim lamp by the couch cast dark shadows across his handsome face, bathing him in a sensual, intimate light. You can’t bear to look back into them, the way they make your heart twist painfully in your chest, deep chocolate brown so effortless to get lost in. You busy yourself with bandaging up his forehead, and then his lip, and then his busted hand.

“Why are you doing this?” Chan whispers softly, the question making you stop in your tracks.

“I… don’t know.” You admit after a long pause. You do it without thinking, just like when he first stepped inside. Your natural response after seeing him hurt so many times before, playing nurse while he boasts to you about his triumphs, fills you with empty promises and proclamations of love. Your hero, swearing to you that you were his savior. Everything in you still aches to soothe him, heal his wounds and numb his pain, be his guardian angel like you used to be before his suffering became your own.

If he were addicted to the fighting, you would be addicted to what came after.

“I know you still love me.” Chan professes boldly, a wild spark in his eye. “I know you do, baby— you know I love you too. More than anything. Why won’t you let this— us—work? Why are you trying to run away from me?”

Your fingers pause in the middle of wrapping up his knuckles in gauze, quivering slightly as you let out an agonized sigh. “It’s not about whenever or not I love you, Chris. I have to put our daughter first. I have to make sure she’ll be safe and happy.”

You barely manage to finish bandaging up his hand, your knotting work far from the best. The minute you let go of him he pulls you right back, his big hands enveloping yours and squeezing tightly. “She will be, I promise. I’ll keep both of you safe, never let anything happen to either of you— I’ve got the means to keep you protected no matter what happens. You’re my everything… I’m so lost without you.”

His bandaged hand slides up to caress your cheek, his skin so bitterly cold. “Channie…” you warn, but you’re the weakest you’ve been all night. Chan can see it in your eyes.

“I was so fucking worried about you.” He continues softly, hushed like he was kneeling for confession. “I’ve missed you so bad… please, baby, don’t ever leave me like that again.”

Breaking feels a lot like letting go. Dropping all your fear and worry, any semblance of rational thought to finally allow yourself to nuzzle into Chan’s touch. He knows you too well, always knows exactly what to say to get your walls to come crashing down, what to do to when the smoke clears and you’re left defenseless amongst the rubble. Because, underneath all the piling resentment and hatred, the divorce, the distance you’ve been fighting for, you truly do still love him. You fear you always will.

Your eyes flutter closed as you bask in Chan’s affection, preen under his loving gaze and delight in the way he cradles you as if you were made of glass— you feel so precious yet so fragile, yielding to a man strong enough to shatter you completely, leave you nothing but a pile of dust and broken shards.

You’ve never felt safer.

“God, you’re so pretty…” he whispers awestruck, under his breath almost as if he were talking to himself. His thumb maps out the curve of your cheekbone, down, down, down to your pliant, pouting lips. The pad of it is hardened and calloused, rough against the soft skin of your bottom lip, but the sensation leaves you aching for more; you open your eyes to bat your eyelashes up at him, open your mouth to invite his thumb to creep inside.

The flash of carnal, animalistic lust in his eyes sends a wave of liquid fire coursing through you, down your spine to where it pools heavy in your belly. You purse your lips around his thumb and suck it in deeper, hollowing your cheeks as if you were sucking on something else entirely. Chan groans deep in his chest, his other fingers curling tight around your chin to pull you towards him. “Fuck. Come here, babygirl.”

You surge forward to capture your lips with his, and he meets you halfway; the pillow softness of his lips are hauntingly familiar against yours, yet somehow they feel completely brand new, like uncharted territory in a land you’ve ventured in countless times before. Any chastity is quickly tossed to the side with the heady sensation of his tongue tracing the seam of your lips, the warmth in your belly heightening into a wild swirl. You’re shocked by your own eager response, opening up immediately to let him ravish your mouth with a forceful domination that left you weak. He pulls you effortlessly onto his lap, your legs spreading to wrap instinctively around his waist, the closeness of your bodies maddening. Your blood pounded in your ears, leapt from your heart with a scalding fire, and made your body tremble, senses reeling as if you had short-circuited. Clashing emotions whirled around in your head, but your consciousness had left you the minute your lips made contact with his. All you can think of is how passionately Chan devoured you, the force of his kiss almost punishing, like a soldering heat that bonds metal. Yet it felt like anything but a punishment, doused in a honeyed sweetness that called to you like a drug, dragged you under the waves of dreamy tenderness, filled your head with thoughts of how good it would feel to let yourself drown.

You kiss him back with reckless abandon, hands reaching out to hold him, anywhere you possibly can— the wispy hairs at the base of his neck, the worn leather of his jacket, the grooves of his defined muscles through the fabric of his wet tee shirt. He crushes you against him, swallows you within his big beefy arms, one of his hands running down the small of your waist to grab a fat handful of your ass. You gasp against his mouth as his touches grow bolder, massaging the globes of your ass and guiding your hips to glide against his. The outline of his half-hard cock pokes at you through his jeans, growing thicker and stiffer with every passing second, pressed perfectly against the curve of your cunt. Your sleep pants are thin enough to where it feels like you’re wearing nothing at all, and when Chan cants his hips up his bulge grinds right against your clit. He does it again, and again, until you’re squirming helplessly against him, panting and moaning into his mouth.

“Chan, we can’t do this…” you manage to stutter out between kisses, the reality of the situation finally beginning to dawn on you again. But Chan ignores your plea, his lips leaving yours to sear a path down your neck and shoulders. He nibbles at your skin, kisses the pulsing hollow at the base of your throat, distracting you enough to slide one of his hands to cup your pussy.

“Yes we can.” He croons against your heated skin, hot tongue escaping between his lips to lick a tantalizing stripe up your neck. “I can feel how wet this pussy is, baby, how needy you are for me. Just let me in, princess, let me take care of you…”

He slides his fingers down your covered slit, your clothes sticking to your mound with your sopping juices, drenched to the point you can’t possibly hide your arousal. Your engorged clit aches, empty hole clenches around nothing… you whimper pathetically in defeat.

“Come on, say it. Say you want me.”

You really were nothing but an addict. Addicted to the power he holds over you.

“fuck, oh f-fuck— right there!”

Chan knows every single spot inside of you to make you scream, his thick cock hitting each one expertly with each of his powerful thrusts. The angle he has you bent in makes you see stars, his big rough hands clasped tight around your ankles to push your legs up against your chest and spread you wide open— he’s never fucked you this roughly before, his feet planted on the mattress to pound into you animalistically, but even then there’s still a bitter tenderness to the way he holds you up against him, gazes down at you in rapture as you fall apart beneath him.

“Yeah? Right there?” He coos, deep Aussie accent dripping with poisoned honey, “Feel me all the way in your tummy, baby? Feel this fat cock splitting you open? Fuck, you’re so tight, sucking me in. Greedy little cunt.” He lets go of one of your ankles to press down on the bulge he’s made in your belly, your trembling leg curling over his shoulder in ecstasy as the pressure in your core increases.

“So deep!” you hiccup stupidly in reply, fisting the sheets as your world explodes and shatters behind your eyelids. His bulbous cockhead slams repeatedly against your cervix in a punishing rhythm, so deep inside of you that you mindlessly fear that he’s pushed through and was fucking your womb. “Deep! S-so fucking big!”

Chan growls like a beast, his efforts doubling in speed and intensity, “Missed this cock, didn’t you, princess? God, listen to how fucking wet you are. Hear how badly this cunt needed me?”

He emphasizes his claim with a particularly harsh thrust, your pussy squelching obscenely around him and filling your dark, quiet bedroom with loud, filthy noises. “C’mon, tell Daddy how badly you missed this.”

Somewhere in the back of your mind, you worry that you’ll wake up the baby again. Chan fucks you loudly and shamelessly, like he doesn’t care that your daughter sleeps in the room just across the hall... the thought reignites your anger.  You want to accost him, defy him, tell him that you didn’t miss him at all. That you weren’t desperate for him to make you cum and finally leave you satisfied after months of frustration. That you didn’t think of him at night when you played with yourself, or when you took another man to your bed, because as much as it agonizes you no other man has ever made you feel as good as he does. But you couldn’t string the words together, could hardly even think with how pleasure coursed through every fiber of your being. Besides, Chan knows when you’re lying.

“M-missed your c-cock,” you admit between whimpers and moans, your face burning with shame and arousal. “M-missed Daddy’s cock so fucking much, needed it so bad— oh, fuck, Chris, Daddy, please—!”

Chan snatches your hips and tugs you roughly towards him, lifting your bottom half up off the bed to fuck into you impossibly deeper. Your mouth falls open in a gasp of sweet agony, arching your back and tossing your head against the pillows. The show of sheer strength gets you impossibly wetter, your juices coating his heavy balls as they clap wetly against your ass. “Good pussy.” He grunts, his fingers digging bruising indents into the flesh of your waist. “Love this pretty little pussy— gonna fuck it ‘til it’s molded to my cock. Gonna ruin you for anyone except for me. This cunt belongs to me, doesn’t it, baby? God, look at you… taking it like such a good girl.”

His words make your head spin, a searing need building in your core, molten lava beneath your skin heating your thighs and groin. It feels divine, better than you ever remember… but it’s not enough to send you over the edge, give you that release you crave so desperately. “Need more,” you keen, “More, Daddy, please!”

“Greedy girl.” Chan chuckles darkly, the sound going straight to your cunt. “Tell me what you need, baby, and I’ll give it to you.”

You can’t respond, fucked so stupid you don’t know what you’re begging for— Chan tsks like he’s disappointed, letting go of your hips with one hand to grab a rough fistful of your hair. He tugs your head up to look at him, dark eyes dripping with lust and delicious dominance; you struggle to keep your eyes open, your vision swimming and your eyelids drooping from the onslaught of pleasure Chan continues to pound into you. “Too dumb on cock to speak? C’mon, pretty girl, tell Daddy what you want him to do to you.”

He tugs on your hair again, pain erupting across your scalp. It blends with your pleasure to create a heady, dizzying cocktail of ecstasy. You cry out in delight, letting go of the bedsheets to scramble for something sturdier to hold on to, ground you— your hands find purchase on your own tits, bouncing with Chan’s thrusts, and you knead the plump flesh with a wanton sob, your fingers twisting and pinching at your nipples hard enough to make you shake.

“My clit!” you finally manage to whimper out, broken and pathetic. “My clit, my clit— touch me, touch my clit, please!”

He does as he promised, leaning back to spit messily on your clit before letting go of your hair to circle the bud with his thumb. Your head falls back limply onto the pillows, hazy eyes rolling back in your head as you sob and hiccup in uncontrollable pleasure.

“Gettin’ close, babygirl? I can feel it, pussy squeezing me so tight— I’m close too, fuck, gonna cum so fucking deep inside of you!” Chan’s thrusts grow sloppy, his chest heaving as he pants open-mouthed like a dog. “How about that, hm? Want me to put another baby inside of you? So everyone knows not to touch what’s mine? I’ll breed this pussy so fucking full you’ll be dripping my cum for days…”

His words should scare you, should break whatever spell he’s put you under and have you begging him to pull out. But you’ve slipped away from reality, floating mindlessly in an erotic fantasy you’ve convinced yourself is too good to be true. You don’t want to wake up, don’t want to think about what lies ahead of you once Chan leaves your bed once again. You babble and beg for his cum, for him to bring you to your own climax, scratching deep red marks into his chest. They look at home amongst all the bruises.

“Tell me you love me.” Chan grunts abruptly, the rhythm of his thrusts slowing down to barely moving, his cock dragging along your gummy walls deliciously buy far too slowly.

You blink up at him in shock and confusion. “H-huh?”

“Tell me you love me and I’ll make you cum.” He repeats, his eyes boring into yours, a knowing look in his eyes like he can see into your soul. “I love you so much, and I’m gonna show it with all this cum I’m gonna pump into this sweet cunt… don’t you love me too? Just say it and I’ll give you what you want, what you need…”

You’re just on the precipice of orgasm, teetering on the edge but unable to push yourself over, and your poor heart feels so exposed and raw… you can’t help but relent to him, succumb to his desires like you always do.

“I love you! I-I love you, Channie, Daddy, love you s-so much— ah!!”

His hips pick up to a speed that seems nearly superhuman, rutting into you wildly like an animal in heat as he grunts and groans, pinches your clit hard between his thumb and forefinger to make you scream. It feels so good, too good, and big watery tears roll down your cheeks as your body begins to vibrate with your orgasm. You’ve never cried during sex before.

“Let go, my love.” Chan croons, slapping your clit lightly. “Let it all out…”

Your orgasm hits you like a tsunami, a tidal wave of explosive hysteria— with a shriek you squirt everywhere, all over Chan’s hand, belly, thighs, creamy droplets flying with every nasty wet thrust. Your gummy walls spasm around his cock, sucking him in deeper as if to ensure you milk him dry. “That’s it, babygirl, cum for daddy!” Chan howls, intent on talking you through it even as he creeps closer and closer to climax himself. “Fuck yes, such a good girl, making a mess for me— gonna cum now, too, gonna breed this pussy! Ready for it? Gonna take it all, right princess?”

“Yes! Yesyesyes, please, please! Give it to me, daddy!”

He shoots his load deep inside of you with an animalistic growl, hot and thick painting your walls creamy white. It feels never ending, fat cock twitching with every spurt of seed he dumps into your womb, filling you up so much that thick globs of it spills out around him and drips down his balls to mix with the puddle forming on the soaked bedsheets. His legs give out and he collapses against you, gasping for breath with his face buried in your chest; you wrap your weak, trembling arms around his neck, and the two of you dissolve into breathless giggles as you slowly grind against each other ride out your highs. When Chan finally pulls out you see a foamy white ring around the base of his softening cock, sticking in his pubes.

You can feel your spent cunt leak his seed, dripping down your ass— Chan stares at in in awe, his fingers sliding up your sensitive folds to collect it and push it back inside.

“So beautiful…” he whispers, grinning as he admires your creamy bred pussy. His fingers at your hole makes you whimper in overstimulation, and you try to close your legs and squirm away, making him laugh. His eyes crinkle in that adorable way you hate to love so much. “You’re so beautiful.”

You don’t have the heart to make him leave, not when he runs you a warm bath and cleans you up so nicely. Not when he strips the bed and changes the sheets for you so you can lay comfortably, holding you close and whispering sweet nothings into your hair. Not as he promises to you that he’ll change, that he’ll do whatever it takes to keep you in his arms, that white picket fences are just over the horizon. You feel weightless, floating, satisfied… and that makes you feel sick.

©YEONINGZ, 2025. please do not repost, copy, or translate any of my works in any way, shape, form, or fashion. all rights reserved.

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[brokenmutations]

Angry Little Wolverines

Logan Howlett • She/Her Pronouns • Mutant!Reader [Speak to Animals/Mind Reader for Animals] • Have you even seen a Wolverine before? • SFW • TW: Minor injuries

“Okay, you’re called the Wolverine. Have you ever seen one before?” Y/N scoffs when questioning Logan as he was left speechless given it was indeed true. He’s never seen one before. “Jeez, Logan! You can’t take their whole style and not know what they look like”

“I didn’t name myself! How the fuck am I supposed to instantly know what they look like?”

“You lose your memory. Find out you’re named Wolverine…you weren’t curious?”

All the man did was shrug to such, making his partner scoff at him again before heading toward the garages promoting him to quickly follow in confusion.

“Where are we going?”

“To the worse place in the world” Y/N snatches the keys to his truck off the hook. “The zoo”

“How is that—-“ Logan stopped himself when she whipped her head quickly back at him in anger. “Right. Animal captivity. But why go if you hate it there so much?”

“Because I’m not driving all the way to western Canada to find wolverines in their natural habitats. Plus…”

“We ain’t doing a prison break. The cops are still pissed last time”

“UGH fine” Y/N sighs, opening the drivers side and letting herself in while Logan got in on his side.

The drive was pretty quick given Y/N went on and on about wolverine facts.

Did you know that the scientific name for wolverines is Gulo gulo and it comes from the Latin word glutton?

They average around a weight of 30-50 pounds and can take on grizzlies!

Wolverines chirp and coo at their young maybe that’s why you have a softer tone with Marie compared to everyone else

Not a part of the wolves family! Weasels actually

And she went on and on, Logan found himself irked in the beginning but eventually ease into the comforting rambling that came from Y/N about the creature.

Once they arrived at the zoo, Y/N couldn’t help but feel overwhelmed when they arrived given she could hear everything the animals were talking about. More specifically what they were complaining about. Logan expected to go straight to the wolverines but stuck by Y/N as she went to every animal talking to them to make them feel a bit better.

That stupid child wouldn’t stop tapping the viewing glass! The lioness roared at Y/N from the exposed area of the enclosure as she instantly turned to glare at said kid only for Logan to block her gaze.

“Are you going to fight a kid?”

“I will if I must!”

“Fight the parents instead, sweetheart. But also let’s not get kicked out of the zoo before we see this animal that shares my name”

Your boyfriend is the Wolverine? Another lioness came up to her friend on the perch, chirping at Y/N as she nods. Resulting in a huff from the lioness. Do you know what the exhibit has?

That brought a bit of anxiety to Y/N as her tensed posture made Logan instantly wrap an arm around her shoulders to ease some of it.

Even if the worry was toward nothing once it revealed the few signs at the wolverines enclosure that “There’s a hero named after us” and has images of Logan that he didn’t even know was taken of him.

“Least the rest of the world knows what wolverines are, Wolverine”

Logan scoffs as he watches Y/N approach the railing, she leans over to find a few wolverines huddled around something.

Need to escape

Need to escape

Baby doesn’t deserve this

Baby needs to escape

Let’s just say, Logan shouldn’t have turned away when he heard some bird cawing in a different part of the zoo.

“Well now I know what they look like and I should change my name”

“No! You’re a hero to them too yknow” Y/N gave him a soft smile as she sits in the passengers seat this time around, holding her chest for a moment that concerned Logan until it started to move. “What?”

“…You gotta stop reading their minds”

“What are you even talking about?!”

Logan squints at her leaning back in his seat crossing his arms. “They have a baby, a baby doesn’t deserve to live in captivity!” He repeats her words back at her, same words she uttered when they left the enclosure and INSTANTLY left the zoo. “Charles isn’t going to let you keep it”

“Well he can argue with me til he’s blue in the face!” Y/N opened the first few buttons of the flannel she wore to reveal the wolverine cub. “You can’t blame me!”

“This is kidnapping!”

“Not when the parents consented and helped me get the baby!”

“HOW DID YOU EVEN GET THE CUB OUT?!”

Angy The small cub started to growl at Logan, only for the man to growl back resulting in the baby hiding in her shirt.

“DONT BE MEAN TO OUR BABY!”

Logan face palms to such, but to her surprise, he started the car and started the drive back to the mansion.

Someone else can argue with her about whether to keep it or not…and to make sure zoo security doesn’t ban her.

[msbigredmachine]

All Over You (Jimmy Uso College AU)

Aria’s boyfriend is a distraction, not just to her…but to her roommate as well. College AU, OC/Jimmy/OC

Pairing: Black fem OC/Jimmy Uso/Black fem OC

Warnings: Smut, love triangle

Word Count: 5.8k

A/N: My first ever full length one shot for Jimmy! Sorry it took so long. This could probably classify as a pwp 😬

Enjoy!

It was deep into the night, and the sounds of Aria's moans drifted down the hallway, coinciding with the repeated thumps of the headboard against the wall. For probably the hundredth time since she moved in, Estelle was forced to listen to her roommate and her boyfriend, Jimmy, fuck each other’s brains out while she struggled to fall asleep. 

She pictured Aria’s vixen body and sweaty dark skin laid up under Jimmy’s gorgeous, buff muscles and caramel skin, as the smack of his hand on her ass and her whimpers right after, filled Estelle’s ears. He was probably taking advantage of that new long ponytail she had done yesterday just for him. 

"Yes, yes, fuck me, Daddy!" Aria’s voice cracked when Jimmy slapped her ass again. 

“Uh huh, take this dick, you wanted it so bad earlier huh,” Jimmy’s gruff voice moaned back, making Estelle squirm in her bed, “You better keep that back arched, come on…”

Estelle bit down on her lip. He sounded so fucking sexy. He could make a grown woman cry with the way he talked shit. She tried to imagine how it would feel; him beating up on her pussy, pulling her hair back while he taunted her, and it led to her hand skimming between her legs as she stared up at the moonlight pouring through the windows over her bed. She shut her eyes tight and honed in on every sound. The frantic clapping of skin. The bed springs creaking. 

Aria’s ever increasing moans. “Oh god, Daddy I’m cominnnn’…”

Jimmy’s animalistic grunts. “That’s right, baby, come on my dick. And spread that pussy open when you done, I’ma nut all up in it…”

Fuck. She wanted him. Badly.

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

Estelle was still horny when she woke at seven a.m. Luckily, she had no classes today, so when she was ready to shower, she grabbed her dildo and took it with her, intending to kill two birds with one stone. She got a thorough workout with the toy; in fact, it was so good that she had to shower all over again because she came so damn hard. At least she felt much better and better prepared to start her day.

Making her way downstairs and into the kitchen for her morning coffee, she came to a halt when she spotted Jimmy seated at the kitchen island, drinking out of her favorite coffee mug. She knew he and Aria didn’t have classes until later this evening, meaning he dicked her down the way he did on purpose. Poor bitch was probably out cold right now. He obviously thought Estelle was out of the house, because he was clad in just his boxers, showing off his buff body and all those tribal tattoos that made her mouth water.

"Mornin'," she greeted after clearing her throat, inwardly thrilled that he was seeing her in her favorite lilac silk robe open and displaying all her curves. The cotton tank top that matched her boy shorts outlined her large nipples. 

“Sup, E,” he replied, sipping from her pink mug with his eyes still on her. “Damn. You look sexy as fuck, girl,” he remarked.

It was an absurdly inappropriate comment, given Aria was just upstairs, still oblivious to the unspoken tension between her roommate and her boyfriend. But Estelle wasn’t fazed. If anything, the comment made her stomach tighten with an unfamiliar sense of power.

“So do you,” she replied, her voice low and playful, a hint of a smirk tugging at her lips. She noticed his gaze linger on her body. It was deliberate on her part—she knew exactly what she was doing. 

“That’s my cup,” she added, pointing to the pink mug in his hand. “My name’s literally on it.”

“Oops. My bad,” Jimmy said, not even attempting to apologize as he lazily spun the cup in his fingers. “You can drink outta that side if you want. In fact, come over here and have a taste.”

Estelle had to fight the urge to roll her eyes, her mind racing. Part of her wanted to lean into this, to make him see how far she could push him, but something else held her back. It wasn’t just the fact that Aria was upstairs; it was the knowledge that she wasn’t the only woman vying for his attention. The rumors surrounding Jimmy’s… ‘extracurricular activities’ on campus had been impossible to ignore, and Estelle knew she wasn’t the first one he’d flirted with. He was the kind of guy who used his charm to manipulate people, and she was no stranger to it. Yet, despite her better judgment, a part of her found it irresistible.

Instead of giving in to his invitation, she moved to prepare her coffee. She could feel his eyes lingered on her, their unspoken game playing out in silence. She couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to just give in, to let him take control, even if only for a moment.

But the sound of Aria’s footsteps on the stairs broke those thoughts. Estelle took another sip of her coffee, trying to mask her frustration that simmered beneath the surface.

Aria made her way down, her hair disheveled, wearing one of Jimmy’s oversized t-shirts like a dress. It was almost laughable, the way she smiled at him, the way she had no idea what was really happening in their relationship.

“There she is. C'mere, girl,” Jimmy said, a grin pulling at his lips as he looked Aria up and down. Estelle couldn’t help but feel a pang of jealousy. She hated how easily Jimmy could make Aria melt. The whole thing was pathetic.

Aria smirked, leaning in for a sloppy kiss that made Estelle’s stomach turn. She took another sip of coffee, her fingers tightening around the mug as she watched Aria pull away and smile dreamily at him. Estelle wanted to shout at Aria, to tell her to open her damn eyes, but she kept quiet. There was no use. Aria would never listen.

Clueless bitch.

“Y’all had a busy night,” Estelle commented out loud, almost too casually.

“We did,” Aria said, yawning as she stretched. “I hope we didn’t keep you awake.”

Estelle chose to keep silent, fighting the urge to roll her eyes.

“You gon’ be at my game tomorrow, girl?” Jimmy asked, his stare shifting to Estelle with an intensity that felt almost predatory.

She rolled her eyes internally. Of course, he’d want her at the game. It was all part of the act—she was supposed to be his girlfriend’s friend, the loyal one. The truth was, she was tired of being part of their charade.

“I’ll think about it,” she replied, her tone flat.

Jimmy’s expression hardened slightly, a trace of command slipping into his words. “Nah, you’ll be there.”

Estelle’s eyes narrowed at him, the nerve of this man. “Don’t speak for me,” she snapped, her voice sharp.

But he didn’t seem bothered in the least. He repeated himself slowly, his eyes locking with hers, sending a chill down her spine. “You’ll. Be. There.”

With that, he kissed Aria once more, lifting her off his lap and walking back upstairs. Aria watched him go, her eyes full of adoration. Estelle, on the other hand, watched the whole thing with disgust. She couldn’t believe Aria was still so blind to the emotional manipulation she was under.

“I see you two have stopped fighting,” Estelle remarked dryly as she cleaned up the counter.

“Eh. Couples fight all the time,” Aria shrugged, clearly still lost in her bubble.

Estelle couldn’t help but scoff internally. Jimmy and Aria’s relationship wasn’t a fight. It was a war—a war that Aria was too naïve to recognize. She thought she could fix him, change him, but Estelle knew the truth: a guy like Jimmy didn’t change. He just used people, breaking them down little by little and then discarding them when he was finished milking their life energy.

And yet, she couldn’t shake the thought of his lingering look before he left. The way he looked at her…like a predator sizing up its prey. She hated herself for wanting it, for wanting to see just how far this twisted game would go.

But she would play along. For now.

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

The victory party was like any other—loud, crowded, and filled with endless cheers for the star quarterback, Jimmy Uso. As usual, he was the center of attention, basking in the afterglow of his game-winning performance. But tonight, there was something different in the air. Aria and Jimmy, typically inseparable, walked into the party with tension hanging between them. Estelle noticed it immediately—the sharpness in Aria’s tone as she berated Jimmy in front of everyone. The argument was escalating, and the noise of the party almost seemed to fade into the background.

“I’m fuckin' done, Jimmy! I can’t keep doing this!” Aria’s voice rang out, and it seemed like a declaration that everyone in the room could hear. “You never change. I’m done for good!”

"Well, fuck you, then! Get your ass gone! I don't give a fuck no more!" Jimmy fired back, his voice laced with frustration. He looked every bit the part of the star he was—athletic, confident, with the cocky grin that Estelle had seen a hundred times before. But tonight, it seemed like that mask was slipping.

She couldn’t, even as Aria stormed off, help but notice how good he looked in his letterman jacket, his French braids sleek and tight. She tried to ignore the pull she felt in her chest, the way her heart raced whenever he was around. It was a feeling she had been denying for far too long.

She had been thinking about him more than she should, and now, seeing him embroiled in this fight with Aria, it only made her feel more confused. She didn’t like Aria, but she couldn’t help feeling guilty about the growing attraction she had for Jimmy.

As she sipped her punch, trying to stay out of the chaos, she was startled by a familiar, unwanted voice. Grayson, the campus creep with his smooth Australian accent and cocky attitude, sauntered up to her with a smirk plastered on his face.

“Hey, gorgeous,” he said, his hand already reaching out for hers. “Wanna dance?”

Estelle rolled her eyes, already fed up with his advances. She wasn’t in the mood for his usual harassment. “No thanks, Grayson,” she said coolly, stepping back.

But Grayson wasn’t so easily deterred. He reached out and grabbed her wrist with a firm grip, yanking her toward him. “Come on, don’t be like that. I’m just asking for one dance,” he insisted, his words slurring slightly from too much alcohol.

“Let go of me,” Estelle snapped, trying to pull her arm free. But he was stronger, his grip tightening as he pulled her closer.

“Aw, what’s the matter? You think you’re too good for me now? I’ve seen you eyein' me, babeee,” Grayson slurred, his breath hot against her face. His words were laced with an arrogant sneer, and Estelle could see the intoxicated aggression building in his eyes.

Before she could react, there was a commotion from across the room. In a flash, Jimmy appeared, his presence a thunderous force. He shoved Grayson hard, sending him stumbling back. “Get your fucking hands off her!” he growled, his voice rough and filled with anger. His usual confident demeanor was replaced with something far more intimidating.

Grayson attempted to stand his ground but was no match for Jimmy. With a swift shove, Jimmy forced Grayson back again, hard, this time sending him crashing into a nearby table, punch spilling everywhere. “You’re lucky I’m not putting you on your ass right now,” he spat, his fists clenched in fury.

The whole party had gone quiet, everyone watching the scene unfold in stunned silence. Estelle stood frozen, her heart racing from the adrenaline, and a strange mixture of gratitude and guilt filled her chest.

Without sparing another glance, he turned on his heel and stormed off, his face twisted in frustration. She didn’t know what came over her, but she found herself following him. She needed to say something. She needed to thank him, at least.

She found him in the pool house, sitting on the bed, his arms crossed tightly, as if he was holding in all the anger and frustration that had been building throughout the night.

“Jimmy?” Estelle said quietly, walking toward him, her heart lurching when he stared up at her with soft eyes. “Hey, thank you…for saving me back there.” She paused, searching for the right words. “You didn’t have to do that.”

He didn’t respond immediately. He just stared at her, his jaw clenched. Finally, he sighed and ran a hand over his head. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I’m so fucking tired of this shit,” he muttered, almost to himself. “Tired of the constant fighting, of pretending everything’s fine. Aria and me…we just keep going in fucking circles. I can’t keep doin' this.”

Estelle sat beside him, her heart unexpectedly softening. She wasn’t sure how to console him—this wasn’t the cocky, untouchable quarterback she usually saw. This was a guy who seemed genuinely torn, frustrated with the mess he’d found himself in. She didn’t know what to say, but she couldn’t stand to see him like this.

“I get it,” she said quietly, reaching out to gently touch his arm. “Relationships are complicated. But you don’t have to go through it alone.”

Jimmy turned to her then, his eyes filled with an emotion she couldn’t quite place. He looked at her like he was seeing her for the first time, like everything else had faded away. She found herself fidgeting under his intense stare.

“You’re so fucking beautiful, Estelle,” he said suddenly, his voice raw, almost desperate. “I’ve always wanted you. I think about you a whole lot more than I should.”

Estelle’s breath hitched in her throat. She had expected a flirtation, maybe a casual comment, but not this. Not this bold, looking at her with such intensity, such hunger. She had always known there was chemistry between them, but she hadn’t expected it to feel this electric.

Before she could even process what was happening, his lips were on hers, his hands pulling her closer, crushing her body against his. The kiss was hungry, urgent, filled with a rawness that left Estelle dizzy. She kissed him back, feeling that familiar rush of desire that she couldn’t deny.

He pulled her down onto the bed, his body pressing against hers. The air between them was thick with tension, his hands moving under her dress as he ground against her. Everything in her screamed to give in to this moment, to stop thinking and just feel.

But then, as the intensity of the moment surged, something in Estelle’s mind snapped. She broke the kiss, breathless, her chest rising and falling with quick, uneven breaths. Jimmy stared at her, confused for a second, then pressed his lips back to hers. But she pulled away, her hands shaking as she gently pushed him off her.

“No,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “I can’t…I can’t do this.”

Jimmy’s expression faltered, his eyes narrowing in an uncomfortable myriad of confusion and frustration. “What the hell, E? I thought…I thought you wanted—”

“I do, I mean, I did. But I can’t. I’m sorry,” she said, quickly sitting up and pulling her clothes back into place. “I can’t be the other woman. This isn’t right.”

Jimmy didn’t say anything. He just stood up, his anger quickly returning as he stalked out of the pool house, leaving Estelle sitting there, her head spinning.

She left the pool house shortly after, her mind a chaotic mess. She didn’t even know how to process what had just happened. The game she had been playing with Jimmy was no longer fun. Now, she realized, there was something real there, something deeper than just attraction, at least from her end.

But the guilt that gnawed at her felt overwhelming. She didn’t like Aria—not at all—but she knew this would hurt her. And as much as Estelle tried to justify it, the truth was that she was in too deep. Just like Aria, she had feelings for Jimmy now, and it was more complicated than she ever expected.

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

The next few days felt like a blur for Estelle. She had been avoiding both Aria and Jimmy since that night in the pool house, finding solace in the quiet solitude of the campus library. She spent her time studying, burying herself in textbooks, trying to ignore the turmoil swirling in her mind. But the avoidance was taking its toll. Every moment she spent apart from Jimmy made her heart ache, and every time she saw Aria, guilt gnawed at her, despite their complicated dynamic.

It was the night before the weekend, and Estelle had been in the library until it was nearly closing. Her head was aching from hours of studying, but she was trying to keep away from the inevitable confrontation she knew was coming. She could feel the tension thick in the air, a pressure building in her chest as she packed up her things.

As she walked toward the door, she froze when she heard the unmistakable sound of footsteps behind her. She didn’t need to turn around to know it was Jimmy. His cologne was like a storm to her, strong and overwhelming. She tried to ignore him, quickening her pace, but he was faster, reaching her with a few strides.

“E,” he called out, his voice low and commanding, “Estelle!”

She stopped in her tracks, her body stiffening. She didn’t want to face him. She couldn’t face him.

“Stop avoiding me,” Jimmy’s voice was firm, almost a growl, and she could hear the frustration in his tone. “I know what you’re doing. I’m not gon’ let you keep running from this.”

Estelle turned to face him, her eyes narrowing. She wanted to argue, to tell him she needed space, but her body betrayed her. She was drawn to him, the way he stood there, all confidence and power. His eyes were dark with desire, and was impossible to hide the fact that she wanted him just as much as he wanted her.

“Jimmy, I—” she began, but her words died in her throat as he stepped forward, closing the distance between them.

Before she could react, he grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her toward the back of the library, away from the prying eyes of students still lingering in the hall. They reached a quiet, secluded area, dimly lit by the faint glow of a single desk lamp.

Without warning, he pushed her against one of the shelves, his body pinning hers in place. She gasped as her back hit the cool wood, and his lips were suddenly on hers, fierce and demanding. The kiss was hungry, desperate, as if he couldn’t wait any longer. She moaned softly, her body responding to him without thinking, feeling an ache deep inside her that only he could satisfy.

His hands roamed over her body, sliding down her sides, pulling her closer, and she couldn’t help but melt into him. The intensity of the kiss, the heat of his touch, sent shockwaves through her. She wasn’t sure when it happened, but somewhere along the way, she had stopped trying to fight it. Her hands found their way to his chest, gripping his jacket, and she kissed him back just as fiercely.

He pulled away for a breath, his forehead resting against hers, his chest rising and falling with each ragged breath. “I know you want this,” he whispered, his voice low and rough. “I know you’ve been thinking about me just like I’ve been thinking about you.”

Estelle’s lips parted as she tried to speak, but all that came out was a soft, breathless moan. She could feel the warmth of his body, making hers ignite in a way she had never experienced before.

Jimmy,” she whispered breathlessly when he pulled back, but his hands were already sliding down her sides, gripping her hips, holding her in place.

“You been driving me crazy, Estelle,” he muttered, his mouth on her ear. “Walking around like you don’t know how bad I want you.”

She gasped as his hand slipped beneath the hem of her skirt, his fingers brushing the edge of her panties. “We shouldn’t—”

“Yes, we should,” he interrupted, his tone commanding. His fingers slid under the fabric, finding her already slick and warm. “You’re so wet for me. You can’t lie about what you want.”

Her head fell back against the shelf, a soft moan escaping her lips as his fingers pressed deeper, curling just right. His other hand cupped her chin, forcing her to look at him. “Say it,” he murmured, his voice dark and heavy. “Say you want me.”

“I…” Her words caught in her throat, swallowed by another moan as his fingers pumped inside her with purpose, his thumb grazing her sensitive spot.

“Say it,” he demanded, his voice dripping with authority. “I know you holdin' back. Let me hear you.”

Her resolve crumbled as his touch drove her higher, her body responding to him in ways she couldn’t control. “I want you,” she finally breathed, her voice trembling. “Fuck, I want you, Jimmy.”

“That’s my girl,” he murmured, his lips grazing her neck as he continued to work her with skilled precision. “I don't care if we in a library. Let it all out. Give it to me.”

Her body arched against him as she gave in completely, the tension snapping with a hot wave of pleasure that left her trembling in his arms. He watched her closely, a wicked grin tugging at his lips as she came undone for him.

“You’re so damn beautiful like this,” he whispered, his voice rough with desire. He pulled his hand away and licked his fingers, his eyes never leaving hers. “Sweet as I thought you’d be.”

Estelle’s cheeks burned, but her body buzzed with satisfaction. She couldn’t find the words to respond. Jimmy pulled her close, his lips still inches from hers. 

“Aria’s going home for the weekend,” he said, his voice laced with quiet intensity. “She’ll be with her parents. I’m coming to see you.”

Estelle’s heart skipped a beat at his words. A part of her wanted to say no, wanted to back away from the situation that was spiraling out of control. But another part of her—one that she couldn’t deny anymore—wanted him. Wanted him to come to her.

She swallowed, her breath hitching as she tried to steady her thoughts. “Jimmy, we—this is—”

“I ain’t askin’, E,” he cut in, his voice firm. “I’ll be there. I want you, and you want me. So let's get it. Nuff said.”

The words hung in the air, charged with a promise that sent a wave of heat rushing through her. She couldn’t say no—not when he was looking at her like that. Not when her body was already responding to his every touch.

Without another word, Jimmy kissed her lips, and then stepped back, giving her space but not letting her go completely. He gave her one last look, a look that told her everything he wanted, before turning to walk away, leaving Estelle leaning against the shelves, her heart pounding in her chest.

As she gathered her things, her mind raced. She didn’t know if she was making the right choice, but she knew she couldn’t stop what was happening.

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

Saturday arrived, and Estelle was a storm of conflicting emotions. Her heart raced with a mixture of excitement and guilt, the weight of her decision pressing down on her. She’d never imagined this would happen—never thought she’d go this far, but here she was. The pull of Jimmy was undeniable, and as much as she tried to suppress it, her thoughts always circled back to him.

Indeed, Aria had gone to see her parents, leaving Estelle with the house to herself. The silence of the empty space only made her nerves more acute. She couldn’t help but think about what she was about to do. Guilt gnawed at her, the thought of betraying her roommate, her friend, tugging at her heart. But then there was Jimmy, and the excitement of what was about to unfold. Estelle couldn’t ignore it anymore.

She took her time preparing, going about her waxing routine. Each stroke of the razor, each swipe of the lotion, was a moment of preparation, not just of her body, but of her mind. The anticipation was almost unbearable. As she smoothed the last layer of lotion into her skin, her body tingled with the thought of Jimmy seeing her, touching her. The thrill of it was intoxicating.

The hours dragged by slowly, every passing minute heightening her nervous energy. And then, the knock at the door. Her pulse surged as she approached it, her stomach fluttering with nervous anticipation. She opened the door, her breath catching in her throat when she saw him standing there.

Jimmy. His presence was magnetic, his heated gaze scanning her with a heat that sent shivers down her spine. The dim light from the hallway cast shadows across his face, making him appear even more striking. His eyes locked onto hers, and for a long moment, neither of them spoke. The tension in the air was palpable, thick with unspoken desire.

He didn’t need to say anything. His silent approach toward her was enough. Estelle’s breath hitched as he stepped into the house, his body brushing hers ever so slightly, sending sparks through her skin. The air between them seemed charged, and for a moment, it felt as if the world outside had disappeared.

“Ready?” His voice was low, teasing, with a hint of something darker behind it. His lips barely moved as he spoke, but the words felt like a command, a promise of what was to come.

Estelle swallowed hard, her throat dry, her heart thudding in her chest. Her hands were trembling, but she forced herself to steady them. She looked up at him, seeing the same raw desire reflected in his eyes that had been brewing between them for so long.

She nodded, her mouth dry, not trusting herself to speak.

Without another word, Jimmy closed the space between them, his hand sliding behind her neck to pull her closer. "Come here."

The kiss was slow at first—purposeful, teasing, testing. His lips took hers with just enough pressure to leave her wanting more. When she responded, it was as if a dam had broken. The heat between them flared, wild and desperate, as if neither of them could wait another second.

Estelle’s mind screamed for her to stop, to think about what this would mean for her friendship, however tentative it was, with Aria. But the sound of Jimmy’s low moan as he deepened the kiss drowned out her thoughts. Her body reacted instinctively, hands gripping the front of his shirt, pulling him closer, feeling the heat of his chest against hers.

As they broke apart for air, their eyes met again. This time, there was no turning back. The line between guilt and desire blurred, and Estelle knew, deep down, she didn’t want to stop.

Jimmy pulled her into his arms, lifting her effortlessly off the ground, his strong hands gripping her thighs. She gasped at the sudden movement, but it felt right, the way his strength enveloped her. She wrapped her arms around his neck, her fingers gripping the soft strands of his braids. He didn’t stop until they reached her bedroom. He laid her down gently on her bed, both sets of eyes dark with desire as they undressed. Estelle’s breath hitched at the sight of his dick as he rolled the condom he brought along over it; thick, long and dangerous, prodding against her folds as they kissed again, deep and slow. She couldn’t remember ever feeling so completely consumed by someone. Every kiss, every touch seemed to melt away the tension inside her, leaving only the need for more. His hands moved with purpose, sliding up the curves of her rounded hips as he hovered over her. His lips trailed down her neck, biting softly before whispering in her ear, 

“You been wantin’ this, huh? Don’t lie to me now.” His voice was low, teasing, and laced with desire, leaning into her as he guided his dick into her soaking wet, waiting pussy, both of them letting out throaty gasps at the sweet, sweet intrusion. Estelle’s gasps devolving into broken moans as he slowly rolled his hips, fitting all of himself into her…

“Shit…”

Jimmy’s hand found the small of her back, pulling her closer, their bodies pressing together in perfect rhythm. Her fingers gripped his braids, tugging gently as he kissed her deeply, their mouths and bodies moving in sync. “Jimmy,” she breathed, her voice barely above a whisper, her body arching into his.

He smirked against her lips. “Yeah, baby, say my name,” he murmured, his tone confident but full of hunger. His touch was firm but deliberate, exploring every inch of her like he had all the time in the world. “You so damn fine, I can’t believe I waited this long.”

Estelle’s breath hitched as he moved inside her, his weight pressing her deeper into the mattress. She couldn’t think—didn’t want to think. All she could do was feel. Her hands roamed over his broad shoulders, tracing the outlines of his tattoos as he leaned down, his lips finding hers again.

“Fuck, you feel good,” Jimmy muttered, his voice rough with desire as he guided her hips to meet his. The tension between them built with each movement, every touch sending shivers down her spine. Estelle couldn’t help but moan softly, her nails digging into his back as he kissed her neck, his hands gripping her thighs like he couldn’t get enough. He chuckled low, his voice thick with satisfaction. “Knew you would, baby,” he said, his words sending a shiver through her. “Goddamn…I can stay inside you like this all night.”

“Fuck me,” Estelle begged, her eyes rolling back as Jimmy obliged her, his gaze intense and unwavering, determined to make her feel every ounce of what he was giving her. Before she could blink, he had pulled out of her, barely giving her enough time to register his absence before he flipped her onto her stomach. She was on her knees on the bed, her hands quickly gripping the wooden headboard for support. Estelle glanced over her shoulder, her mouth falling open as he slid back inside her. His fingers tightened on her hips as he pulled her closer, the heat between them palpable. “Throw that shit back. Let me see what you workin’ with,” he ordered with a smack on her ass, admiring the jiggle of her soft skin.

Estelle didn’t hesitate, arching her back and meeting him with a roll of her hips that made his breath hitch. “Like this?” she teased, looking back at him with a raised brow.

Jimmy groaned, his grip on her tightening. “Yeah, just like that. Keep goin’, baby. I got you.”

The room filled with the sound of skin meeting skin, the rhythm they created echoing faintly off the walls. His low grunts and her soft moans intertwined, a symphony just for the two of them.

“You feel so good, baby,” Estelle whispered, her voice breathless.

Jimmy leaned forward, one hand sliding up her back until it wrapped gently around the nape of her neck. “You takin’ it like a champ. That recoil fire, baby. Proud of you.” He kissed the back of her neck, his lips lingering against her skin before he pulled back slightly. Any response she had was cut short by a sharp gasp as he drove into her deeper.

“Oh, shit, Jimmy!”

“Love the way you moan my name,” he said, a sexy smirk on his face as he spanked her again. “Move, baby, throw that ass back. You been waitin’ on this.”

Estelle pushed back against him, her movements fluid and confident. Jimmy's deep, gravelly voice filled the room with praises for her, his words a mix of filthy and sweet. Her nails dug into the headboard, her body trembling under his touch, but she kept moving, meeting him thrust for thrust.

“Fuck, I’m close…” she moaned.

“Yeah? Come for me…unhhh, shit, there you go, come all over this dick.” He groaned as her pussy gushed all around the length of him, clenching and suckling with each spasm of the orgasm that ripped through her. Only seconds later, he followed suit, pulling her flush against him and holding himself still as he came, spilling all he had into the condom buried inside her. He circled his hips slowly against her ass, making her moan as he gently tugged her up to make their mouths meet in a breathless kiss.

They lay tangled together, the glow of their shared moment wrapping around them like a cocoon. Jimmy’s hand traced lazy circles on her hip as she rested her head against his chest, their breaths slowly evening out. The satisfaction of what they’d just shared still lingered, the warmth of his body next to hers comforting and familiar.

Estelle finally understood why Aria was so smitten with him. Jimmy wasn’t just a college football star; he was powerful, magnetic, and he knew exactly how to make someone feel wanted. She had let herself get swept up in the chaos of their tangled emotions, and now, she was lost in him.

After a moment of silence, Jimmy spoke, his voice low and serious. “Estelle…this has to stay between us. No one can know. Especially Aria.”

Estelle looked up at him, her eyes wide, her chest tightening. It was a lot to ask, but she already knew the answer. She didn’t like Aria. She never had, not really. The guilt that had once weighed on her shoulders had now evaporated, replaced by something else—something that felt more like freedom.

“I understand,” Estelle said, her voice steady, despite the swirling emotions inside her. “It’ll be our secret.”

Jimmy’s lips curled into a satisfied smile, and he kissed her forehead, his muscled arms pulling her closer. “Good. That’s all I need from you. Now let me get back in this pussy and make you come again…”

What had started as a game between them was now something far deeper. And now, as he lifted her hips and sank back back inside her, she realized that she didn’t feel regret anymore. She didn’t need to worry about the future, about Aria, or about the consequences. She was here now, and Jimmy made her feel alive in a way no one else ever had.

Sorry, but not sorry.

THE END

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

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[vampstarkey]

  ·  ⁺  𝅄  ּInside the car // Rafe Cameron  ּ๋ ⭒ 

Synopsis: During a ride back to Rafe's house, he suggests an unexpected idea, fucking in the car.

♱𝅼 Warnings: car sex (obviously), cowgirl, neck sucking, titty sucking, unprotected sex & masturbation.

♱𝅼 Note: I didn't review this, I did it in the morning drinking my coffee lol, anyway I hope you like it. 😭

───ׂ─ִ────ׂ─ִ────ׂ─ִ────ׂ─ִ──

— Rafe, we can't do this here, it's risky, someone might show up. — Your rational thoughts told you it wasn't a good idea, but your body responded differently.

— Come on, who's going to show up here in the middle of nowhere? — His hand rested on your leg, giving you a little caress.

The rain was falling heavily outside, Rafe had stopped the car in the middle of the road. It was late, the chances of anyone showing up were minimal. The car window was completely fogged up by the moisture from the rain, leaving a comfortable space.

— Besides, it's dangerous to drive in this rain. — He finished as he settled into the front seat.

— You're great at winning me over — You replied and then rolled your eyes at him.

That was enough for him to act. With one free hand, he touched your waist, giving it a firm squeeze.

— I think it would be better if you sat on my lap, kitten. — Rafe patted his lap a few times, indicating that you should come over to him and sit there.

Without delay, you did so. You got up from your seat and adjusted yourself on Rafe's lap. The blond's hands went up to your ass, caressing it through the tight dress that hugged your curvy body.

— Damn, I've been wanting to touch you like this since morning. — Rafe was a pervert when it came to you, anything you did had an instant effect on him.

— You pervert. — Your laughter continued in his car. Your arms went towards his shoulders, resting there.

Rafe's jeans were getting tighter and tighter, the fact that you were sitting on his lap only reinforced this even more. Being the naughty girl that you were, you soon began to move, rubbing your ass on his hard member.

— For someone who was thinking before, now it seems too comfortable. — Rafe bit his lip, feeling you grind on top of him. His eyes didn't leave you, he was hungry.

— This is because of you, you're the one who does this to me. — You replied, fighting him back. Your pussy was already getting soaked, feeling the hardness beneath you.

He continued to squeeze your ass, creating friction between his cock and your wet slit. He could feel your wet panties under your dress. Your dress was quickly lifted, giving him a view that left him bewildered. You were wearing black lingerie that hugged your body and enhanced your figure. The cleavage on your breasts was exaggeratedly large, the boy couldn't help but notice.

— It must be a sin to keep all this hidden. — The sentence came out in a playful tone. Rafe groped your breasts eagerly while still rubbing his cock against you over the thin fabric.

Unable to contain your excitement, you pulled his shirt up, revealing the sculptural body he had, it was your downfall, without a shadow of a doubt.

— Baby, I need you so much. — Your voice came out slurred and sly. Her words were filled with malice in the air.

Rafe took his fingers to the clasp of your bra, undoing it in a hurry, now touching them without anything to cover them. Without saying anything else, he brought his mouth to your breasts, sucking and playing with your hard nipples. He ran his tongue over the length of your areolas wildly as if he were hungry. Your body reacted to every touch, the sensation was delicious.

— So tell me what you want. — Rafe stopped sucking your soft breasts and looked at your face, waiting for you to ask him exactly what you wanted.

— I want you to fuck me in this car. — You asked with those beautiful Bambi eyes of yours.

— Oh, baby... I'll give you what you want. — Rafe unbuttoned the blue jeans he was wearing without thinking twice, the atmosphere between you was so hot that he didn't think to say "wait" even once.

The pants slid down his legs and were completely left aside. Rafe pulled down his underwear, revealing his hard cock, your eyes followed towards the thickness of his member, you quickly grabbed it and touched it.

— You like it when I hold your cock like this, huh? — Your pussy blinked seeing that huge cock, you were dying to sit on it.

— I love it, baby. Ride my cock like the whore you are. — Rafe's voice came out in an almost desperate tone, he was so hard he couldn't even take it anymore.

You pulled your panties to the side, but without taking them off and still holding his member, you rubbed the head on your slit. Shivers took over your body, you moaned rubbing your hot pussy against Rafe.

— Fuck, I can't take it anymore. — Without patience, Rafe ripped your panties, he was so needy that he just did it.

— Hey, I liked those panties — You replied.

— Shut up, I have money to buy as many as you want and if I want I'll rip them all. — He squeezed the soft flesh of your ass watching that vision that was his and only his.

Without any prior warning, Rafe stuck his cock inside you, you were so wet that he slid in easily without the slightest effort.

— Oh, fuuuuuck. — You grunted, but soon began to move on top of him. That cock was fucking you so good, you just did your job like a good girl ready to satisfy the guy who made you cum so good.

You leaned on the car window as you rode him. He was fucking your pussy walls so good. Your moans became louder every time your pussy went up and down with every inch that consumed you.

— Little slut. — Rafe moaned in your ear as he held your waist, helping you with the intense riding.

He turned his attention back to your breasts as you rode him, Rafe squeezing your nipples as he watched you bounce like a bitch. Your pussy swallowed him whole, Rafe just wanted to fill you up.

— Your cock feels so good, oh, shit. — You put on a show, going up and down faster and faster on him.

The rain fell outside as you fucked each other inside the car, it was a unique sensation, you would definitely experience it more often after that day.

— What if I put my cock in hard just like that? — Rafe moved his hips up, helping you with the movements.

— Yeah, please. — You closed your eyes, feeling the pleasure of consuming. Droplets ran down your leg as you fucked yourself on that big cock. Your legs started to tremble, you pumped a little.

— My baby is so sensitive. — He continued thrusting into you while squeezing you, keeping you erect on top of him. Rafe let out a loud groan, throwing his head back.

You were both getting closer and closer to reaching a delicious orgasm. He held your cheeks tightly as his cock fucked you deep.

— Put it hard, make me cum. — You begged.

You were all limp, trying to find some sustenance as you were mounted on top of him. Rafe licked your neck as he forced his cock up inside you.

— Want to cum? Good girl. — He slapped one of your breasts, laughing like a perverted bastard.

Your pussy burned with the speed at which he touched your insides. He hit your pleasure point right on top of you and kept hitting it over and over again. You felt like you were going to explode.

— Hot slut. — He continued his movements, now moving his fingers against your clit.

— Oh baby, don’t stop. — Your hand slid down the car window, melting in pleasure.

A strong orgasm hit you both at the same time, Rafe pressed you against his chest as he came undone inside you, feeling your heat against his body as you came together.

— Fuck, baby. — He said, stopping his movements. Rafe gasped briefly, feeling his body exhausted.

— I can’t believe we did this here. — You said as you pulled out of him.

Rafe couldn’t help but laugh at your comments, but seconds ago you were fucking.

— This won’t be the only time I’ll get you in my car.

───ׂ─ִ────ׂ─ִ────ׂ─ִ────ׂ─ִ──

[tofics]

🫠🫠 Oh how the plot thickens!!!

Seems like nasty runs in the Miller genes here. (And I'm totally here for it.) Wonder what's gonna happen if Joel finds out Tommy's sick too...? 👀 If he is, of course. With how locked up Joel keeps her in the house, I wouldn't be surprised if her immune system simply isn't used to shit.

I also think you did a fantastic job of showing just how good exactly Joel is at blurring the lines between what's okay and what isn't. The never ending reminder that everything he does for (and to) her, he does out of love. And obviously, love is a good thing, right? So if it's done out of love, even if it hurts or is uncomfortable, surely it's still a good thing in the long run.

No wonder the reader's got a massive case of Stockholm Syndrome for dark Joel daddy.

But! We finally get a deeper glance at her emotional turmoil!

You’ve told Joel that before, that you feel used when he does things like this to you. He says he understands, but it’s not supposed to feel good. It’s a punishment. It’s discipline, and he disciplines you out of love. He loves you, pumpkin. 

!!! A+++ gaslighting on Joel's part. Oh, this feels uncomfortable? You don't like this? You're feeling exactly how you're supposed to under normal circumstances? But baby, don't you know, I'm doing this for you. Out of love.

Not to mention that this notion immediately becomes reinforced when Joel notices that she was, in fact, telling the truth, and begins giving her a big fat portion of lovingly being doted on. You write it so well that even I am almost inclined to forget how bad his abuse is. I mean, look at him! Apologizing, making sure she's comfortable in PJ's and extra blankets, even allowing more screen time although he had lots to say about how bad it was for her just moments ago. Isn't he just the sweetest?

Again, hats off to you for capturing these two sides of Joel so well, perfectly demonstrating what a master manipulator Joel is.

And on top of that, the extremely fascinating moment where he realizes that oh shit, she was telling the truth and immediately regrets his punishment?!?! And doesn't just regret it, but begins tearing up over it!!! Like all the physical and mental bruises he's left on her previously are fine because they were justified in his mind, but now? Where he accidentally caused her harm in a moment where she didn't deserve it in his eyes? He's absolutely heartbroken. My god that's so fucked up. I love it.

Like, hell yeah, he'll leave you outside rotting with a broken leg for an extra day if it means you won't try escaping yet again, but God forbid he hurts you unintentionally. How fucked up you are, dark daddy Joel Miller.

Love love love love looooooved this chapter!!!! If you're still planning on turning this into a series where you show how this duo came to be, I think this chapter is a perfect indicator that you very much have what it takes to make the background story as dark and thrilling and exciting as it deserves to be. You are SO good at capturing all the awful and wonderful moments of their relationship, perfectly demonstrating how easily the good can cancel out the bad and how much of a mindfuck that can be.

Thank you for this!!! Once more, outstanding work! 🥰💓

Throat Coat

Joel doesn’t make your sore throat feel better, but he does make it worse.

Tags - smut, one shot, dark daddy!joel, rough blow job, facefucking, deep throating, cum swallowing, kissing, hitting/swatting, dubcon, daddy kink, dd/lg dynamics, thick n girthy (legal + unspecified) age gap, controlling!joel, Joel is all mean and grumpy and short with you, sexy comforting father figure!Joel, Joel feels guilty for hurting you and cries a little, so he babies you and you milk it just a little. you deserve it. hurt/comfort, dark fluff, non-graphic descriptions of illness (sore throat + strep), tommy makes an appearance...planting some seeds here... ;) 3.6k words A/N - heddo! if you're sick rn I’m hugging you. And if you’re not sick, you will be and I’ll hug you then too. Wash your fuckin' hands ya beautiful freaks

“Set the table f’me, pumpkin.”

Joel’s voice is low as he watches you slowly get up from where you sit on the couch, pausing in place to no-doubt roll your eyes before shuffling toward the kitchen. You don’t look right - you’re dragging your feet and your eyes are droopy, there’s a big pout on your lips. Shoulders are slouched forward like you’ve been carrying the weight of the world upon them. Brows knit in some kind of upset as you move lazily, and Joel’s jaw ticks as you let the cabinets slam shut instead of closing them gently, like he’s asked you to do. 

After setting the plates and the forks down at yours and Joel’s respective seats at the dinner table, you fill two glasses with water, bumping into Joel and splashing him as you move through the kitchen. “Hey - watch where you’re goin’, kid,” he gruffs, shaking his head as he bites his inner cheek in frustration. He narrows his eyes at the way you don’t say anything. There’s no sorry, no excuse me. Joel makes a note of this. “Gonna be one of those nights, huh,” he grumbles. 

You’re sulking in your chair now, making no effort to even glance at Joel as he brings the hot dishes to the table. Arms crossed, eyes fixed on the wood grain. Joel serves you first, a large helping of green beans and potatoes, an even larger helping of chicken. “I can already tell just by lookin’ at ya that you ain’t eaten enough protein today,” he grumbles, eyeing you. “Gonna be a peach for me, aren’t ya?”

“Mm,” you hum, the noncommittal noise dripping with defiance. You hate when he reads you like this. His unique ability to pinpoint your mood or your attitude, your state of being. Uncovering the things you seek to hide. Joel knows you better than you know yourself in some ways, and it’s as infuriating as it is validating at times. He understands you, all of you, and he’s always there, filling in the gaps of what you don’t tell him. You can’t get anything past Joel.

Joel serves himself next and begins eating, shoveling bite after bite into his mouth. He’d worked up quite a fierce appetite today, spending his time shoveling snow and doing other arduous housework while you sneakily evaded your own chores. You poke a little at your food with your fork, scraping the metal along the porcelain while ultimately deciding that you don’t want to eat. You push your plate away and lay your head down in your arms on the table. 

Joel’s hand lands firmly on your bicep. “Nuh-uh. You sit up at the table. What’s the matter with you?”

You groan as you reluctantly pull your body up, head throbbing with the action like a heartbeat. You can feel blood pumping in your face, a pressure behind your eyes and nose and forehead so awful you feel like your face could melt right off. “M’not hungry,” you grumble, voice thick with discomfort. 

“Oh, I don’t believe that for a second. Yes, you fuckin’ are,” Joel says, spearing a green bean with his fork. “I know you are, so don’t even try it. You’re gonna eat, ‘cause I already know what’s gonna happen: s’gonna be bedtime and you’re gonna be whinin’ ‘bout how your stomach hurts ‘cause you didn’t eat enough at dinner and who’s gonna have to fix you somethin’?”

“No one,” you mutter.

“Me,” Joel corrects, without missing a beat as he shoots you a warning glare. “Now you get to it. An’ I wantcha eatin’ everything that’s green on that plate, do you understand me?”

“Fine,” you sigh, dragging your plate back towards you. You pick up your fork but instead of actually eating, you just maneuver the food around on the plate a little. The green beans are cut into smaller bites, potatoes shoveled into a neat little pile. The occasional scraping sound your fork makes against the porcelain makes you wince, but you ignore it. Just killing time. 

Joel serves himself a second plate of food, fork hovering over his plate when he pauses and notices that you’ve still not touched yours. “What’d I tell you? Or are ya waitin’ to eat it cold?”

You shrug, earning another cold look from Joel. He doesn’t like when you waste your food, and his patience is wearing thin. “I just don’t feel so good,” you tell him, sniffling softly. Your throat’s been scratchy all day, and you can’t breathe too well. You feel awful. 

Joel drops his fork and leans forward, chair creaking with his shifting weight. He presses a calloused hand against your forehead, and the added pressure actually soothes your throbbing pain, just for a moment. His fingers travel down your face and with practiced ease, he presses two fingers just under your jaw, feeling your lymph nodes. “Feel fine t’me,” he says, pulling back.

Not the response you were looking for. “Daddy…” you whine, elongating the word in a bid for his sympathy.

“Mhm,” Joel hums, a knowing lilt to his tone. You claim to be sick a lot when you’re simply dehydrated or attempting to get out of something. “Heard this one before,” he says, leaning back in his chair, arms crossing over his broad chest. “You’re not pullin’ one over on me. I know you, pumpkin.”

“I’m serious,” you argue.

“So am I. Drink your water f’ya feel so bad. That’s your problem, sweetheart, you’re never drinkin’ enough water. I tell ya a hundred times a day to hydrate yourself.”

“B-”

“M’not havin’ this argument,” Joel cuts in, voice firm. He’s right, too. Nine times out of ten you’re poorly hydrated, which is usually the reason for when you feel like crap. Dehydration is certainly playing a role today, too, as much as you hate to admit it. “Drink.” He snaps and points to your glass, watching how you roll your eyes as you take it, just to needle him a little. “And adjust that fuckin’ attitude a’ yours, ‘fore I adjust it for you. S’that what you want?” 

“No,” you mumble into your glass. You drink about half the water, then set the glass down and stare at Joel pointedly. 

“Keep goin’. Drink it all, kiddo,” Joel urges gently, taking himself down a notch as his voice loses its edge. You obey him, finishing the glass. “Good girl.” You smile a little, just a momentary little curve of your lips. The praise feels good. For as stern as he can be, Joel is quick to let go of anger. Patient, to a point. But not always. “Bet you’re feelin better already, aren’t ya?”

“No,” you whine, though Joel is right that the water helped. Can’t let him have the satisfaction of knowing that, though. “I still feel like shit.” 

“Watch the language,” Joel scolds, anger renewed. “Y’feel like shit ‘cause you’re runnin’ yourself ragged. You’re tired. Spendin’ too much time watchin’ that goddamn TV. And I know you’ve been sneakin’ down here to watch it after bedtime. Did it last night too, didn’t ya?”

“N-” 

“Don’t even try it,” Joel bites, his glare pinning you in place. A warning. 

“Yeah…I did,” you admit. He’s right again. “But I’m serious, Joel, I really don’t feel good.” 

“Tough,” he says, no sympathy in his tone. “Let it be a lesson to ya. Take care of yourself and you won’t feel so bad. Now you quit your cryin’, sit up straight, and eat your damn food, or so help me god I’ll shove somethin’ else down your throat of yours. S’your last warning,” he adds as he stares you down. Eyes still fixed on you, he raises his brow and points at you, “Don’t make this a bad night, now, pumpkin.” 

“You’re not f- you’re not listening,” you seethe, frustration bubbling over. You plant your elbows on the table and bury your head in your hands to stand your ground, refusing to back down. It’s his short temperedness to your stubbornness, your oppositional defiance. Things work out better for you when you listen to him, and you know this. But you can’t help yourself but to buck him anyway. Joel always tells you that he gives you an inch and you take a mile. 

“Oh, s’that’s how we’re doin’ this?” Joel snaps, and you’re in for it now. “Fine.” He grabs you by the forearm in a bruising grip and yanks you out of your chair, forcing you over the table. “Go ‘head, keep fuckin’ testing. Watch what happens.” He pulls down your pants and panties unceremoniously, giving you less than a moment’s notice before he smacks your ass, hard. His large hand on your head, pressing your face into the wood so hard that the pattern of the grain will be imprinted on your cheek. You cry out as he slaps your flesh, each hit worse than the last. He leaves you bruised and raw by the end of it, sniffling as the sting bites your skin. Usually he rubs you to soothe the ache... 

…But not tonight. Tonight, Joel pushes you to the ground, knees scraping on the hardwood floor as he drags you where he wants you. Eyes wide, mouth open as your bottom lip wobbles. Joel palms his growing erection, momentarily massaging himself over his jeans before unbuckling his belt. He tosses it on the ground, that metallic clanging sound piercing your ears. He unzips his jeans next and pushes them just enough down his thighs to free his cock, fully hardened now. He holds it menacingly between his thumb and his first two fingers, heavy balls sitting above the waistband of his boxers. 

Joel reaches forward and tangles a hand in your hair, looping his fingers around the strands to pull them tight. “Open,” he barks. You part your lips a little, and Joel fits the thick, blunt head of his cock between them. “That ain’t enough,” he says, slapping the tip against your bottom lip. “Wider. Don’t make me repeat myself.”

After you open your mouth wider for him, Joel begins sliding himself down your throat. He’s met with a little resistance as you pull back, wrapping your hand around the base of him in attempt to temper the force of which he fucks your mouth with. Joel slaps your cheek, “Don’t,” he warns, and pulls your hand away.

He forces himself down your throat entirely, the hand on the back of your head keeping you still even as you gag and choke on his cock. You’re panicked, pulling back but Joel holds you firmly, unwavering in his strength. “Stay,” he says. “You’re fine. Breathe through your nose.”

You open your jaw and your throat, surrendering to it as Joel begins fucking your mouth, drawing in and out of your mouth inch by inch. Tensing up makes it worse, makes it hit you harder. He tastes salty today, smells headier than usual. His graying patch of pubic hair scratches your nose, and if he fucks your face any harsher it’ll rub your skin raw.

Joel grunts loudly, growling your name and a series of words that he doesn’t let you say. None of it feels pleasant for you, not that you can vocalize that. His cock’s down your throat, further irritating what’s already scratchy and sore. You feel so…used. 

You’ve told Joel that before, that you feel used when he does things like this to you. He says he understands, but it’s not supposed to feel good. It’s a punishment. It’s discipline, and he disciplines you out of love. He loves you, pumpkin. 

Joel fucks your mouth with abandon, and you can’t control those choking, gurgling noises you make. Drooling all down his shaft, down his balls. Your eyes start to water before you cry freely, not that Joel cares. “Cry all ya want,” he grunts, and you whine in discomfort. Joel ignores that.

You have to hold his twitching, meaty thighs for stability as he moves your head back and forth on his cock repeatedly, clutching him tightly. Your jaw aches with the ferocity of how he moves, ferocity that borders on violence. 

“Look at me,” Joel pants. “Look at Daddy.” 

He strokes your cheek tenderly for a moment, a brief reminder that he loves you, even if it hurts sometimes. Still fucking your face, Joel reaches between his legs and cups his balls, squeezing them a little as your throat pulses around his length, tongue massaging that thick vein that climbs the underside of his cock. “Almost there, pumpkin. Be good for Daddy. Stay like that,” he groans, signaling release is near. 

You whimper as his cock twitches in your mouth, and with a few more hard, deep thrusts, Joel feels that warm, sticky feeling. His balls tighten, his muscles tense and release as he lets out a deep, guttural groan, pulling out of your throat to paint your tongue in his come. “Swallow it,” he instructs softly, pulling back the rest of the way. A bit of come spills down your lips and onto your chin. 

Joel’s chest heaves with heavy breaths, watching you swallow his load. Your cheeks are hot and sweaty, hairline damp with glittering sweat. Joel drops to his knees then, joints cracking while sinking to your level. He pushes his stray come past your swollen lips, “Lemme see,” he says. “Show me that tongue, pumpkin.” 

It’s routine. You always take what Joel gives you, always. You open your mouth and stick your tongue out, and that’s when Joel sees it. The angry redness, the swollenn tissue, the white sores on the back of your throat. His breath catches, a quiet gasp escaping him as his face softens in an instant. He whispers, voice thick with guilt, “Oh shit, kid. Fuck. You weren’t lyin’.”

“Told you, Daddy,” you reply, feeling both hurt and validated.

Joel nods, clenching his jaw as regret floods his face. “Yeah, you did,” he murmurs, guilt filling every corner of his mind. You really did tell him, and you told him multiple times. “Did I make it worse?” he whispers, holding your face in both of his hands, rough thumbs caressing your skin as his eyes search yours. Hesitant to answer, you pull away from his gaze. 

“You can tell the truth,” he urges, and his voice is both soft and insistent. “You won’t be in trouble. Cross my heart, baby girl.” 

You pause. Finally, you admit it. “...Yes,” you whisper. 

Joel’s face crumples. “Daddy’s so sorry, kiddo.” His voice cracks. “I really am. I shoulda listened to ya. C’mere, pumpkin.” His hands fall to your shoulders before he pulls you into a tight hug, and it takes you no time at all to hug him back just as tightly. This is all you wanted - his warmth, his comfort. 

After holding you there on the kitchen floor for a while, Joel sniffles and presses kisses to the top of your head, one after another. “With me,” he says, and his voice sounds thick. He doesn’t let you see the tears he wipes away as he leads you to the upstairs bathroom. 

Joel sits you down gently on the lidded toilet, opens the bathroom vanity and pulls out an old Walgreens thermometer, the once-bright red paint all but worn off. He washes it with soap and hot water, then brings it to your mouth. “Open up,” he says, cradling your jaw tenderly in his hand. “Goes under your tongue.” 

You open your mouth and lift your tongue, wincing when Joel slides the thermometer into place. “Ow,” you whine. “You poked me.” 

“I apologize. Was an accident, baby,” Joel murmurs, adjusting the thermometer. “Close your mouth and keep it there a minute.” 

You wait in silence as the device takes your temperature, and it makes a quiet, rhythmic beep when it’s done. Joel pulls it from your mouth and squints, jaw dropping a little as he reads the tiny number on the tiny screen. “Shit,” he mumbles. “Lemme see your throat again.” You open your mouth wide for Joel, and he tilts your head back and faces you toward the light so he can better see, a worried furrow in his brow. “Mmm…m’wonderin’ f’ya don’t have strep throat,” he says with concern. “We’ll keep an eye on it, though. You tell me if you start to feel worse, okay?”

“Okay, Daddy.” 

Joel eyes you, wondering how you could’ve caught something like this under his watch, especially when he’s not been sick lately. “How’d you get sick, huh? Been sneakin’ outta the house? Got yourself a boyfriend you ain’t tellin’ me about?”

“No,” you insist, and Joel doesn’t fight you hard on it. It was mostly a joke anyway. 

“Maybe Uncle Tommy brought it in when he stopped over to check on ya the other night,” Joel says. And he might be right. You don’t have a secret boyfriend you’ve been kissing, but…

Uncle Tommy did visit not so long ago. Joel was on an overnight patrol shift and had felt nervous leaving you home alone, as he so often does. He’d asked Tommy to swing by to check up on you. 

It was late when he entered through the back door, walking in on you curled up on the couch, a romance novel in your hands. Joel says he knows what goes on in those books and doesn’t like you reading them. You gasped, “Fuck, Uncle Tommy!”

Tommy wore that disarming smile of his. “Language,” he chastised, with no real anger in his tone. You scrambled to get back upstairs, but Tommy waved his hand. “Ain’t gonna rat you out,” he said, taking a seat next to you. His eyes twinkled as they dropped to your book, “Whatcha reading?”

“Nothing.” You shrunk under his curious gaze.

“Mm-hmm,” he smirked, taking the book out of your hands to inspect the cover. “This certainly ain’t nothin’.”

“I know, but–”

“You’re not in trouble.” 

Tommy smiled kindly at you, dark eyes sparkling and warm. You’ve always found him handsome, handsome like Joel. Pretty in the same ways, age softening his features. You like his freckles, his long, black hair. 

“M’just checkin’ in. Don’t get to see enough of ya, you know that?”

“I guess,” you said quietly, looking down at the pages of your book. You always have a hard time looking at him. He’s so…something about him feels like trouble. He makes you breathe funny, but not in a bad way. Not always. 

Tommy tilted your face up then, ran the back of his knuckle across your cheekbone. “Whatcha shy for?” 

You didn’t know what to say. Tommy knew the truth and chuckled, kissed your cheek to make you even more bashful. “S’okay f’ya got a crush,” he whispered, tracing your lips. Tommy kissed you then, just a small one. Just to hear you gasp and feel you squirm, that little moan you let slip as he stole the breath right from your lungs. 

“I’m not supposed to–”

“I know, I know. You ain’t supposed to do this, not supposed to do that. Your daddy’s got you on a tight fuckin’ leash, sweetheart,” Tommy said, caressing the side of your face. “But I ain’t gonna tell your old man nothin’. An’ you don’t need’a tell him nothin’ either, hm? Joel doesn’t need to know everything that goes on with you, honey. S’okay to keep things secret, sometimes.”

-

“I still want you eatin’ something tonight,” Joel tells you, tucking the thermometer away. “I’ll heat up some soup. Will you have a couple of bites?” 

You shake your head, pouting. “But I already said I’m not hungry.” 

“I know,” Joel replies softly. “But ya gotta eat. Please, kiddo? Bet it’ll make your throat feel better. Do it for me, pumpkin.” Joel pokes your face a little, flutters his fingers around your neck and chin, tickling you. Teasing. It makes you giggle. 

“Stop!” you laugh, pushing his hand away. “Fine. I’ll eat.” 

“Attagirl,” Joel says. 

He tells you to get changed into pajamas and downstairs, to get comfortable on the couch. Put on whatever dumb, girly movie or show you want on the TV. You follow orders, and Joel meets you downstairs with extra pillows and blankets clutched under his armpits. He makes you nice and cozy, then heads for the kitchen to clean up and prepare you that soup, which’ll be lighter on your stomach and easier on your throat. It’s just a matter of heating it up, as it’s jarred and ready to eat. Simple veggies and broth. 

Joel sits next to you on the couch and feeds you a spoonful, your favorite bowl in his hands. You love the little pattern on it, chili peppers dancing on the porcelain. You wince upon taking the first bite, “Too hot,” you complain.

“Then I’ll blow on it.” 

Joel blows on each bite of soup as he feeds you, the warm broth soothing your burning throat and clearing up your sinuses. “Thank you.”

“One more bite,” he tells you. “Last one.”

“You said that last time.” 

Joel smiles. “Think I’d remember sayin’ somethin’ like that, pumpkin. One more, now.” You finish the last bite of soup, then roll your eyes when Joel gives you a new glass of water to drink. “I know. Your old man’s the worst, ain’t he?”

“He is,” you mumble, but you take the drink anyway. Joel seems pleased, happy. He tells you that you can stay up late tonight so long as you rest tomorrow, but you don’t make it past 8:30, asleep in his lap as he strokes your hair and listens to your rhythmic breathing. 

-

more of this joel here

i hope you liked! if you enjoyed, please leave me a comment or send an ask. your words keep me motivated to write. thank you <3

[dear-aubade]

Oh my good God your writing is absolutely fabulousssss 🤤 The way you write about Joel and his baby girl is sending me into orbit!!! Genuinely I cannot wait to read more of your work 😍 Do you think that you would ever do one where Joel comforts his baby if she got jealous? There’s a few different ways this could go but the idea of him comforting his sweet girl when she’s upset over something like seeing another woman in Jackson hit on him or something makes me think terrible, nsfw thoughts 😆🩷🎀

This was so fun to write, thank you for the ask anon! Hope you enjoy!

Pairing: Joel Miller x Reader

Summary: When you see a woman making a move on Joel and storm out in a flurry of tears, Joel realizes exactly how much he’s been neglecting his baby. He’s determined to make it up to you.

Notes: Smut, oral (f receiving), dom!joel, sub!reader, praise, nicknames (sweetheart, baby, babygirl, little girl, honey, darling, any fanfic-typical nickname Joel has for reader), jealous!reader, oblivious!joel (sorta), semi-public, implied age gap

You were fuming.

It was Tommy’s birthday and Maria had decided to invite the entire town of Jackson to the Tipsy Bison that night to celebrate. The bar was lively with the hum of chatter and small talk, the smell of whiskey and beer curling in the air, paper lanterns hung in a zig-zag pattern across the ceiling.

Normally you would have loved to go out like this. It gave you an excuse to dress up all pretty and do your makeup, maybe even get Joel to abandon his stone-faced stoic facade and go dancing with you after he’d had a couple drinks.

Except for the fact that the night had gotten off to a horrible start.

The past few weeks Joel had been busy. Very busy. Which you didn’t blame him for, of course—he was one of the town’s strongest working men and the people needed him to help with patrol. But recently a worker at the Bison had sprained his ankle and Seth had asked Joel to help cover him while he healed, which meant that now Joel was gone during the day for patrol and several nights during the week while he fixed barstools or whatever it was Seth had him working on.

The nights he actually was home, he usually went straight to bed with you after placing a kiss to your lips and gave a murmured, “Goodnight.” You couldn’t even remember the last time he’d touched you, really touched you.

And you knew that Joel was a good man, that the reason he was so exhausted all the time now was because he was doing work for the community.

It didn’t stop his girl from getting a little needy and missing him.

Tonight you had taken advantage of the outing. You’d made sure to do your makeup immaculately, with your lips glossed and eyes lined to make them look all doe-like and pretty, how Joel liked them. You’d curled your hair and pinned the top part of it back in a half-updo with a white satin bow. You’d even worn a new dress that you’d traded for a couple days before. It was baby pink, hugging your bust and waist before flaring out the smallest bit around your hips. The short hem paired with your white heels showed off your legs very nicely.

You’d thought that maybe if you put enough effort into your appearance tonight, Joel would want to touch you no matter how tired he was.

Unfortunately, so much self-grooming had caused you and Joel to be a little late, which meant rushing out the door and speed-walking over to the Bison so you two weren’t more tardy than you already were, which meant there wasn’t time for Joel to appreciate his princess in her pretty dress.

Now that you guys were here at the bar, he was hardly looking at you. His large hand was still holding yours so you wouldn’t get lost in the crowd, but he hadn’t even said anything about how you looked tonight. Did he even care? It made you want to whine and cry or stamp your little heeled foot against the floor until he paid attention to you.

But you didn’t. You wanted to be his good girl…and you didn’t want to ruin Tommy’s birthday, either, by making a scene.

Joel kept craning his neck around to look for his brother, and when he found Tommy and Maria standing at the bar, he guided you over with him with a hand on the small of your back.

“Joel!” Tommy exclaimed, expression bright as he embraced his brother—overly bright. It was clear he’d already had a few glasses.

Joel slapped Tommy on the back. “Happy Birthday.”

“Happy Birthday, Tommy,” you said softly right as Maria was thanking the both of you for coming.

“What did you get me?” Tommy asked his brother.

Joel grunted as he put his hand back on your waist. “Right to the point, aren’t you?”

“A book? A shirt? A razor? I’ve been needin’ a new one of those, mine broke just yesterday—“

“Boots,” Joel said. “Traded for ‘em last week. They’re back at the house.”

Tommy grinned. “Awe, now you’ve just ruined the surprise.”

Joel rolled his eyes. “Tommy—“

“Oh, that reminds me! There’s somethin’ I need to show you real quick.” Tommy turned to you. “Mind if I borrow him for a few?”

You frowned. “Well—“

Without waiting for a response Tommy dragged Joel away, heading for some unseen destination across the bar. You couldn’t tell where they were going from your position in the crowd. You tried not to wilt.

A moment later Maria handed you a drink. “You look nice,” she commented.

“At least someone noticed,” you grumbled, taking a sip. The alcohol burned your throat.

“Joel giving you trouble?”

You shrugged.

Maria waited for you to elaborate. When you didn’t, she pressed. “I was going to go sit with some friends over there.” She gestured to her right somewhere. “Want to join?”

You sighed, then shook your head. “I don’t think so. Thank you Maria, but I don’t want my mood to infect your guys’.”

“Well…alright. If you’re sure.” And with that, she left you to your own devices.

It had been hours. Or…maybe a half hour. Forty five minutes? You weren’t sure. Enough time for you to have made a home for yourself on one of the barstools with several now-empty liquor glasses in front of you.

And Joel still wasn’t back.

Your toes were starting to go numb in your tight shoes even just sitting there, so you huffed and got to your feet—you only swayed a little. You were determined to find Joel and make him dance with you.

You weaved in and out of the crowd as you searched. Where had Tommy taken Joel? Was it….this way? That way? You couldn’t think very clearly right now. How many glasses had you….?

You finally spotted the back of Joel’s head through the throng of partygoers. Your eyes lit up and you started to move in that direction, ready to tug on Joel’s hand and stand on your tiptoes for a kiss. Why had you even been upset again?

You squirmed between two people to move closer and—

There was a woman beside Joel. She had honey brown hair and keen, wise eyes. She was older than you—much older. Closer to Joel’s age. Her name was Sharon…Shannon…something?

You froze as she laughed at something someone said and put a hand on Joel’s arm.

Your eyes went wide and you didn’t know whether you wanted to scream or start crying. Joel suddenly turned his head and met your gaze.

Your body decided for you. Tears pooled on your lashes and you turned to duck out of the bar before you made even more of a fool of yourself.

The crisp, cool night air greeted you as you escaped the Tipsy Bison’s warmth. You sniffled and kept walking, not even really sure where you were going.

“Darlin’?” Joel’s voice reached you and you heard footsteps from behind.

You sped up.

But Joel was Joel, and so he quickly caught up to you with his long legs. “Baby, what’s wrong?”

“Not now, Joel.”

“Hey.” He grabbed you and turned you around, his grip gentle but firm. “Sweetheart, what happened?”

“Get offa me,” you protested, trying to push away.

“What’re you…” He paused. “Are you drunk?”

“No,” you whined. You broke out of his grip and kept walking, turning around the corner of the Bison and walking around the back of the building. “Leave me alone.”

“Baby.”

At his tone you stopped. Even though you were embarrassed and upset and didn’t want to see his face, a small part of you still wanted to be obedient.

He came around your front and lifted your chin so you were looking up at him. His stern gaze melted away and his eyes softened. “Honey, what’s wrong?”

Your bottom lip quivered. “What’s wrong?” You sniffled and took a step back. His hand fell away.

“What’s wrong is that you don’t pay attention to me anymore. You work all day and all night and it feels like you hardly have time for me now. I even got all dressed up tonight for you, wore a new dress and everything, a-and you didn’t say anything, didn’t even look—“

You blinked and more tears ran down your face. “And now I jus’ saw Sharon or Shannon or whoever that woman was flirting with you, and you didn’t do anything—”

You cut off as your face crumpled. You looked down, shivering from the cold.

“I know she’s older and…and probably smarter, and she—”

“Whoa, whoa, sweetheart.” Joel tenderly gripped your upper arms, ducking his head to try and get you to meet your gaze. “What…what are you thinkin’? You think she could ever compare to my babygirl?”

You opened your mouth to respond but he prattled on before you had the chance. “The moment she touched me I pulled away. I don’t know if you didn’t see or what, but…” He shook his head. “Baby, I only have eyes for you. You know that.”

He wiped your tears with his thumbs. “I’m sorry I haven’t been around more often. It’s just until Seth’s friend heals up that I’ll be gone. I should be out of bar duty by next week.”

“And what about tonight?” you whined.

At that, Joel smiled. “You really think I didn’t notice how pretty you looked, sweet girl? I was trying not to get a hard on in the middle of Tommy’s party.”

You almost smiled. Almost. But you were still mad about Shannon, and you still felt needy and lonely and you were pretty sure you were way more than tipsy and you still kind of felt like punching Joel in his handsome face a little bit.

He leaned down to press a kiss to your forehead. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “So sorry that I made my baby feel alone….and needy…and neglected…” He punctuated each word with a kiss to a different part of your face—your cheek, your nose, your lips.

Now that you were alone, Joel’s eyes roved over your body shamelessly. “Look at you….” he cooed. “So beautiful.” His hands fell to your waist. “And this pretty new dress.” His eyes looked lower, down to your feet, and he grinned. “Your shoes match your bow. You said you dressed up just for me?”

You sniffed and nodded. “M’still a little mad at you.”

“I know, pretty girl.” He kissed your jaw. “Why don’t you let me make it up to you?”

That sobered you up real quick. “Wh….here?”

“Why not?” Joel pressed your back to the wall of the building. “No one’s around.”

“But someone could—”

“Shhh.” He kissed lower this time, at the skin beneath your jaw. “Here’s what’s going to happen.” He pressed a kiss lower. “I’m going to make my little girl feel good right here and now so she doesn’t have to wait another minute.” Another kiss. “After that I’m gonna carry her back to our bed….” Another. “And there I’m gonna make love to her until she gets absolutely sick of it.”

You squirmed as his beard dragged along your skin the lower and lower he kissed, lips now at your collarbone. “I-I don’t know if I’d ever get sick of it….”

He nipped at your skin and you gasped. “Then you had better have enough energy to be up all night, sweetheart.”

Joel kissed down the center of your clavicle, the middle of your breasts, down your tummy over your dress….soon he was kneeling before you, looking up to meet your gaze with those dark brown eyes of his.

“Joel—” you said, still a bit uncertain.

“Lean back against the wall, babygirl.”

You hesitated, but obeyed. Any complaints or protests you had against the situation dissolved as soon as Joel lifted one of your legs and pressed a kiss to the inside of your ankle.

His lips traveled upward. He kissed along your calf….the inside of your knee…your thigh….soon he pressed the skirt of your dress up to your waist.

He paused.

Then:

“Oh, sweetheart.” It was nearly a groan. His eyes flicked up to yours. “No panties?”

You smiled shyly. The truth was you’d forgotten almost entirely about that—it had been a quick last minute decision to forego wearing anything beneath your dress, but seeing his eyes dark with lust now….you definitely did not regret it.

“I’m a little glad I didn’t have time to look you over properly before coming here,” he murmured, lips skimming your hip bone. “If I knew you weren’t wearin’ anything under this we would have never left the house.”

You could feel his breath on your inner thigh now as he moved his head and you whimpered. “Joel.”

“Shhh, no whining honey, ‘less it’s about how good it feels.” He placed a kiss right above the patch of skin above your bud. “Just let that pretty head of yours empty—I’ll take care of you.”

Whatever you were about to say in response left your head as Joel hiked your leg over his shoulder and started to lick at your clit.

You gasped and one of your hands threaded through his salt and pepper curls to steady yourself. His tongue flicked against your swollen, needy button teasingly. Your lower belly simmered with the heat of crackling coals.

Joel’s large hand found purchase on your hip and he squeezed in response to each noise that escaped you. He was soon embracing you with his full mouth, tongue licking between your folds, at your bud, into you. It was as if he was everywhere, helping himself to your taste and enjoying every bit of it.

“Oh,” you sighed, pushing your hips into his mouth involuntarily and his head bobbed in time with his motions.

Each flick, each twist of his tongue had you nearly writhing, and you were pretty sure it was only Joel’s hand on your hip keeping you from collapsing.

“Joel, I—it’s—oh please, I can’t—” You were babbling mindlessly, head empty, unsure of what you were even really saying.

Joel just chuckled against you, the vibrations running through your core making you gasp.

“Such a pretty pussy,” he murmured as he sucked and licked at your wetness. “‘S like you were made for me—just keep rockin’ your hips—oh, good girl.”

He lapped at you as you let out a high-pitched whine. You were there, right there, with his nose nudging at your clit and his warm wet tongue pushing into you and he was shaking his head and oh—

You bit your knuckle to muffle your moan as you came, your folds drenched, your lower belly warm, your legs shaking, your clit tingling.

“That’s it, that’s it.” Joel kept murmuring praises as you came down from your high, hips squirming from oversensitivity.

He placed soft and slow kisses on your right hip before rising and gripping your waist. Your legs nearly buckled.

Joel chuckled and caught you as you stumbled a bit, sweeping you up in his arms, the ease in which he lifted you making your belly swoop.

He pressed his lips to your hairline in an achingly sweet kiss. “How’s my girl feeling now?”

You let out a happy hum and rested your head on his shoulder. “Better.”

“Good.” You could hear the smile in his voice as he started to walk, carrying you like you were a princess. You supposed that you were, in a sort of way. You were his.

“Don’t go fallin’ asleep yet, babygirl.”

You hadn’t even realized that you’d been drifting off until he had said something. It wasn’t your fault. The gentle sway of him walking with you had rocked you to sleep…

“Sorry.” You yawned.

“I’m the one who’s sorry, honey,” he said. He held you closer. “And you gotta stay awake with me. I got a lot more I wanna do to apologize to my princess.”

The low voice he used made your heart flutter.

You were in for a very long night.

[keeryhours]

taking it!

Gojo x female! reader

Masterlist

Gojo Masterlist

Warnings:

Smut (18+), porn no plot, p in v, breeding kink

Word Count: 759

A/N:

My first time writing for JJK! I hope you like it ❤️

“Ah, c’mon pretty girl, spread those legs f’me.”

Gojo has you spread out on his bed, completely naked, his cock already hard as he strokes it while looking down at you. You’re feeling shy, your legs closed despite how needy and wet he has you.

“‘toru…I’m nervous. You’re…”

Satoru places his hands on your knees, spreading them wide for his bright blue eyes to drink in. God, those eyes. He grips his cock again, tapping it against your soaking wet pussy.

“Big? C’mon, you can take it, baby. Look how wet you are f’me. It’ll slide right in.”

He was big. Huge, in fact. You’d never seen anyone as big as him. You weren’t a virgin, but it was still intimidating. “Okay…we can try. Just be gentle.”

Satoru smirks at you, pleased with your answer. He won’t show it, but he’s just as desperate for you as you are for him. He drags his cock through your folds, coating it in your slick. You gasp when you feel his cockhead at your entrance, and then he’s pushing inside.

You grip onto his strong shoulders, your eyes going wide at the intrusion. Your mouth falls open in a silent gasp, and Gojo is watching his cock disappear inside of you, the hottest thing he thinks he’s ever seen. His eyes dart up to your face, that same cocky smirk on his lips.

“Taking me so well already,” he praises. “Look at how your sweet pussy takes this dick. What were you nervous about, huh? You were made f’me.”

You whine at his words, body writhing beneath him. He sinks into you to the hilt, his hips pressed flush against your body. He groans loudly, the most delicious sound you’ve ever heard. He wastes no time in pulling back and thrusting back into you, setting a quick pace.

“Perfect little pussy - hah! - feels so fuckin’ good around me. So tight and hot and wet. Made f’me, baby, I’m telling you.”

His dirty words only make you more wet for him, and he notices immediately, that cocky smirk only growing as he pounds into you.

“‘toru…feels so good, ah!”

He has you bouncing back onto his cock with every thrust, fucking you stupid on his dick. Your mind goes hazy, unable to think of anything but the way he feels inside you.

“How about I breed that pretty pussy, huh? Would you like that?”

You can only whine in response, because yes, you would fucking love that. You want so desperately to be full of him, for him to fuck his seed so deep inside of you he gets you nice and full. You can tell he likes the idea, too.

“Oh, yeah? You like that, pretty girl? Wanna be full of me?”

You whine again, nodding frantically. “Please…”

“Please what, baby?”

“Please fuck your cum into me, ‘toru, please-“

He cuts you off by speeding up his thrusts, fucking into you hard and fast and ruthlessly. Your eyes roll back, little “Ah! Ah! Ah!”s spilling from your lips as you absolutely lose your mind on his cock. You’re exactly how he likes you, cockdrunk and desperate.

“Don’t worry that pretty little head, baby, I’m gonna give it to you. I’m gonna fill you up real nice.”

His hands grip bruises into your thighs and he fucks you at an otherworldly pace, his facial expression revealing just how weak he is for you, too, despite his cocky demeanor. He wants this just as bad as you do.

He reaches down and rubs your clit with his thumb, and it drives you wild. It’s only a minute later when your back is arching and you’re crying his name over and over - “‘toru! ‘toru! ‘toru!” as you come undone around him.

“Thaaat’s it, baby, show me just how good I make you feel. Fuck, I’m not far behind you, pretty girl, your pussy’s grippin’ the life outta me.”

All you can do is take what he gives you, your body weak and fucked out as he uses you to chase his own release. And you can tell he’s close, his muscles clenching, eyes falling closed before he catches himself, head falling forward as the pleasure wracks through his body.

He thrusts in hard one more time - “Fuck, take it! Take it all, baby, fuuuck, take every fucking drop.” - as he shoots his load deep inside of you, filling you up just as you wanted.

You sort of hoped it didn’t take this time so he could take you like this again and again.

[sinnabarmoth]

Tribute for the Dragon (17/18)

Pairing: Dragon|Sylus x Fem|Reader

Summary: You have been kidnapped and Sylus is on a warpath to get you back.

Content Warnings: Adult language. Graphic depictions of violence. Danger to pregnant woman.

Length: 2600

Chapters: (1) (2) (3) (4) (5) (6) (7) (8) (9) (10) (11) (12) (13) (14) (15) (16) (18)

Read on AO3

“Let me out of here!” you screamed. You thrashed against the restraints holding you down to the table your abductors had strapped you to.

You had failed to hide from them back at the mountain. You got a good stab in on one of them but then another one had slashed you in the leg. You couldn’t run after that. You still kicked and clawed and bit. You only stilled when one of them held a blade to your belly.

They tied your hands and carried you away. They wouldn’t answer any questions and in fact they gagged you at one point to get you to stop talking. But when you saw that you were crossing the border, pieces started falling into place. The man in the woodcrafter’s cottage, the reason you didn’t recognize him, was because he wasn’t from your village.

You heard them talking about how lucky they had been that you had finally been left alone. They had been stalking the mountain for months. Watching and waiting for Sylus to leave for long enough to come in and get you. Why they wanted you was still lost on you.

It had something to do with Sylus, that’s all you were sure of. You were the mate to a dragon. Whatever they wanted they were using you to get to it.

All you could think about was what Sylus was going to do when he returned home and found you missing. He’d be so worried. But he’d come for you. You knew that he would come for you and everyone that did would pay dearly.

You were not going to stand idly by though. If you could, you were going to get out of this fortress they brought you to.

You looked down at your belly and sighed. “Don’t worry, baby. It’s going to be alright. Your father is going to come help us.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that, my dear.” one of the men walked in. He was dressed in much finer clothes than any of the ruffians who had taken you. “You are far from your precious mountain and your dragon.”

“It won’t stop him. You all are going to die.”

“Only if he can find you and we are well hidden and well guarded.” he strutted over to you, staring down at you with his beady black eyes. “You see, this kingdom was doing well in the war until your dragon stepped in. Can you believe it? One dragon capable of decimating an army to the point that we were forced to retreat. It was horrifying and inspirational.

“We decided we would follow this half-man half-dragon hybrid. See if there were more of his kind, maybe some we could reason with and bring to our side. One of our scouts, Aaron, then came across an interesting tidbit of information while in your village. The dragon had a human bride. A mate. That changed things.”

“So what? You think you can ransom him to your side by kidnapping me?”

The man laughed. “We are not fools. Trying to tame a wild dragon, especially one that we angered? Oh no. No. If we want a dragon on our side, we need to make sure they are obedient. One that we can mould from the start to think like we do, want what we want, and do exactly as we say.” he ran a hand along your stomach. “That is where you come in, my dear.”

“No! You can’t take my baby!” you threw yourself against the restraints even harder but still you couldn’t break free.

“We can and we will. Our forces have retreated from your land for now but we will amass them once more. And though it will take time, we will have also been growing the perfect weapon. Your kingdom will be a great present for the next generation, and we will have this dragon in your belly to thank for it.”

“No! If you touch my child I swear on my life I will kill you.”

“You hardly have a say in the matter.” he went to the door and called someone in. It was another man, this one tall and thin, holding a bottle in his hands.

“What is this? What are you doing?”

“Just a little something that is supposed to help induce labor in women.” the tall man said. “We will have that baby out in no time. They will be taken away to a more secure location and raised there.”

Induce? “No!” you screamed, “You can’t! Please! I am begging you! I am not even close to my due date. If the child is born too soon there may be complications. They--they’ll be weak. They’ll be frail. They will be more susceptible to disease. You can’t do this!”

This made them pause. “She may be right, general.” the tall man said, “As much as it would serve us to move the child to a better location it may be in the best interest of growing our weapon to let them pass organically.”

“Hmph,” the general sneered. “It is a dragon, how could it be anything but strong?”

“Strong or not, it is still half human.” the tall man said, “We do not know what kind of state the child will be in.”

“Fine.” the general glared at you. “You are lucky this one time, never again. Be thankful for that.” With that they both left.

Someone came in a little later and undid the restraints holding you down. Your immediate reaction was to fight but the next second they had a knife to your throat. “We don’t need you, just the dragon. And we can cut it out of you whenever we want, risks be damned.”

Damn it all! They had you cornered for now. At least you could move around in the small room they locked you in. Once you were alone you held your stomach and took in a deep breath, trying in vain not to cry. “Don’t worry little one, your father is going to find us. This isn’t how this is going to end.”

You had to believe he was already on his way. You were scared of what may happen to you and your child if he didn’t find you in time.

~~~

Sylus was flying faster than he had ever been able to before. His senses sharper, his body stronger. He had a faint trail of your scent and he was following it as fast as he body could take him.

This body…this new body…

Sylus hadn’t even noticed what had happened at first. He had launched himself out of the mountain the moment he realized what had happened to you. The pain and fury had melted into his skin and all he could see was red. The longer he flew though, the more he noticed how different he felt.

It was then, little by little, he realized just how much he had changed. He was larger, heavier, everything felt uneven. His body moved in ways he wasn’t familiar with and the sensations he was feeling didn’t feel right. He didn’t feel the sweat on his skin or the tickle of his hair as he flew.

His body was gone. His human body had been destroyed in his anger and replaced with this new form. A dragon. The scales and armor that had covered only some of his body now grew all over. He was taller, longer, his arms and legs and even his head felt bigger. His jaws were wider and he could taste the burning embers of fire in the back of his throat.

Questions of if he had always been capable of this and whether he would be able to change back to his humanoid form were of no concern of his. All that mattered was that he was faster and he was stronger. He would be able to tear apart anyone and everyone who stood between him and you.

He followed your scent across the border of the kingdom. It was subtly getting stronger the further in he flew. How long ago had they taken you? Just how far had they gotten before Sylus realized you were gone? He didn’t want to think about it. Every second that he was away was another second that someone else had you.

Finally he came to a place that reeked of your scent. He could smell your fear leaking from every corner of this fortress.

The fire in his throat got hotter and his scream spewed forth with an eruption of fire that set fire to everything near it, including the line of soldiers who had been standing atop the wall. Alarms were immediately raised and Sylus could feel arrows being shot at him but they rebounded harmlessly off his armored body.

He flew over thrice more burning more and more of the people that had stolen you. Their screams of agony were cut short by their own deaths as they burned. The scent of sizzling meat and burning wood choked the air.

Sylus landed, stalking towards the fortress and shoving his way inside. Every enemy that dared to face him met a swift and brutal end as Sylus thrashed them with his tail, claws, and jaws. The halls of the fortress flooded with blood. Some of the smarter ones tried to run but Sylus refused to leave any survivors.

He would kill them all. He would kill everyone for daring to touch you!

He cornered two of the men in a room. One tried to fight, chagrin at Sylus with his sword drawn. Sylus swatted him down with his massive claws, the bloodsoaked talons crushing and impaling him.

“Help!” the man screamed, “Help me Aaron--”

Sylus chomped down on his head, his skull cracking as easily as an egg in Sylus jaws.

The other man stood cowering, weapon in hand but forgotten. Instead plastered to the wall staring in horror as his comrade was decapitated in front of him.

“You…” Sylus spoke for the first time since leaving the mountain. “You were there. I smelled your fear then too.”

“W-W-What?” the man stuttered in fear.

“The woodworker’s shop.” Sylus prowled closer. “My mate was buying a cradle and you were stinking up the room with your fear.”

“You--” the man’s eyes stared at Sylus in even more terror. “The dragon. But you were human, you can’t be--”

“Where is she?” Sylus snarled. “Where is my mate?”

“Down below. They’re keeping her in the cellars.” he dropped to his knees. “Please! I can take you to her! Just don’t kill me!”

“I know where she is now. I have no more use for you.”

“Mercy! Please!” the guard begged.

“Mercy?” Sylus snarled, prowling closer. “You came into my home. You hurt my mate. Kidnapped her and my child to this place. And you have the gall to beg for mercy?”

“Please! Please!” the guard pissed himself, tears and snot running down his face.

“You don’t deserve the mercy of a quick death.” Sylus clamped his jaws around the man’s leg and ripped it clean off from the knee down. The man screamed in pain as blood gushed from the wound. He spit out the leg and dug his claws down deep into his gut, shredding through the metal armor as easily as if it were paper. The man looked into Sylus’s molten red eyes. “All of you are going to die for what you’ve done.”

The man’s screams got quieter after Sylus left, either from distance or bloodloss it mattered not. Sylus knew where you were. He went to the cellars. More guards were there, some tried to fight, others to hide or run. None of them got past him. He could smell all of them. Their fear was everywhere, rivaled only by the oceans of blood that soaked these halls.

Finally, the smell of fear was gone and only blood and death remained. And you. It was hard to find over everything else but he knew your scent well. He caught it and followed it to a room. He pushed against the heavy locked door with his claws and it fell with an echoing thud.

And in the room was you and one last man who dared to hold a knife to your throat. “Stay right there beast!” the man shouted at him. “This is what you’ve come for, yes? Your pretty little mate?”

“Sylus!” you cried out. “I knew you’d come--”

“Shut it!” the man holding you snapped, pressing the blade closer to your neck.

“Release her now.” Sylus demanded. “I will not ask again.”

“You’re formidable, I will admit that. I knew you were. I saw how you decimated my troops in battle. But I had no idea you could do this.” the man was smiling. “It only makes what is growing in this woman that much more valuable. You are a thing of nightmares you are. You look as if you come straight from the hells.”

“That is where I am sending you.” Sylus pounced, charging forward.

The man was surprised enough, probably thinking that he had Sylus backed against a wall and wouldn’t have attacked if he was threatening you. Maybe he expected Sylus to make more threats or his arrogance probably made him think that he would be able to intimidate him into obeying. But Sylus was a man of his word. He said he would not ask again, and he did not.

You took the moment of confusion where the man stared in confusion and terror as Sylus charged to shove the knife away from your throat. Sylus’s silver horns rammed into the man’s guts, goring him to the hilt before tearing them back out, his guts still hanging from Sylus’s horns. He shook them off and watched as the light left the man’s eyes.

When he was dead and the world was still he turned to you. He was relieved you were alright but he was also terrified of your reaction. He was bathed in blood, had brutally murdered a man right before your eyes…

He didn’t want to see you scared of him.

“Sylus!” you flung your arms around his neck. You were so much smaller while he was in this form, your arms barely made it completely around him. “I knew it! I knew you’d come for me!”

Sylus took in a deep breath and he began to feel his body shift. The fire that had been burning inside him finally going out as he breathed you in. He was a man again, still covered in copious amounts of blood and his pants had been shredded to none existence when he took on his full dragon form but he did not care. You were in his arms again. You were safe. And you had not hesitated to embrace him again.

“My mate, my love,” he held you tight, “By the hells I was so worried. Are you alright? Is the baby okay? Did they hurt you?”

“I am fine. The baby is fine.” you placed his bloody hand over your stomach. “See? We’re safe.”

“Why did they take you?”

“They wanted our baby. They wanted to take them and turn them into their weapon. I told them they would all die if they tried.”

“That they did.” Sylus said, “And if the deaths of over a hundred guards in this supposedly impenetrable fortress is enough of a message, they will know not to so much as think about touching you or our child ever again.”

“Good. Now let’s go home.”

“Yes.” Sylus scooped you up into his arms. “Close your eyes. I do not wish for you to see the gore I left in my wake to get to you.”

You nodded, closing your eyes and tucking your head into his chest. His arms held you protectively, cradling you and your child as he waded through the blood and corpses back to the surface and out of this burning crypt.

[beef-brisket]

Watching his babies play with each other and their father, Adam was able to take a minute and focus on things. Really focus on them. Mainly, his changes.

Not just the changes to his body, which were surprisingly easy to get used to, but the changes around him. It was like he had a new sense.

He was able to smell Lucifer to breathe in his natural scent. It was like nothing he's smelt before. It wasn't unpleasant. In fact, wait was quite the opposite.

Taking a deep breath, he was able to smell his children. And how their fathers scent mixed eith theirs. Like a coating, almost. It felt protective and possessive.

Not only was he able to smell his mate and children, but it was like everything around him stood out so much more. Like he was able to perceive the very environment in a while different way. It was like a new language almost.

Raising his arm into the path of a sun beam, he rotated it to catch a glimpse of how his feathers shine. There were so many colours, some he couldn't even say he was familiar with.

But he couldn't help but wonder, why a bird? Shouldn't he look more like Lucifer? He couldn't fly, nor did he have many bird like attributes other than the claws and the feathers. And maybe the eyes. And... maybe the teeth. Weirdly enough.

Lucifer: Admiring yourself, pet? Can't say I blame you~.

Adam jumped. He hadn't even heard Lucifer approach, but he was always happy to see him. Turning around, Adam smiled down (yes, even being taller than his partner would take some getting used to) at his partner, and ran his hands over his neck, soon pulling him flush against his chest.

Adam: I don't think I've had the time to really look at myself. We've just been on the go and getting the babies ready... I feel like a mystery. I shouldn't worry how I look, as long as my babies still recognise me, and I can give you an even larger litter, I should he happy.

Lucifer: But...?

Adam: But, I can't help but worry that I look... hideous.

Lucifer gasped: Don't you dare say something like that about yourself, pet. You've always looked perfect, and especially now~. Besides, it wasn't just your heavenly good looks that drew me to you?

Adam tried to fight the blush that was quickly spreading, but he was failing: I-... what?

Lucifer: You're eyes~. Your personality~. How much of an absolute freak you are~. I love it all! And that means I love you~. So, don't go doubting yourself, Adam. I won't allow that!

Monster under the bed au where Lucifer is a monster and "terrorizing" Adam?

And by terrorizing, I mean fucking. Grossly. Disgustingly.

Complete monster porn.

Oh no, are my kinks coming out again? Oh well 😉

🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵

Don't tease me with a hot au lol

Oh, what if Adam bought a new house and that's when it starts?

[bunybunn]

Alright the drama continues and somehow it got worse. I'm glad I found a transcript of Dream's video on twitter (by @/NORsevvy here it is if anyone wants to read it) and I want to annalise it a little because I can.

Let's start with the part where he apologised for r-word and if you think about if he did that right after he posted that stupid meme we wouldn't have this drama but that wouldn't be his style.

What icked me immediately what the way he used Tubbo's stream as if through all of it he was agreeing with Dream. Especially since Tubbo actually shared very similar sentiment to Tommy when he talk about how, sure he does agree with the dumb jokes their friends group makes but he still stands by them. Besides using Tubbo as a gotcha didn't sit right with me because let's be honest as much as he is one of Tommy's best mates so is Jack and that guy wasn't as nice when it came to Dream.

After that Dreams moves to Tommy talking about Dream and his friend group being sexist and immediately he skips over the context, which in this case was the George situation and no matter how you saw it they way they talk about the situation by immediately downplaying the accusations didn't make them look good. To add to the irony we learned thanks to Ludwig that, yeah actually Dream did called two different women "whore" and only defended (and not apologise mind you) himself about one of those.

Something that I found interesting is how Dream has tendency to got on the sarcastic rants about "what if there were bad rumours/jokes about you Tommy" as if that was actual genuine argument. All of this only to then to hold the fact Tommy interacted with Dream's friends after the accusations. All of this to then pull the Logan Paul messages to prove how insincere Tommy is... As if it wasn't a case of him losing respect to content creator he looked up.

Another funny bit in my personal opinion is how he showed clip of Tommy say Dream was holding his help over his head and Dream immediately proceeded to do just that by pointing out how they called for hours talking about YouTube with no exceptions(!!! 😮😮😮) and how Tommy at the age of 16 was grateful for it. He is trying very hard to make it seems like the good guy but just by looking at the way he puts is as arguments why Tommy couldn't criticise him or express how Dream made him feel back then very much is giving holding his kindness over other people's head. What makes it worse is the way he takes Tommy owning the fact that he was one of the people who were behind the success of the dream smp because he was the one who started the idea of making stream that have roleplay and plot. Having Dream use it as another gotcha to call Tommy egoistic for it was very dishonest.

Then you have the merch part of the argument and I will be so real there is no argument that wouldn't make selling yours baby photos to fans sound fucking weird. Funny enough Tommy never mentioned Dream's merch company scamming people he simply shared an opinion that he thinks Dream's merch designs are lazy. Additionally notice how Dream took Tommy's words out of context as he was comparing his work on writing a book, doing standup the legit way not relying on his internet popularity and making a proper podcast to Dream just putting out simple standard merch and using very weird ideas to make profits from it. Tommy has been growing and trying new things which yeah I would say are bit more impressive then making the exact same type of videos for years. Perhaps that's why Dream didn't like the video where Tommy was talking about how Internet in fact got worse because that's the Internet Dream is enjoying being stuck in.

Dream still not getting that massaging someone's mom is crossing a boundar despite being told that that's the case by more then one person feels so dishonest especially when he is framing it as if every one are unreasonable... He brought fucking c!Dream reference to prove it and one more clip of younger Tommy praising him as if that somehow made his point more valid.

All that to say that what Tommy felt about the way Dream treated him and how he acted was somehow not as valid as Dream using his response to do a very similar thing. There was a lot of me, me, me in Dream's video without even acknowledging that perhaps he was making other people dislike him with his own actions.