#this happens all the time to me to be fair. like i start talking about one thing and then that leads to another and suddenly im not

[aurorawritestoescape]

BE MY GUEST

No outbreak Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: working as a hotel housekeeper, you meet a handsome guest under quite unexpected circumstances. An awkward conversation leads to a friendly relationship that grows into something none of you expects.

Tw: 18+ mdni, smut, lots of fluff, a bit of angst, age gap (the size is up to you, Joel is in his late 30s-early 40s, reader is younger), Sarah is alive (7 y.o), pining, strangers to friends to lovers, soft Joel, insecure reader, accidental flashing, praise kink, f!oral, unprotected piv, creampie, m/f masturbation, mutual masturbation, dirty talk, aftercare, phone/video sex, pet names, swearing. Joel can lift reader. Reader wears a uniform dress.

Word count: 12k

A/n: I’m finally posting this story and I’m sooo excited. It took me a lot of time, I love these two very much and I hope you all will like them, too. It’s written for @yxtkiwiyxt ‘s Never Have I Ever Challenge. My prompt was ’never have i ever booked a hotel room just to go have sex‘. Thank you for the fun event, Kiwi!💞 Kisses to @milla-frenchy for beta-ing and supporting me through the journey aka writing this fic lol ILY❤️ Dividers by @/saradika-graphics

MASTERLIST

“Housekeeping!” you announced yourself loudly when you came up to room 605. Following the protocol, you’d knocked three times before that, waited for two minutes and the silence was your invitation to enter. You rolled your housekeeping cart closer to the door and opened it with your master key.

When you walked through a short hall and into the living area, you expected to find anything. Having worked as a hotel housekeeper for only a year, you’d already seen your fair share of messy beds, spilled drinks, broken furniture, completely trashed rooms, so nothing could surprise you.

Nothing except for a man lying naked in bed with his cock out. Even a glance was enough to realize that he was busy stroking himself, a mobile phone in hand.

Everything happened lightning fast— you gasped, hands clasped over your mouth — the man cursed and hastily covered himself with a sheet — you squeaked a timid ’sorry’ and ran out of the room.

A string of curses was leaving your mouth as you were hurrying away from room 605, pushing the heavy cart in front of you.

***

Minutes later you were in the staff locker room, panting, sweaty palms pressed to your chest, your heart racing.

‘Why?’ You were asking yourself, ’why didn’t he hear you announce yourself and knock?’‘ First, you thought that he wanted you to see him— during your time working in the hotel you’d met a few creeps, but that man seemed genuinely shocked, when you appeared in his room, and embarrassed when your eyes landed on his exposed member.

He must have been wearing headphones. Probably. Hopefully. For some reason you didn’t want him to be a perv. He was too handsome, too hot. And his cock was… ahhh it was amazing— long and thick, fat tip angry red and glistening in the bright light of the sun. He must have been close to coming.

Your eyes were still widened, hands shaking, but your lips curved into a little smile, thinking about him, a heat rising in your belly. You started bringing any detail you could to mind - his dark disheveled hair - he’d probably just woken up, his naked chest, broad and strong, a happy trail on his tummy, the big hand, wrapped around his —

”Hey, babe!”

You jumped, scared to death, your heart, that was slowing down after the incident, was pounding again.

“Hi, Max,” you breathed out, greeting your colleague and friend who’d just entered the room. She was your age, funny, kind and extremely nosy.

You turned to the lockers, away from her, embarrassed by the tingling between your legs, but also worried that she’d notice your flustered face.

”What’s wrong?”

Fuck!

“Nothing,” you lied, trying to calm down. Silence filled the room. When you glanced back at Max, she was staring at you, her eyes narrowed. Obviously, she wasn’t buying it.

“Ok. I’ll tell you,” you sighed, reluctant to talk about it at first, but Max was always reliable and loyal so you thought ‘why the hell not’ and started talking, “Something happened.”

“Yeah?” She immediately lit up, anticipating something juicy.

“I was working on the 6th floor and I entered this room and — shit— I saw a man, you know, naked and —“

Max opened her mouth exaggeratingly wide and was waiting for you to go on.

“That man — he was ehm— watching something on his phone and —you know?”

You were trying to find the right words, but Max was not the one to beat around the bush.

“Jacking off?!”

“Shhh, Max!” you hissed, raising your hands, begging her to speak quieter with your pleading eyes. “What if Ms Hewitt hears?!”

“Ms Hewitt hears what?”

You wanted to drop dead at that moment. Your heart plummeted into your stomach when the housekeeping supervisor, a tall blond middle aged woman, appeared behind you.

“Ehm, nothing,” you replied with a fake smile.

Ms Hewitt looked you up and down as she always did, checking if everything was perfect in her staff’s attire, then her eyes focused on your face. Her piercing gaze was enough for you to crumble, especially when she said,

“Doesn’t sound like ‘nothing’.”

You had never been a good liar so you took a deep breath and decided to come clean. You were sure that you’d done nothing wrong but anxiety was still churning your stomach.

You cleared your throat and started talking a mile a minute as if it would make it sound less bad.

“I was on the 6th, was about to clean the 605, and I knocked three times, waited for two minutes. No one answered so I opened the door. I announced myself! I did everything by the book, I swear, but somehow the guest didn’t hear me and he was naked in bed and… and…”

Max’s high pitched ‘jacking off’ almost flew out of your mouth but you shut it just in time.

Miss Hewitt's poker face didn’t reveal anything for a few long seconds until she pushed,

”And?”

You shifted on your feet nervously, cleared your throat and exhaled,

“He was pleasuring himself.”

Max burst into giggles, you flinched and quickly made big eyes at her. She clamped her palm over her mouth and shook her head, apologising with her eyes.

Ms Hewitt was less entertained by your story. She kept looking at you with the same expression and you felt like time had stopped.

��Ms Harmon, don’t you have the 3rd floor today?“ the woman asked Max sternly.

Your friend mumbled a disappointed ‘yes, ma’am’ and dragged herself out of the room.

When you two were left alone, Ms Hewitt’s face softened, and she asked you with her voice lowered. “Was he inappropriate with you, honey?”

“Oh, no-no-no! No!” you hurried to assure her, “he was embarrassed— said sorry. I apologised too and ran out. It was just an accident. Maybe he was wearing headphones or something,” you added fumbling with your fingers. “I’m sure he didn’t want it to happen.”

The supervisor was slowly nodding, listening to you.

For a few moments she was standing there in thought until she spoke.

“I suppose you should talk to him and apologise.”

Your jaw hit the floor.

“What? Talk to him? Why? I did nothing wrong!”

“Yes, probably, but if he feels like you did, he might go to the manager and tell him that you committed an invasion of privacy. And what does Mr Stewart always say? ‘A guest is always right.’ You’d be fired in a second.”

You shook your head.

“I don’t think he’ll complain.”

“Why?” Ms Hewitt’s brows shot up. “Has seeing his penis given you an understanding of his whole personality? We don’t know that person. I don’t want you to lose your job over an accident. If you want I’ll go with you.”

Now you were completely terrified.

“Oh no, no, it’ll be even more awkward.”

“Ok, but tell me how it goes,” the woman said on her way to the door, then stopped and added. “Do it today.”

When she left, you plopped on the bench and stared at your palms. How could you talk to him? After what you’d seen. After what you’d felt. You hoped that he was the man you thought him to be and prayed he wouldn’t make it hard for you. Hard, you murmured and hid your smiling face behind your hands.

You knocked on Joel Miller’s hotel door a few hours later, making sure that the sound was loud enough. Your throat dried up and you cursed under your breath, praying that you wouldn’t have to talk for too long.

To prepare for the conversation l, you had asked for the guest’s name at the reception and learnt that he had booked the room for a week.

Mr Miller opened the door fully clothed this time. He was wearing a white tee and a pair of grey sweatpants. You noticed that he swallowed loudly when he saw you and his expression showed

that he definitely recognised you.

“Mr Miller, can we talk? It’ll take a few minutes.”

“Oh, of course, come in.” He gave you a little smile and stepped aside, letting you enter. You walked into the room and he followed you.

He stopped a few steps away, giving you enough personal space, and you were grateful— it was easier to talk that way.

You dropped your eyes to the floor at his bare feet and said the speech you’d rehearsed a hundred times by now.

”I’d like to apologise for what happened earlier. I assure you, it won’t happen again. I’ll knock harder and announce myself louder next time.”

“Oh no, no, it was my fault,” he said hurriedly and you looked up at the man. He was rubbing the back of his neck, his cheeks blushed. It seemed that he was embarrassed just like you and it made you feel better.

“I had an earbud in my right ear,” Mr Miller began explaining. “Noise cancelling.. damnit,” he mumbled under his breath. ”And my left ear is really bad…a work accident. That’s why I didn’t hear you.”

You were glad that your theory turned out to be right and sighed with relief.

“I’m so sorry, sweetheart. It must’ve been horrible to see…damn, I’m so sorry.”

“No, it’s ok.”

That ‘sweetheart’ made you tingle all over and you smiled to yourself, thinking that it wasn’t a horrible sight at all.

“It was an accident. I’m glad that you’re not angry at me, sir.”

“Angry? Of course, not. I’m embarrassed and very sorry for what you had to see and — wait, please.”

Mr Miller walked to the nightstand and bent over to grab something. Your eyes immediately slid from his broad muscular back, straining his tee, to his ass, looking absolutely sinful in those sweatpants. His body made you feel hot all over again. You quickly snapped your eyes back to his face when he turned to you.

"Oh no, Mr Miller, you don't have to—.”

You shook your head, having noticed a wallet in his hands.

"I insist.”

He walked up to you and pulled a few bills out. He stopped in front of you, leaned closer, took your hand and placed the cash into your palm.

"I'm really sorry."

You felt the warmth of his skin against yours, his smile was warm and timid, and it was a fleeting moment, but the time seemed to feeeze for you. You drowned in his honey eyes, his gruff voice reached the deepest parts of you and a scorching fire licked at your core. Your chest swelled with a feeling so overwhelming and strong that it almost knocked you off your feet.

Trying to hide the tornado inside you, you lowered your eyes and glanced at his hand, so big in comparison to yours. Suddenly, an image of Mr Miller's palm wrapped around his cock flashed in your mind. Your breath hitched, you pulled your hand away, squeaked "Thank you, sir” and rushed to the door on shaky legs.

“No, thank you for your work. And call me Joel. Please. If it’s ok with you,” he added, following you.

”Yes, of course, Mr M—- Joel.”

He smiled widely, when you called him that, and trying not to scream at how handsome he was, you opened the door.

“Oh,” you stopped and turned to him again. “I’ll ask them not to assign me to this floor anymore. So you don’t feel uncomfortable.”

“Hey, no, please.” Joel raised his hands and shook his head. “I don’t mind seeing you again. I— I’d love to, actually. And I promise to be clothed next time we meet.”

You laughed with him gleefully and said ‘goodbye’. Walking through the hallway with a giddy smile on your face, you thought that you’d love to see him again, too. Clothed or not.

You told Ms Hewitt about your conversation with Mr Miller and she seemed satisfied with the way you handled the situation.

All day you couldn’t stop thinking about Joel — he had been so charming, so apologetic and kind to you, that the awkwardness of the morning incident faded out of your heart, and all that remained was a bright, exciting feeling of meeting someone wonderful, someone you wished to get to know better.

Yet not only your heart and mind were occupied by your accidental acquaintance. You felt tingling between your legs every time you remembered Joel’s body, a scorching fire igniting your core.

***

When you came home in the evening and went to take a shower to wash the tiring day off, you found yourself fantasising about the guest in room 605. In your mind the rivulets of water turned into Joel’s strong arms, snaking around your body. You closed your eyes and imagined him standing behind you, naked and gorgeous, just like you’d seen him in the morning. The vision was bright and vivid behind your eyelids, and a needy moan escaped your parted lips.

You could finally quench your thirst. Your hand slid from your neck to your chest, down to your belly and when it reached your mound, you gently massaged your wet folds, envisioning that it was Joel touching you, his fingers were tracing your seam and then pushing inside. In your mind his pads began rubbing your hardened clit, he was the one twitching and pulling your pebbled nipples, and your needy whimpers and moans reverberated in the small bathroom. Joel praised you for your lustful serenade, whispering into your ear,

“Yes, sweetheart, need you to be loud for me. Show me how much you’re enjoying it.”

You were imagining his hard cock push and slide between your thighs, slippery and hot, hotter than the water running down your body.

“Ahhh, Joel,” you whined, as an upcoming climax was licking at your body. Edged by your memories of Joel during the day, it was craving a release. You heard Joel’s gruff ‘sweetheart’ in your ears and came hard, shaking on your trembling legs, holding onto the cold tile wall, trying not to collapse.

Before going to bed you thought of the handsome guest again, wishing to see him in your dreams, to talk to him, to touch him, but your mind didn’t give you that chance, and you fell into a dreamless sleep.

Without any effort on your part, you began seeing Joel often. When you two ran into each other in the hallway, he always gave you a warm smile and your heart skipped a beat every time you heard his ‘Mornin’, sweetheart.”

You were good at your job, but when you worked in Joel’s room, you tried to do everything perfectly. You wanted to make his stay as pleasant as possible and dreamed that he would think fondly of you. Every day you left him more shampoo and conditioner bottles than one man could need in a week and put a little flower on top of his fresh towels.

He seemingly felt your care because every day he would leave you a tip. It was nice but you never needed any money from him - the fact that he thought about you was enough.

You had never snooped around guests’ belongings, it was going against your principles, as well as a big no-no in any hotel, but whenever Joel left anything in the open - on the nightstand or on the desk, you meticulously studied ‘the thing’, not touching it but simply looking, eager to get any information about the man.

Once on his desk you saw a flyer that said ‘Small Business Contracting Expo’. He must be a contractor, you thought. You sighed dreamily, standing in the middle of his room with a turned on vacuum in hand. You found his job incredibly sexy.

But not all the discoveries were pleasant. One day you noticed something that upset you. It was a photo, lying on the nightstand - a Polaroid of him with a 6 or 7 year old girl. She was very pretty and had a beautiful smile. His smile.

‘He has a daughter. He’s married,’ you thought and your heart dropped. Of course. How could such a handsome and sweet man be single? That moment you shared… He was just friendly and your head was full of stupid fantasies.

All the rules and regulations forgotten, you plopped on his bed and tears flowed down your cheeks as you were staring at the photo of the happy family man.

The next day you were in the hallway, rummaging your cart for the right cleaning detergent, when you saw Joel exiting his room. He was wearing a leather jacket and a pair of dark blue jeans. At first, your eyes feasted on the sight of his strong back, straining the shiny leather, and you bit your lip, admiring his broad frame, but then you remembered the photo you’d seen on his nightstand - happy Joel with his little daughter. You hastily averted your eyes from the guest — you’d never be a homewrecker.

Not that you had any plans to win his heart but in your mind Joel had been single and it was fine to daydream about him, yet after seeing the Polaroid, your dreams had been crushed by reality like a glass butterfly by a hammer.

Avoiding Joel, you quickly crouched behind your cart, hoping he wouldn’t see you and his warm ‘sweetheart‘ wouldn’t cut your heart like a blade.

You were cleaning off a non-existent spot on your shoe when you heard a soft ���Hey there’ over your head.

“Are you hiding from me?” Joel chuckled as you sprung up on your feet, your heart racing in your chest.

“No,” you lied with a nervous giggle. “I was just looking for —ehm.” You shoved your hand into the cart and retreated the first thing you touched— a roll of toilet paper. “This. For the room.”

“Yeah, ok.” Joel was standing in front of you with his hands shoved in his jeans pocket, and his lopsided smile and a twinkle in his eye told you that he wasn’t buying it.

Then he raised his hands a little, palms towards you.

“I hope I don’t weird you out. You know? Because of… the way we met.”

Your breath hitched when he said that but you tried to keep your cool.

“No. I was really just looking for the paper.”

“Ok,” he mumbled, rubbing his scruffy beard. ”I’m heading out and I need help.”

“Yeah?” You were lost in beautiful eyes for a second and then your gaze slid down to his thick neck, his strong arms, covered by the leather. You locked eyes with him again - beautiful and deep they seemed to stare right into your soul, bringing you comfort and torment at the same time.

“What do you think?”

Fuck! You got completely mesmerized by Joel while he was talking and asked you for help. Help with what?! You had no damn idea.

“I’m sorry, could you say it again? I got lost in thought for a second.”

“Yeah, I see”, Joel smirked, a playful joy glinting in his irises, but kindly repeated himself.

“I need a gift for my daughter. I promised her a souvenir from the trip. Do you know any nice stores nearby? I don’t think she’d like a magnet from the hotel shop.”

“Yes, daughter,” you uttered, your face falling at the reminder of your discovery. Trying to hide sadness in your quiet voice, you asked,

“How old is she?”

“7.”

You thought for a few seconds and smiled when an idea came to you.

“There’s a store on the opposite side of the street. It’s next to a bank, you’ll see it right away. They sell these super cute handmade plushies. They’re adorable!”

Joel’s eyebrows shot up as he nodded.

“Yes! She loves plushies.”

“Oh, and they have all kinds of pretty stationery there too. Kids love that, right?” you asked with a little smile.

Joel took a step closer to you and put his warm palm over your hand, which was resting on the cart.

“Thank you so much, sweetheart. I’m sure I’ll be the world’s best dad when I get home.”

“I’m sure you already are,” you said quietly and dropped your head, your heart heavy.

“Are you ok?” You heard Joel’s lowered voice.

You looked up at him and lied.

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

***

The next day you hoped not to see him at all. Your feelings were cruelly scratching at your chest, making your smile fake, your work day longer. Every minute felt like hours, and to make matters worse you started plucking at your own soul. You were single and lonely, saving up for college and dreaming of a career you probably would never achieve. Why would you want something if all you got at the end was disappointment?

Usually cleaning helped you to put your mind and heart at ease, to organize the thoughts swirling in your head like a bunch of stinging bees, but not that day. That day you wanted to dump all your hopes and dreams in one giant pile and set the useless trash on fire.

***

You decided to skip Joel’s room that day and was on your way to the neighbouring one when his head popped out of the door and he called for you.

”I thought I heard your cart. Sorry, can we talk, sweetheart?”

You smiled weakly at the pet name, and walked up to his room.

Joel motioned for you to step inside and you followed him. He was wearing a white Henley and jeans and you couldn’t help but ogle him. So stupid of you to think that a man like that was available. Especially for you.

Involuntarily you took a deep breath of his scent that was filling the room, piney and fresh with something so him. You felt at ease right away. He was almost a stranger and an emptiness inside was swallowing you bit by bit but his presence made you calm and relaxed.

“Look what I got for Sarah.”

Joel grabbed a toy sitting on his pillow - a cute fluffy bunny, wearing blue overalls, and brought it to you.

“I think she’ll like him.”

“I’m sure she will,” you assured him, petting the plushie, before giving it back to him. It was soft and pretty.

“And I bought her a bunch of pens and stickers and stuff. Thank you so much for your advice. Oh, and..”

Joel walked to the drawer and pulled something out.

“This one’s for you. A little thank you gift for your help.”

He was handing you a cute plushie cat, fluffy just like the bunny. “Had to hide it in case you’d come to my room.”

“You didn’t have to,” you said, accepting the present with a smile.

“I wanted to. Thought about you when I saw it.”

“Why?” you giggled.

“I don’t know. It’s beautiful and you’re—.” A slight blush appeared on Joel’s cheeks and he cleared his throat before adding, “Jus’ thought you might like it.”

“I love it.”

You didn’t lie. His gesture was so sweet that you had to take a deep breath, fighting an urge to cry.

“You’re a great father, Joel,” you said with a shaky voice, your eyes set on the toy, and then added,

“And I’m sure a wonderful husband.”

The words escaped your mouth before you could stop them. It seemed that the despair you’d been carrying in your soul made you bolder, more numb. It was easier to talk to him when all your feelings for the man lost a taste of sweet hope, leaving only bitterness.

“Thank you,” Joel uttered, placing the bunny back on the bed, ”but it’s just me and Sarah.”

Your eyes snapped back at him, and you stared at him in surprise. Your chest swelled with hope and joy. That man was single, but now it sounded almost impossible in your head. How could he be single?

Joel was completely oblivious to a whirlwind of thoughts inside your mind and kept talking,

“Well… there’s also my younger brother, Tommy. She’s staying with him now. Frankly, I’m not sure who’s looking after who,” he chuckled, shaking his head.

You laughed, maybe a little too loudly and too happily, but it was hard to keep your emotions contained.

“I'm sure they’ll be fine,” you assured him.

“Yeah. I call them every day and they haven’t burnt the house down yet — so — it’s great.”

You giggled and Joel seemed to notice your sudden mood uplift. His eyes narrowed as he asked,

“What about you? Husband, boyfriend?”

You bit your lower lip, hiding a smile that would be too revealing of your feelings - his interest flattered you greatly.

“No, none of those.”

Joel hummed and unlike you, didn’t hide his smile.

Your eyes connected and something electric appeared between you two. It started hard to breathe and the tingling warmth spread all over your body. Joel’s gaze slid from your eyes to your lips and you took a sharp breath, scared of the strength of your feelings. Panicking, you blurted out the first thing that came to your mind,

“Where are you from?”

As if having forgotten where he was, Joel looked around the hotel room and cleared his throat before replying,

“Austin, Texas.”

You felt flustered by the moment you two had shared, your legs felt like they were made of cotton.

Joel noticed you shifting on your feet and offered you to sit down. You chose to take a chair at his desk, as sitting next to him on the bed could be inappropriate.

“Are you on business here?” you asked, trying not to think about the last time you had seen him on that bed.

“That’s right, ma’am,” Joel bowed his head with a smile and the gesture made your heart flutter. “Tommy and I are starting our own company,” he continued. “Contracting. Very small for now. There's a big expo here this week so we thought it’d be useful to meet people, do some networkin’.” Joel pinched the bridge of his nose and gruffed, “if that’s what it’s called. I’m still learning all the business lingo.”

In spite of the visible self-doubt, Joel’s eyes were glinting with excitement when he was talking about their plans. Then he leaned forward, placed his elbows on the knees, and asked,

“What about you? Do you like working here?”

His soft baritone was caressing your ears and sending heat to your core. His piercing eyes set on you weren’t helping either so you took a deep breath to calm down and replied,

“Yeah, it’s fine. I’m saving up to go to a law school. Next year I hope.”

As you were sharing your plans with him, Joel was listening to you attentively, nodding and asking questions from time to time. It was easy to open up to him and the conversation flowed smoothly until you heard someone talk in the hallway and remembered that you were supposed to be working.

“Oh my God, Joel, I’m sorry I need to go.”

You got up, pressing the plushie cat close to your chest, and headed to the door.

“I hope you're not gonna get in trouble because of me,” Joel said, following you. “Some old man lured you into his room…”

You opened the door and walked to your cart, giggling, and then turned to him, smiling widely.

“You’re not old. And you can lure me anywhere anytime.”

Joel scratched his bearded chin, a mischievous smile dancing on his lips.

“Goodbye, Joel,” you purred, and feeling bold, gave him a playful wink.

“See you, sweetheart.”

You felt his eyes on your back and - hopefully - on your ass as you sauntered to another room as gracefully as you could, pushing your cart forward with the cutest plushie cat, sitting on top of it.

***

It was difficult for you to fall asleep that night. You were tossing and turning, hugging the kitty Joel had gifted you and thinking about his smile, his eyes, his hands, his body, his voice. You kept replaying your conversation over and over, your face aching after smiling so much. You were used to the constant tingling between your legs when Joel was on your mind and it wasn’t surprising - he was a handsome man, big and strong, but what stole your sleep that night was the feeling in your stomach. Something warm filled your belly, it was pushing up against your lungs, stealing your breaths away again and again. The sensation was so encapsulating, so pleasant and exciting that you had no doubt what it was. You fell in love with Joel. You fell in love with a guest.

***

The next day you were assigned to a different floor, but your head was full of Joel Miller. You were yawning because of the lack of sleep the previous night and yearning for the culprit of your insomnia. You wondered if he thought about you, too, if he liked you, if he wanted you. An idea to visit him popped into your head but you brushed it off, not wanting to impose and still feeling a little insecure. What if the spark you felt was one sided? What if it all was only in your head?

You were scheduled to work on the sixth floor the next day, so you were looking forward to seeing him soon.

That day everything went wrong. You overslept, probably because you managed to close your eyes only at 4 am, love-induced insomnia to blame again. On top of that, the traffic was horrible, so you missed the morning briefing.

Ms Hewitt looked at you sternly when you came to her office to get your assignments for the day but your genuine apologies and sorry puppy eyes softened her and she gave you all the info you needed.

“Oh, and it’s final cleaning for the 605.”

“What?!” Your heart plummeted into your stomach when you heard the number of the room. Joel’s room.

Trying but absolutely failing to hide your shock you squeaked,

“He—they‘re checking out today?”

“Yes,” Ms Hewitt's puzzled expression told you that the panic in your eyes was evident. She put her hand on your shoulder and asked,

“Are you ok, sweetheart?”

Sweetheart

Sweetheart

Sweetheart

The pet name was ringing in your ears but it sounded like Joel. A scary thought flashed in your mind, ‘Will I ever hear it again?‘

”What time is it?” You exclaimed.

Ms Hewitt’s brows shot up, before she glanced at her watch.

“Ehm. 10:45.”

“Oh god! I need to go— to clean!”

You excused yourself hurriedly and ran to the elevator.

***

A minute later you were at room 605, knocking loudly. No reply. You didn’t stop, remembering Joel’s hearing problem, but there were no heavy footsteps of the man you so foolishly fell in love with. The realization pierced your heart - he was gone, he was gone forever.

Breaking all the rules you opened the door with your card and went inside.

“Joel!” you called, desperation loud in your voice.

He didn’t reply.

It felt empty, lifeless. Just another standard hotel room. The biggest sign that he had even been there was his scent, still lingering in the air.

You took a deep breath of him and tears welled up in your eyes. Your loud sob shuttered the deafening silence.

“Joel,” you mewled helplessly.

There was something on the bed. You walked there and saw a note with your name on it. You lifted it with shaky hands and started reading.

Sweetheart, I hope you’ll get this note. I couldn’t find you but I’d like to thank you for everything. Meeting you was a highlight of my trip. I hope all your dreams come true. And sorry again for the way we met. Joel

On the bed there was also a big tip and a bouquet of red roses.

Your chest swelled with a myriad of different emotions - it was nice of him to leave you a message and the flowers but it was a goodbye. A farewell forever.

A tear fell on the note in your hands. You wiped it off and smudged the writing, leaving a blue streak.

He wrote it not so long ago. What if you could still catch him?

You dropped the note and ran out of the room. Pressing the elevator button several times with a rushed hand, wiping your tears with the other, you were praying to all the gods to let you see him at least one more time, to hear his husky voice, to feel his warm eyes on you.

Joel—Joel—Joel

His name was booming in your head and your heart on your way downstairs.

On the first floor, not wanting to alarm the guests and other personnel, you walked fast to the reception.

“Birtie, hi, could you tell me when Joel Miller checked out? Please,” you asked the receptionist who furrowed his brows at you, having noticed your teary eyes.

You didn’t care about his concern, your gaze was glued to the entrance. Through the glass door you saw him.

Joel was standing outside, his back to you, his suitcase at his feet.

“Is everything ok?” You barely heard Bertie, your heart was making somersaults in your chest. He’s still here!

You took a deep breath, trying to calm down, but a wide smile wouldn’t leave your face as you hurried to your most precious guest.

***

“Joel?” you called softly, standing behind him.

He turned to you and his face lit up. All of a sudden he hugged you and you stopped breathing altogether. Feeling his body so close to yours made your head spin. To your dismay, Joel pulled away in a moment and took a step back.

“Fuck. Sorry. I thought you weren’t here today. But you’re and … I’m glad to see you.”

“I’m happy to see you, too,” you smiled at Joel, still feeling his strong arms around you. “I’ve just found your note and came here to say goodbye and— .”

“Yes?” Joel’s puppy eyes were darting between yours as you paused with your mouth open.

What now? Are you going to shake his hand and let him disappear from your life? The thought made you feel sick.

“There’s a problem. With your room. I’m afraid you have to go back up with me.”

Joel furrowed his brows, looking confused.

“What problem?”

Yeah, what problem?

“Ehm.. Can we talk in your room, sir?”

You added ’sir‘ to sound more formal so he wouldn’t think that you were making shit up.

“Of course. No problem. I have lots of time.”

Joel grabbed his suitcase and followed you inside.

You felt Bertie’s eyes on you as you were walking past the reception with the guest who had already checked out but you didn’t care.

When you stepped into the elevator, Joel turned to you.

“What’s wrong with the room, sweetheart? Tell me you didn’t get in trouble because of my note or the roses.”

“Oh, no,” you replied, nervously fumbling with your sleeve. “It’s— ehm—-it’s the hangers. Some are missing.”

“The hangers?”

“Yep.” You averted your eyes, feeling your heart in your throat. You could feel Joel’s confusion. Then you heard a low chuckle. Was he laughing at your stupid lie? You wouldn’t blame him.

“I didn’t steal the hangers, sweetheart,” he snickered, as you were walking to the room. “I promise.”

You felt bad about lying, but when you glanced at his smiley face, you couldn’t help but giggle along. Your excuse was ridiculous, but it was the first thing that came to your mind and, what was more important, it worked.

You opened the door and Joel and you entered the room. The room where you met. The room where you saw more than you were supposed to. Felt more than you were supposed to.

Joel left the suitcase at the door, followed you to the living area and stopped a few steps from you, as always giving you personal space. You didn’t want that space now. A few minutes ago you’d thought that you had lost him forever so you took a step closer to him, basking in the warmth his smile was giving you, his honey eyes mesmerizing you.

Joel followed your lead and inched closer, too. Now one tiny step was separating you two. He lowered his voice and asked, almost whispering,

“It’s not about the hangers, is it?”

You looked down at your hands and shook your head, nerves, excitement, love churning your stomach. You opened your mouth to talk but didn’t find any words. Why have you brought him here? What do you want? What do you want?

The answer to that question came like a flash. You were seeing it clearly then, fears and worries pushed into the corners of your mind, only your desire in the spotlight.

You took the final step towards him and pressed your lips to his. It was a soft little peck, timid and fleeting, but the feel of him flush to you, his warm lips, his heady scent drew you to kiss him again. Joel didn’t pull back but instead put his hands on your waist. His touch was gentle, careful but it set your whole body on fire. Feeling overwhelmed you broke the kiss and looked into his eyes.

You had just kissed Joel Miller. Your brain switched off completely as you were ogling his handsome face up close, his hot breath fanning your lips, the heat of his body seeping through your clothes.

“I wanted to say ‘goodbye’,” you lied, looking into Joel’s darkening eyes. You’d never want to say goodbye to that man.

“Do all the guests get a goodbye like that from you?” he asked as his lips curled into a smile.

You dropped your head and whispered ‘no’. Joel’s chest rose and fell heavily and his sigh tickled your nose.

“Am I special then?”

A shiver ran down your spine when you heard his question. You looked him right in the eye and your voice didn’t waver when you replied,

“Yes.”

Your boldness seemed to touch him deeply, his face lit up as if he’d just gotten the best compliment in his life. His reaction warmed your heart but your eyes still were puffy from the tears, the pain was still fresh in your chest.

“I was afraid you’d left forever. Thank you for the note but, frankly, I hoped you’d leave your number,” you said, sadness coating your words. Joel sighed again and his puppy eyes made your heart flutter.

“I did. In the first note. But then I threw it in the trash.”

“Why?” you mumbled, blinking at him in confusion.

Joel inched closer and took your face into his big warm hands.

“Because you’re young and beautiful,” he whispered, leaning down, and planted a soft kiss on your cheek.

“You have your whole life ahead of you.” – he kissed the corner of your eye,

“I’m a single dad.” — He kissed your nose, your other cheek, until his lips grazed yours for a fleeting moment.

Then he pulled away, his eyes glossy.

“And I live in another state. I didn’t have a right to leave you my number.”

Joel was still holding your face and it was heavenly but his words squeezed your throat with a tight grip.

“Why are you kissing me then?” you murmured, searching for the answer in his sparkling eyes.

Joel sighed again and croaked,

“’cause I can’t help it.”

That was when he kissed you. If your first kiss was like a soft breeze, a gentle caress to the skin, his was like an ocean, heady, overwhelming, you both drowning in it in seconds.

Joel’s arms bound you to him, your bodies flush against each other, and when he licked into your mouth, the taste of him made you dizzy, the ache between your legs grew and you bucked your hips against his thigh.

Joel growled, feeling your need, and your wet arousal leaked into your panties when you heard that he craved you, too. You broke the kiss and panted,

“When’s your flight?”

“In six hours.” Joel’s blown out eyes were darting between yours as he offered, “Can I spend this time with you?”

“Yes,” you replied immediately, having never been more sure about anything in your life.

Joel was beaming at you, his grin wide and happy. His hands were running up and down your arms as he mused,

“We can have a walk. Or we can stay here. What do you prefer?”

You dropped your head, contemplating your answer, and in a second you knew exactly what you wanted to do. You had about three hours to spend with the man of your dreams and you decided to use them to the fullest. There was no time to be shy.

“Can we stay here?” you asked quietly and Joel eagerly nodded.

“Yeah, sure, sweetheart. I’ll call the reception, see if I can have this room for today. Ok?”

“Yes! If it’s not booked, it shouldn't be a problem.”

Your belly was full of butterflies, your core was on fire, and it was hard to think straight, but suddenly you remembered that you had work to do.

While Joel was talking to Bertie, you pulled your phone out of your dress pocket and quickly texted Max.

Need to leave. Cover for me pls. I’ll explain later.

She sent you back an ‘ok’ just as Joel hung up.

Judging by his wide smile, the room was available.

“We can stay here.” He took your hand in his and you whispered a breathy ‘good’, already under the spell of his dark eyes.

He pulled you into his embrace and kissed you. His lips were moving gently against yours until they travelled lower to your neck, his moustache and beard deliciously tickling your skin. The sensation was intoxicating, your whole body was buzzing, craving him, your heart was beating fast.

You couldn’t wait any longer, your poor pussy was crying and begging for him, so you took his hand and led him to the bed.

“Thank you for the roses,” you purred, looking at the flowers, their crimson colour a bright contrast to the whiteness of the sheets. “They’re very beautiful.”

Joel barely glanced at the bouquet, he had eyes only for you.

“You’re beautiful, baby.”

***

A few kisses later you were making out, sitting on the edge of the bed, you’re on Joel’s lap, straddling his thighs, your arms wrapped around his thick neck. Joel’s hand was gently cupping the back of your head, the other, pressed to your lower back, keeping you close. You were softly whimpering into his mouth, your tongues tangled in a passionate dance.

“Ahh, Joel,” you moaned and began grinding your burning pussy against the big bulge in his jeans. Timidly at first, but the growing desire gave you courage to take what you wanted.

“I’m here,” Joel breathed out. “My needy girl.”

He broke the kiss and dropped his head down to watch your hips move, the hem of your uniform dress inching higher, exposing more and more of your tights-covered thighs.

“I need you too, sweetheart,” he confessed but then his hands left your hips and flew up to your face. He searched for your eyes and asked,

“You sure you want this? We can just kiss, baby. You don’t have to—“

“No, please, I want you,” you panted, surprising even yourself. You weren’t hiding your feelings anymore, you were begging him to give you more, to put down the fire burning you on the inside.

“Ok,” he nodded, his lips in a lopsided smile. “I needed to make sure.”

“I’ve never done this,” you mumbled, nervously chewing your lower lip. “Never been with a guest— like this.”

Joel brought his hand to your mouth and glided his thumb over your lip to stop you from hurting yourself.

“Me too, sweetheart. Never got a hotel room to —. He paused and you noticed a light blush painting his cheeks. Joel ran his hands down your neck and traced your neckline with his knuckles, lightly grazing your skin and sending chills down your spine.

“Can I undress you, baby?”

His voice was low and raspy, gorgeous and alluring, and you swallowed a moan when you heard his question. You replied with a sultry ‘yes’ and got off his lap.

Joel’s hands were gentle and slow. Standing behind you he unzipped your dress on your back, pulled it off your shoulders and helped you to step out of it. He slid the tights down and off your legs.

His fingers were gliding up and down your arms, his breath fanning your shoulder before he pressed his lips to the crease of your neck. You moaned, melting in his arms, turning into a puddle when his hand slid down your neck to your chest. You looked down and just then remembered what you were wearing that day- a simple flowery bra and unmatching black panties.

“Shit—,” you mumbled, your cheeks heating up. “Wish I was wearing something sexy. Lace or something…”

Your voice was small, your head downcast. Joel walked around you, took your chin between his fingers and gently lifted your face. A pair of dark-as-night eyes met you, there was a bright fire in them, a desire that echoed deeply in your own body.

”I don’t want ‘lacy’. I want you.”

He cupped your covered breast with his big hand and began kneading it. Even through the padding the sensation sent lightning of pleasure to your core, and you moaned shamelessly watching him caress your other breast.

Then his hands snaked behind you.

“Can I…?”

You uttered a needy ‘yeah’ and Joel unclasped your bra, letting it fall on the floor.

“Fuck,” he cursed under his breath, looking at your naked breasts, and you smiled, taking it as a compliment. ”You’re gorgeous.”

You were standing in front of him topless while he was still dressed. It was turning you on but you couldn’t wait to see him naked. Again.

“My turn,” you purred and grabbed the hem of his tee. You took it off him and ogled his golden skin, his toned shoulders, his muscular arms and a happy train on his soft tummy. Your hand impatiently flew to feel his broad chest, but having dreamed of it all week, you feared that he would disappear like a mirage.

“Joel,” you whispered his name like a spell, binding him to you at that moment, making it real in your mind, you and him there, exposed to each other, needing each other desperately, ready to dive into something beautiful and exciting.

You pressed your thighs together and a lustful shiver ran down your spine.

“C’mere, baby.” Joel probably thought that you were cold and caged you in his warm embrace. Your nose found its home in the crease of his neck, your heart close to his heart, your arms around his torso. It felt like his body was meant for you- to bring you comfort, to warm you up, to caress you, to make love to you.

You kissed his collar bone and Joel pressed his lips to the top of your head.

You two stood like that for a few moments, simply relishing the feel of each other's skin, sharing warmth of your bodies.

Then Joel’s hand slowly slithered down your back, covering your skin with a new set of goosebumps, and cupped your asscheek. He squeezed it gently and you moaned.

“Get on the bed, baby.”

He knew what you wanted, there was no uncertainty in his words, it sounded like a command, and you were happy to follow it.

You put the roses on the nightstand and climbed onto the soft bed. Your back against the pillows, you were watching Joel discard his jeans.

When he was only in his boxers, your jaw involuntarily dropped at the sight of his huge bulge. Apparently your memory wasn’t kind to him, because in your mind his cock was smaller. In reality he was hung like a god, and as handsome as one. A part of you got scared that he would split you in two, but the heady mixture of desire and love erased any doubts in your heart and head. You desperately needed him. Starved to have him inside you.

Joel lay down next to you and dived into your arms right away. As you were kissing, his hands were exploring your body, caressing your soft skin, gently squeezing your breasts, twitching your hardened nipples. You were hungrily feeling him too— with a soft drag of your nails down his arms and his back, with your fingers running through his silky curls. Your legs intertwined, you began rubbing your covered pussy against his hairy thigh.

“Joel— please,” you begged and with a fast hand he pulled your panties down. Now he could see all of you and you’d have probably got shy, but Joel’s eyes full of hunger and need, gave you the courage to throw your legs apart, to invite him to the most sacred place of your body.

”Jesus, sweetheart, you’re so wet,” Joel growled as his fingers were tracing your slicked up seam before pushing inside. With the pads of his two digits he drew a circle around your clit and you almost came, shuddering against the crispy sheets and his body. Joel noticed your reaction.

“Been needing it for some time, baby?”

“Yes, Joel, since the moment I saw you. Here, on this bed.”

You paused, scared that the memory of the incident would embarrass him, but Joel smirked, brought his lips to your ear and whispered,

“Did you like what you saw?”

You opened your mouth to reply but Joel made you gasp, when he slowly inserted his middle finger into your soft hole. He began thrusting it in and out, and you quickly turned into a moaning, dripping mess.

“I take it as a ’yes’”. His voice was strained with lust as his lips brushed against your cheek. “Did you think about me after that? About my hard cock?”

His soft husky voice, his words, his finger caressing something delicious inside you - everything at once was overwhelming and your eyes fluttered shut, your mind begging for any respite.

“Yeah, Joel, so— so much,” you slurred, unable to speak clearly.

“That’s my girl.”

Joel lightly nibbled on your earlobe, a satisfied growl rumbling in his chest, and then added another finger to penetrate your sopping heat.

Your moan was loud and shameless and Joel echoed you with a groan. His lips drew a path from your cheek, down your neck and soon he kissed your pebbled nipple. Your hand flew to his curls, legs opened up wider and your eyes rolled back, when he began sucking on your bud, while his fingers were opening your cunt up for his thick cock. Joel hummed at the taste of your skin and his low grunts made your pussy drool more around his digits. He parted from your tit and asked, breathing heavily with arousal,

“Tell me what you wanted me to do to you. When you thought about me, baby.”

“Wanted you —to fuck me.”

“Oh, baby. I thought about you, too. Fuck.. non stop, all these days.”

“Really?“ You panted, searching for his eyes.

“Yes, sweetheart. I thought— what if you’d stayed— would you wanna watch me?”

You bit your lip and purred,

“I would.”

Joel licked his smiling lips, his eyes blown out, and gave you a wink before saying,

“Anything for you, sweetheart.”.

Carefully, so as not to hurt your pussy with his fingers, he sat up and kneeled next to you on the bed, then using his free hand, the hand that wasn’t fucking you, he pulled down his boxers and let his stiff cock spring free. It was as gorgeous as you remembered, thick and long, curved up at the top, glistening in the sunlight, leaking rivers of precum.

“Now you can watch, sweetheart,” Joel groaned, wrapping his palm around his member with a sigh and beginning to jerk it.

You were watching him fuck his fist, while his fingers were fingering your wet pussy, until your plea interrupted your moaning.

“Can I do it? Please.”

“Yes, baby.”

Joel let go off his cock and your little hand immediately replaced his. You could barely circle your fingers around his girth but you applied all of yourself and began pumping his fat cock. Joel’s grunts were making your head spin. His pleasure was giving yours an ecstatic, exquisite, divine taste. You were revelling in the feeling of bringing ecstasy to him, your hand pulling up and down the soft skin stretched over the hot steel of his cock.

“Joel…what else did you think about? Tell me,” you moaned, tilting your hips up to give him more access to your crying pussy. His fingers were curling inside you and an upcoming climax overshadowed your shiness.

”Everyday I dreamed about pulling you close and kissing you, baby.”

“Just kissing?” you teased.

“Hngg, ‘course not. Wanted to tear your cute dress off, throw you on the bed and lick your little pussy.”

“Oh my god, Joel.”

“Then fuck you on every surface in here.”

His confession drew a needy whine out of your mouth and you began squeezing his fingers with your pulsating cunt. A hard orgasm was shaking your body, your pussy bursting with pleasure and wetness against his hand. You stopped jerking Joel off and just held his cock in your hand, too focused on the waves of euphoria rippling through you.

“Yeah, like that, baby,” Joel growled, watching you explode on his fingers. “Couldn’t stop thinking about you. So sweet and beautiful. I’d give anything to bounce you on my cock, to kiss your pretty tits.”

His mouth latched onto your breast, his tongue swirling around your nipple, his fingers were still massaging your g-spot, prolonging your orgasm.

When you relaxed and your hand fell off his cock onto the bed, Joel carefully pulled his drenched fingers out of your stretched hole.

“C’mere, sweetheart,” he whispered, taking you in his arms, and kissed you again, slowly and sensually, letting you rest in the warm ocean of his caress.

You were in heaven. Basking in the afterglow of the climax, relishing Joel’s embrace and his soft kisses, you couldn’t be happier.

He pulled away and looked into your hazy eyes.

“You ok?”

“Yes,” you murmured with a smile, tracing his handsome features with your gaze, mesmerized by him once again. Then you averted your eyes and bit your lip.

“What is it, baby?” Joel furrowed his brows and you heard a trace of worry in his tone.

You cupped his cheek and he melted against your touch.

“I want more, Joel. I need you inside me.”

Joel’s body shuddered at your words, his cock twitched, and you had no doubt that he desperately wanted it, too.

“I’ll give you anything you want, sweetheart. But— I don’t have condoms. Do you?”

You shook your head and hid your face in his neck, too shy to look at him, as you whispered.

“Can we do it without them? I’m clean, I promise.”

Joel stroked your head and kissed your temple.

“Me too, I haven’t had—, " he cleared his throat and continued, “had anyone for a while.”

“Ok.” You smiled, raising your eyes at him.

“Ok,” he echoed you.

***

You sat up and carefully straddled Joel’s thick thighs. His cock was engorged, crying and ready for you. But were you ready for it?

You swallowed loudly, fear noticeable in your expression, and Joel rubbed your thighs with his palms.

“We’ll go slowly, sweetheart. And.. if you’re not ready — I can kiss your pretty pussy instead.”

His words made you gush more, your head spun at the image of Joel’s lips on your cunt, but you shook your head with determination.

“No. I want you— want you to bounce me on your cock,” you quoted him with a timid smile and Joel half chuckled-half groaned. His cock twitched and you saw a drop of prefuck juice bead on the reddish slit.

“Baby, if you keep talking like this… I’m afraid I’ll come too soon.“

You playfully bit your lower lip, his words giving you much needed confidence. You felt desired, sexy and beautiful.

You got up on your knees and moved forward until you were hovering over his cock. It brushed against your folds and you impatiently gripped it at the base and glided his tip over your seam, before teasing your puffy clit with the bulbous head.

Your lustful whimper rang loudly in the room, fusing with Joel’s moan. Your palm planted on his hairy chest, you slid his tip down, and when it notched the source of your wetness, you began lowering your hips, slowly sinking on it. The sounds you both were making seemed like an epitome of pleasure, a beautiful melody of two bodies becoming one. They weren’t lewd, they were pure and sincere.

You seemed to lose an ability to talk or think, your whole being was overtaken by the feeling of Joel filling your core. The stretch sent shivers down your spine, but the dull pain got overshadowed by the bliss in your body. Joel’s palm was gripping your hip when the other slid up from your lower belly to your sternum, then to your chest until he surely could feel your heart, beating loudly in unison with your pussy, that was hungrily swallowing his length.

”Oh, baby, oh, yes,” was everything that Joel could muster when you took all of him. His eyes were dark with desire but the affection and warmth within them pulled you to him. You leaned down, lay down on his chest, uniting your heartbeats, and your lips met. Your eager tongues tangled with passion, your fingers ran through his curls, damp with sweat, his palms were exploring your body.

When Joel squeezed your asscheeks and gently lifted your hips up, you mewled, realizing what he wanted. Making out with him, you began slowly moving your hips up and down, your walls massaging his shaft, your mouth drinking his growls, that inevitably turned into moans. You smiled against his lips, happy to be giving Joel so much pleasure, but also getting an immense amount of it as well.

No one had ever made you feel so sexy in your life and the elation in your heart gave you the courage to break the kiss and sit up proudly on Joel’s cock, letting him see all of you again. With his mouth slightly open Joel looked completely drunk on you. His gaze slid over your body and he panted,

”Look at you, baby. Wish you could ride me like that every day till I die.”

You smiled and took his hand, that was kneading your breast, and kissed his palm. The next moment Joel sat up and you moaned at the position shift, feeling his cock even deeper inside you like that. He cupped the back of your head, and holding you close, kissed you hard. Your legs wrapped around his hips and you stilled, pierced by his member, melting in his arms.

His cock was thumping in your heat, your pussy was crying more and more around it, begging for a release.

“Joel,” you whined and, as if having read your mind, he grabbed your asscheeks in his strong hands and started lifting you up and down on his cock, moving your body easily, bringing you both closer to your peaks.

Your sensitive clit was deliciously rubbing against Joel’s hairy lower belly and soon you felt heat rise in your tightening core and your pussy started fluttering around Joel’s length.

“I’m coming,” you mewled and dug your nails into his broad shoulders, grounding yourself to him.

“That’s my girl,” Joel praised you, his eyes focused on your face, and then groaned through his teeth,

“Gonna come, too. Where d’you want me, baby?”

“Inside, please,” you begged, still trembling with the second orgasm.

“Yeah?” Joel grunted, “wanna be full of my hot cum?”

“Yes—yes—yes,” you chanted, bouncing on his cock, prolonging your pleasure.

“Yeah, sweetheart, I want it, too. Want your pussy wet with me for days.”

Pushed over the edge by the image and your walls gripping his member, Joel roared and began filling you up. You greedily milked him of every drop, pressing your body to his, burying your nose in his neck, relishing the scent of his heated skin.

Joel was jerking with every squirt of his load, holding you so tight that it was hard to breathe, but you’d have rather suffocated than left his arms at that moment.

***

“Thank you,” Joel murmured as you two were lying covered by the white sheets, face to face. Your legs were tangled, arms wrapped around each other, your nose against his neck. When you heard his soft voice, you raised your eyes at him.

“What for?”

“For being here with me. For letting me kiss you, touch you…”

His fingers glided over your arm and your skin erupted with goosebumps.

“You’ve done more than touching, sir,” you smirked and he groaned, pushing you over and pinning you to the bed with his body.

”Keep calling me ‘sir‘ and I’ll do it all again.“

“Promise?” you purred, feeling helpless, caged between the bed and his broad torso and your clit twitched again.

“Bad girl.”

Joel’s words reignited fire in your belly, but you felt like behind the playful banter there was something else that he wanted to tell you.

You cupped his cheek, your eyes darting between his, and whispered,

“I’m happy to be here with you.”

Joel sighed with a smile and leaned in to kiss you gently. Then he pressed his forehead to yours, his hot breath kissing your lips.

“What I wrote— in the note. You being the highlight of my trip— I meant it.”

A happy smile shone on your face, when you heard sincerity in his voice, warmth spreading inside your body. Joel lay down next to you and continued, his arm wrapped around your waist.

“I couldn’t stop thinking about you all these days— wanted you the moment I saw you but that’s not all. You’ve been so kind to me. So sweet. I haven’t felt cared for like that in a long time.”

“I was simply doing my job,” you uttered, drawing patterns on his hairy forearm.

“No, I mean, yes, but — every time I thought of you, I felt something — “

He paused, searching for words. You felt emotions in his voice and you took his hand and pressed it to your lips before whispering,

“I know, Joel. I felt it too.”

”Oh, baby,” Joel pulled you into his chest and you pecked his lips before your eyes locked and you said everything to each other without words, your hearts speaking for you. His warm gaze glossed over and your vision got blurry with your own feelings.

“Joel,” you mumbled, opening your eyes. You woke up from a wonderful dream, where you fell for a handsome guest, who later kissed you, made you see the brightest stars with his lips, his fingers and his cock, and then you fell asleep, cuddling with him.

Fortunately, it wasn’t a dream.

“I’m right here,“ you heard a soft baritone of the man next to you. You wrapped your arms around Joel and he gave you a gentle kiss.

“Had a bad dream, sweetheart?”

A tsunami of emotions flooded your heart - excitement, affection, joy stole your breath away. He was really there. He was really yours. At least for now.

“No,” you croaked, sleep heavy in your voice. “It was the best dream.” You crashed your lips against his, hunger for his caress waking up with you, but a sudden memory flashed in your mind - you had been given just a few hours to be together.

“How long have I been asleep?” Panic was loud in your voice.

“About an hour.”

“Oh no! You should’ve woken me up. We don’t have much time.”

Joel hugged you tightly.

“Shh, we have time, baby. You were sleeping like a little kitten next to me. I couldn’t miss the opportunity to stare at you like a creep.” You two laughed, your nerves seeping you out of your heart.

Joel kissed you and then began leaving open-mouth kisses over your neck, your exposed breasts and a few moments later you were dripping your juices onto the white sheets while he was licking and sucking on your sensitive nipples.

“Sweet thing,” he mumbled against your tits. “Can I have a real treat now?”

“What?” you slurred, already drunk on him.

“You pussy, baby, can I taste her?”

“Oh,” you moaned and nodded with a timid smile.

You had never been eaten out that well before. Joel’s hands were pinning your hips to the bed, holding you open for him as he was feasting on your blooming flower, his hot tongue lapping at your folds and your clit tirelessly. His mouth was gentle but he gave you enough pressure to make your pussy pulsate and explode on his tongue in a few minutes.

You were practically crying with euphoria when he climbed up the bed to let you lick your own nectar off his lips.

***

The rest of the time together you spent naked in bed, talking, laughing, eating the food you ordered to the room, kissing and cuddling. At the back of your mind you kept thinking about how lucky you were - to have met someone you clicked with spiritually, sexually and emotionally. There was no doubt in your heart that Joel was your person and he looked at you like you were his.

Inevitably the precious time ran out and Joel needed to leave for the airport. It took everything from you not to burst into tears, when you imagined saying ’goodbye’ to him, but the day you had shared, the pleasure he had given you, eased the pain in your soul.

When you two were talking and sharing your past, Joel kept mentioning your future. Your future together. He promised to introduce you to Tommy and Sarah, to take you to his favourite places in Austin, and in your dreams you saw yourself forever by his side, getting to hug and kiss him every single day for the rest of your life. It seemed like the most amazing fairy tale, and although you knew by now that life was far from perfect, his enamoured eyes, his gentle hands, his kind words gave you strength to let him go, because your heart was full of hope.

***

You covertly changed out of your uniform in the staff room and sneaked out of the hotel to take Joel to the airport in your car.

When you two arrived, you couldn’t hold your tears back anymore. Joel gently wiped them away with his thumbs but his own eyes were glossy and reddish.

“I’ll call you as soon as I land, sweetheart,” he promised, holding your face in his warm hands, then wrapped his arms around you and kissed you like no one else before, passionately, sensually, claiming you as his, and you stored the memory of his body against yours deep inside your mind.

Many phone and video calls later

The next time you saw Joel again, not on the screen of your phone or your laptop, not in your dreams or fantasies, but in person, in real life, was at the airport as well. Now in Texas.

You spotted Joel first. His honey eyes were searching for you in a sea of people, his expression serious and concentrated. You wanted to run and kiss that deep crease between his brows, wanted to drop your bags and scream with happiness, but then you saw what he had in his hands and your eyes welled up with tears.

He was holding a sign with your name on it. It was sweet, but what made you cry were glittery hearts and flowers, decorating it. Joel definitely wasn’t the type to use glitter and draw pretty hearts and you realized right away. that they were made by Sarah’s hand.

***

Joel introduced you to Sarah a week after he’d flown back to Austin. You fell in love with his daughter right away, she was a lively and funny girl, excellent at trolling her dad, the talent of hers which always made you giggle.

Quickly she became a usual participant of your daily video calls with Joel. You never minded it, falling deeper in love with Joel, when you witnessed what a great father he was. Sarah often told you about her day, asked about yours, and when she shared only with you who she liked at school, you were touched by her trust. Soon you three had breakfasts and dinners together, Joel and Sarah joining you on the screen of your laptop, and it felt like you were a little family.

At night when Sarah was asleep in her bedroom, Joel and you had other types of calls. You quickly realized that the man was a menace. He loved making you needy and desperate with his husky voice whispering filth into your ear. He would tell you in great detail how exactly he would fuck you if he was there in your bedroom. Like a good girl you would be spread for him on the bed, your legs open widely, your fingers thrusting in and out of your sopping hole. You whispered his name again and again, your hazy eyes glued to the screen, where Joel was stroking himself, deep in the pit of desire just like you.

You lost count how many times he came watching you fuck yourself, how many times you unraveled in front of his hungry eyes. It was enough for you two. For the time being.

But your feelings grew and soon you felt like you were suffocating without being able to touch him, kiss him. Joel tentatively asked if you wanted to visit them in Austin and you happily agreed. One night you two were planning your trip, when Joel admitted. that he didn’t want you just to visit.

“Sweetheart... what if we lived together?”

“It would be amazing,” you sighed, smiling at him through your phone screen.

“So why don’t we?”

You were staring at him in disbelief for a few seconds, your heart in your throat, before you asked,

“Are you sure?”

“Yes,” Joel replied and added, ”I love you, baby.”

His watery eyes told you that he wasn’t joking.

“I love you, too, Joel. So much,” you mumbled, already sobbing with happy tears.

***

It took you a month to quit your housekeeping job, sell the things you didn’t need anymore, pack the stuff you did, say ‘goodbye’ to your friends and family and take a big step towards your future. Future with the man you loved, the man who loved you.

***

Not being able to contain your excitement any longer, you dropped your baggage and ran to Joel, waiting for you at the airport. You were quietly squealing, trying not to alert the people around you, but when Joel noticed you and his face lit up with a widest grin, you finally screamed. He opened his big arms to you and you dived into his warm embrace. Your lips met in a fiery, long awaited kiss, and you didn’t care that people were staring at you two, making out like two horny teenagers, holding each other close. Joel was yours and you were his. Once your guest, now he was your home.

Thank you for reading! Please comment and reblog if you enjoyed the fic! Your feedback means the world💞

MASTERLIST

Tag list: @milla-frenchy @harriedandharassed @iamasaddie @nervousmumbling @bbyanarchist @stevie75 @puduvallee @auteurdelabre @mountainsandmayhem @senoratess @flamingochick55 @theoraekenslover @schnarfer @mermaidgirl30 @staywildflowahchild @yesjazzywazzylove-blog @evolnoomym @keylimebeag @joelmillerisapunk @pascaltesaye @fruityreads @itwasntimethatdidit40 @meetmeatyourworst @callmebyyournick-name

People who were interested in the wip posts (no pressure to read, bbs) @604to647 @tateypots @thundermartini @sawymredfox

[melsidlehands]

It’s been 83 years. 79 since I first learned to scramble eggs in a dusty nowhere town in Oklahoma. Mama taught me well, but she never taught me what would happen when it was all over. She came from a family of self-righteous southern Baptists, and that was just never my cup o’ joe, if you get me.

You know how they are; pot-lucks and pretending at being kind. Not all of them, but definitely the ones in Mama’s church. They told me Hades would get me someday, rebellious little hellion that I was. So when the food was packed up and sent home, I started the dishes every night. And at some point in my girlhood, I figured if Hades was going to have me, I’d make sure to leave a good impression. A silly thought; silly enough to be my own private running gag for seventy some-odd years. I’d go off to the side of the back porch with my stack of plates, just out of the beam of the porch light, and gently scrape my offerings into the shadows across the railing.

“I dedicate this to Hades,” I’d say. And dutifully clean each dish before carrying the stack back inside.

Now I never let on that I did this, not to my children or to my grandbabies; I just kept the joke to myself and let them figure themselves out on their own. But my eldest granddaughter, she was the one who shocked me. She told me she saw him. Hades.

Of course by that time I was old and jaded enough to say “That’s nice, dear,” and listen to her gush about some handsome fella she saw in her daydreams… but soon it wasn’t a daydream anymore. It was an obsession. Her drawings got more and more detailed, more lifelike.

I never told her to stop talking about her great loves, but she tapered off as teens do when they come of age. More important things take front and center.

And in no time at all, she was thirty.

And I was old.

Dying old is a soft thing. You fall asleep for longer and longer until you just don’t wake up again.

But when I opened my eyes, there was a boat waiting for me. Lucky me, I had died with some money to my name, so I paid the boatman’s fare and boarded the boat to find I wasn’t the sole passenger. My granddaughter’s drawings had been beautiful, but she still hadn’t done justice to the figure who met me on the boat.

He stood up to greet me. “Hello, Sidney.” His voice was as deep and smooth as Italian chocolate, his thick hair falling in boyish waves across his face.

“I’m sorry,” I said, “do I know you?”

He smiled. “I think you do.”

I swallowed. Should I have been scared? Probably. But hey, if I was already dead, then what did I have to lose? “You’re… Lord Hades. My granddaughter was all about you.”

He nodded. “Oh, yes. We’re still regularly in touch.”

“Did she ask you to come meet me? Or did those petty women from church damn me?”

“Neither.” It hit me then that he had a bit of an accent, which twisted his words around like he was holding a marble on his tongue. Then again, I can’t say much; I never did get rid of my accent.

He hummed at me and smiled. “You were quite the cook, Sidney. Every dinner for almost eighty years, you devoted to me. I suppose you could say… I was touched by your devotion.”

“No offense, but that comes as a bit of a shock.”

“That’s fair.” He shrugged. “I never had terribly many followers, let alone strict devotees.”

“So… what do you want from me?”

He stretched once, then sat down in the boat again and propped his elbows on his knees. “Well actually… I came to make you an offer.”

“Whatever for?” I asked, bewildered. “If I refuse, are you going to send me to Hell?”

His smile vanished. “Sidney,” he said sympathetically, “why would I do that? You were a good and kind person, and you raised your family and community with integrity. My offer is one of thanks, and you have no obligation to accept it if you don’t truly like the idea.”

I studied him for a moment. If it weren’t obvious that he was a god, he’d have looked like he was my granddaughter’s age. “Go ahead,” I said cautiously.

His slender smile returned. “How would you like to come and cook with the chefs in my kitchen? It would be a volunteer role; you would have plenty of time to rest, and you would make a living wage.”

“That sounds like an oxymoron… the dead making a living wage.”

Hades cackled and clapped his hands. His laugh rocked to boat a bit, and I was fortunate to keep my balance. Finally, his laughing slowed. “My offer stands. What do you think?”

I thought about it. “Well… I don’t know about Greek food…”

“I’m not concerned about that. Perhaps you can teach my chefs a thing or two about food that… what’s the phrase? ‘Sticks to your ribs?’”

I looked him up and down. If he turned sideways and stuck out his tongue, he’d look like a zipper. I harrumphed. “Did my baby ever tell you you’re too skinny?”

He nodded and rolled his eyes. “All the time.”

“Well then… I guess you could use a casserole or two.”

- in memory of my grandmother.

As a joke you had always said "I dedicate this to Hades" as you threw away food scraps from your cooking and cleaning your plates. When you die you find yourself in front of Charon's boat with Hades sitting in it, seemingly very excited to see his most devoted follower in recent times.

[writersmess]

FAMILY LINE | EVAN BUCKLEY

gif credit

pairing: Evan Buckley x fem!reader

summary: at the end, Buck was home.

warning: slow burn, cursing, abusive family

masterlist

................................

here you were, your first day all over again. but this time, all by yourself.

it was strange to enter a new station, different trucks, different layouts, even the smell was different. this feeling wasn't new, but it was the first time you weren't afraid of what might happen, on the opposite, you were eager to see what life had in store for you.

"you must be the new girl" a fireman caught your eye and snapped you out of your daydreams.

"that should be me" you replied with a smile, which he quickly returned. you followed him upstairs, where you found the whole house gathered around a table, having breakfast.

"Bobby, I've found a lost newbie for you" he winked at you and then sat down at the table with the others.

"I'm Bobby, the captain. welcome to 118."

"Where are you from, Strand?" Diaz. that was the name of the person who asked.

"New York" you replied in a few words.

"wow, that's awesome. I'm dying to visit there" a blue-eyed man commented with a huge smile on his lips and automatically your eyes ran to his lips. "maybe now that we have a guide, 118 could go and..."

"easy, Buck, you'll scare her off in the first few seconds at the station" Bobby said, making you laugh, and you could see Buck's cheeks redden.

while everyone bombarded you with questions about NY, and you tried your best to avoid questions about your family or your past, you could feel a pair of blue eyes staring at you the whole time. every now and then while you were answering someone, your eyes would catch on his smile, on how easily he laughed, on how comfortable he seemed around everyone. It seemed very easy to like Evan Buckley

*

you hated Evan Buckley.

a few months were enough to show how immature, irresponsible, sampled and... womanizer he was.

how could he just walk into the fire without permission, even though Bobby gave him specific orders not to? how could he date a different woman every week? I mean, it’s not your business, but still. how could he not appreciate all the people who cared about him and continue to show off all the damn time? you just couldn't deal with him. his silly jokes, his opened smile, his blue eyes... you just hated Evan Buckley.

"okay, hold on. why do you hate me so much?" he said to you when he noticed you rolling your eyes at something he was saying. everyone at the table turned to you and you felt your face redden.

"i don't hate you"

"but you certainly don't like him" Chim added and you rolled your eyes again.

"It's not like that-"

"you roll your eyes every time he speaks" it was Hen's turn. Jesus, were these people your friends?

"I-"

"and you get away from him every time he starts talking" Eddie added.

"ouch" Buck said hurt and you took control again.

"okay, fine" you started and all eyes were on you "I think it's ridiculous the way you don't care about the people around you" you let out and before he could reply you gathered all your courage to poured out the rest. "you have so many people who love you and care for you, and I get the feeling that you don't care about any of it. you go into the fire without caring if you'll come back, you don't respect Bobby's orders when he tells you to evacuate a building, and you're always trying to play the hero. but guess what, you're not a hero! you're Buck, a human who gets hurt, who one day might not make it out of a burning building, in fact, you've almost died more times than I can count. and you don't even care about that, you don't care about the fact that you have a sister who loves you and would be destroyed without you, that your friends would suffer without you, that Cristopher would be devastated without you, that Bobby would lose a son! I don't think that's fair, because you have this and don’t care, while there are people out there who don't have any of that, no one who cares if you're going to come home. I don't have that, and I-I..."

everyone was silent listening to you talk and you didn't notice that your eyes were full of tears. you tried to pull yourself together and when Bobby started to say something, you interrupted him.

"I'm sorry. none of this is any of my business."

the rest of the day sucked. everyone tried to talk to you about your outburst and you ran away from literally everyone, all the time. everyone except Buck, he was avoiding you too. you were feeling like shit. as soon as the shift was over, you got dressed and left as quickly as possible, thinking about the possibilities you had of crawling into the covers and never coming out again.

"hey" you jumped scared as you tried to open the door to your apartment and turned back frightened and trembling. "sorry, I didn't mean to scare you"

"I keep forgetting that you're my neighbor," you answered Buck with a sigh and he smiled.

"in my defense, I lived here long before you arrived" he was smiling. after everything you said to him earlier, he was smiling at you. you were an idiot.

"look-"

"I-" you started talking together and he signaled for you to speak.

"I'm sorry about earlier-"

"you don't have to-" he cut you off but you didn't let him finish either.

"yes Buck, I do have to apologize. it's absolutely not your fault that I'm frustrated, that I don't have anyone who cares about me the way you do. I was extremely selfish and childish, it's not your fault at all. I was upset and I took it out on you. I'm sorry."

"You know you were right" he replied "I'm irresponsible, I know that. I-I know that one day I might not come back from a call, and I know I'm not a hero, but if I die saving one life, that's enough for me."

that just broke you down more. you really were an idiot. Buck was just a man with the right motivations, but the wrong methods.

*

the day was strange, something was off. and it wasn't even the fact that you woke up vomiting your guts out. it was something... different. you went to work anyway, took some nausea pills and left.

"hey, you okay?" buck stopped you as you were leaving the bathroom after throwing up for the third time this morning and you nodded. you felt like crying.

"I'll be fine" you said, but your voice was far from confident and it was Buck's turn to roll his eyes at you.

"come on, let's get you some water." he led you upstairs and sat you down at the table. "Bobby taught me a recipe of a wonderful soup for days like these, you'll feel brand new" he said excitedly and you smiled.

"Buck, thanks but you don't have to"

things were still awkward between you, you still felt bad about the things you'd said and Buck still seemed to tread on eggshells around you, but when you were around each other, he never put you off or made you feel bad.

and you kind of hated Buck a little more because of it. he had every right to dislike you, but he never held any grudges against you, quite the opposite, he seemed to enjoy your presence. despite the situation between you.

"hey what's going on?" Eddie asked, coming into the kitchen.

"I-"

"she's not feeling well"

"who's not feeling well?" Hen asked worriedly, sitting down next to you, and you couldn't answer again as Buck pointed at you.

"I caught her throwing up just now" he replied and Hen turned worriedly to you.

"you're feverish and pale" she said, touching your face.

"who's sick?" Chim came up to you chewing a snack and everyone pointed at you.

"she was vomiting and has a fever. we can administer medication into her vein, for nausea and the fever"

"guys, I'll be fine. it's just food poisoning, I'll wake up better tomorrow" no one seemed to believe you and you laughed softly. was that the feeling of being looked after?

"Strand, I've got someone for you," Bobbie said coming up the stairs and when you turned, you couldn't have been more surprised to see who was there.

"dad?" your stomach churned, but you took a deep breath, you weren't going to throw up now.

everyone was looking at the scene curiously, you'd never spoken of your father before, or anything involving your past, apart from the little confession a few days ago when you'd shouted at Buck. but the atmosphere was tense, your eyes were wide and you took a few steps back, which didn't go unnoticed by Buck, who, when looked at Bobby, realized that the older man had noticed the same thing.

"hello daughter" Owen Strand had that stupid grin on his lips.

"what are you doing here?" you were nauseous, your head was spinning and your hands were shaking. this couldn't be happening.

"we've come to take you home" was when you noticed your brother standing next to your father. TK had that look of guilt, the same one you saw before you left them behind.

"maybe you should go to my office for some privacy" Bobby said as he noticed the mood in the room.

"no!" you were quick to say, too quick. Buck unconsciously approached you and the moment you felt his presence at your side, you moved closer. now it was clear to everyone that something was wrong. you were frightened. suddenly everyone assumed a defensive posture, aware of what was happening.

"sis, come on" it was TK's turn to speak and as he realized that you had taken another step back, you saw the look of pain flash across his eyes. you were afraid of him.

"okay, let's get this show over with and get out of here. I'm getting tired of you" Owen tried to grab your arm but before you could pull away, the boys moved faster. Buck and Eddie got in front of you while Bobby pulled Owen away.

"okay, let's calm down here, Captain."

Everyone finally realized that your father was wearing a firefighter's jacket. he was a fireman.

"calm down? you've got to be kidding me," he was losing control. "I want you to step aside and let me talk to my daughter," he pointed at the boys in front of him, but no one moved.

you touched Buck's arm in acceptance, and he moved slightly to the side, just enough for Owen to see you.

his ironic laugh echoed through the room and your heart heaved. this was your father, how could he do this to you, again?

"you have no idea what you've done. I almost lost my job because of you, you little bit-“

"because of me?" your voice came out loud, catching everyone off guard. you stepped outside the barrier they had set up for your protection and anger took over. "you've always been a terrible father to me, we moved from New York because of TK, but I also had my life, I had my job, I had everything there, and do you remember what you said to me, dad? you said that you didn’t care, if I had enough money for it, than I should stay”

you got closer to Owen and the same look of anger that was in his eyes, you had in yours.

"I went to Texas with you, and you made my life a living hell, just like it always was with you. you didn't make it easy for me in 116, right? like never before in my life. until that day I never thought I could hate my father as much as I did from that moment on. in front of everyone you humiliated me, you belittled me, you showed me how much you never cared about me, and you hit me, dad. It's hard to put into words everything I've felt my whole life with you since my mother left us. I was just a child in need of your love, what did I do to deserve your resentment? I mean, I was a kid but I wasn’t clueless, I know that you hated me because of my mother, and I hated her too, cause she left me with you”

at that moment, tears were falling down your cheeks, but you didn't care anymore, you just needed to get it out. Owen tried to say something, but you cut him off again.

"I can forget, but never forgive. I'll never forgive you for the lost holidays, the lost birthdays, the lost childhood. all my past I've tried to erase it, but now I see, why would I change it? it made me who I am today, someone totally different from you, Owen. we might share a face and a last name, but we’re not the same. I hate you, and if I have to end your career to show you the extent of my hatred, I will fucking do it.”

as if time had slowed down, you saw the moment Owen's eyes filled with hatred, the exact moment he raised his hand towards you and approached. you were no longer afraid of him. you puffed out your chest and raised your face.

the hit never came.

Bobby held your father's hand in the air and stopped in front of you.

“get out of my firehouse right now, or I'll get you out myself. and if you dare to go near her again, you'll have this same conversation, but it'll be at a table in the police station and with my wife, the sergeant.”

the tension in the air was thick. Owen took one last look at you and turned around, leaving in heavy steps. TK didn't even bother to look at you, he just followed his father like a lost dog. coward.

suddenly all eyes were on you.

"I'm sorry" you said to Bobby in a shaky voice and he nodded. "I'm sorry, thank you" you repeated before he said anything. you felt a soft touch on your arm and turned to Buck, and that's when everything in you seemed to break again. the tears came out without you realizing it and the thank you came out in sobs.

"thank you" you kept repeating between sobs, and he quickly pulled you into his arms. the crying intensified and he just held you in, stroking your back. you tried to speak but nothing came out.

you could hear Bobby telling everyone to get out of the kitchen and you sank further into Buck's arms, letting yourself cry. cry for the situation that had just occurred, crying for your lost childhood, crying for your mother having abandoned you, crying for never having had a father who truly loved you, crying for everything you didn't have.

Buck's heart broke with every sob that came out of your mouth. he wanted to pull you deeper and deeper into his embrace, to take that pain away from you, the pain he knew so well. the pain of not being loved by your own parents, the pain of rejection. he wanted to make it clear that you had someone who cared, that you had him there at that moment. and it all made sense now, you saying that no one cared about you, because it was true.

"come on, let's go home" he said when he realized that your sobs had turned into small sighs. when he noticed that you were about to say something, he spoke faster. "no need to apologize or thank me, I've got your back"

*

what a mess.

what a mess your life has become.

it was late afternoon, the sun was setting in LA, and you were admiring the sky from your window. the coffee in your hand was already cold, and to be honest, it would be the first thing of the day to enter your stomach.

after an early morning visit from Bobby at your place, he suggested that you took a few personal days off, and you couldn't refuse, you needed it, your head and heart needed the rest. as the conversation went on, it was hard to accept that the man in front of you treated you with more empathy and love than the one who was supposed to be your father, they held the same position in the corporation, but they were totally different. Bobby defended and looked after you even though he hadn't known you for so long, while the other hurt you for a lifetime. life was unfair.

the silence was interrupted by the sound of the doorbell and nothing could have prepared you for that scene.

"hey there, we brought dinner, I hope you don't mind"

it was Buck with Jee-Yun on his arms, he held some bags in his unoccupied hand, and she held a small bouquet of flowers in her little hands.

"B-Buck, I-I"

"can we come in?" he asked and you moved out of the way.

"this is for you" the child's voice echoed in the room and she handed you the flowers. your eyes filled with tears and you smiled at the little girl.

"thank you sweetie, I love it. did you choose it?" she smiled and nodded.

Buck took some drawings and colored pencils out of a bag and the girl ran to the table.

"Buck" you entered in front of the blue-eyed man and he stopped what he was doing, paying attention to you. too much attention. "I'm sorry about yesterday, I know we haven't had a chance to talk yet, but thank you" you finished, your cheeks reddening as you realized you were too close to Buck.

"I told you, you don’t have to thank me" he replied as if it were nothing and went through his bags. "I hope you're hungry, I brought your favorite”

"how do you know this is my favorite?" you heart was beating a little faster and your cheeks were getting redder. Buck shrugged and looked at you with a smirk on his face.

"I heard you talking about it"

it's not like he was paying much attention to you, he just heard you talking about it with the guys. no big deal. maybe you were too sensitive about the whole situation and your head was creating scenarios.

it was an amazing evening. Buck never mention what had happened the day before, let alone treat you with pity, Jee-Yun was the sweetest girl in the world, and apparently she loved your company, to the point of ending the night sleeping on your lap. you were concentrating on the childish smell coming off her, when you noticed Buck looking at you.

"what?"

"you're good with children" he replied smiling, and your damn heart beat faster again.

"I really like them" you went back to touching Jee-Yun's hair, when you heard a muffled laugh coming from Buck. "what's so funny?"

"if I'd known that a dose of toddler would stop you hating me, I'd have brought her a lot sooner." his words made you smile.

"I told you I didn't hate you, I just didn't like you that much" he laughed again. his smile was so beautiful.

"we'd better get going, I promised her parents I wouldn't take her home late" he said as he approached and you gave him the sleepy kid.

"of course" you watched the way he tucked the little girl into his big arms and followed him to the door. "thank you for the evening, I really needed it"

"it was nothing, you're great company, she loved you" he said, pointing at his niece. "I'll see you later"

you kinda liked Evan Buckley now.

*

"I know you asked me not to bring anything, but I couldn't help myself, I'm sorry," Buck said, entering your apartment with a jar full of cookies.

"when did you do that? you know what, never mind" you said laughing, turning your attention back to the food.

after the visit with his niece, Buck showed the next day again, and every other day after that with dinner, he didn't miss a single day. it was amazing how Buck made everything lighter, on the days when your thoughts wouldn't give you a break, he would find a way to distract you, or when you wanted to talk, he knew how to listen to you, or when you just wanted to be quiet, he would accompany you in silence. Buck never mentioned what had happened with your family, never asked you anything, he always made you feel comfortable in his presence, and you were getting used to it.

your heart proved treacherous around the blue-eyed man, apparently it started beating faster when Buck was around, and you didn't know what was going on.

"a penny for your thoughts" Buck took you out of your head and you realized how close he was.

"I-I... Sorry, I was just, just focused on the food"

"you didn't have to worry, you know I don't mind bringing it"

"I know, but I also know that today was a hard day, so I wanted to prepare something for you, and thank you for, you know, everything" you couldn't look him in the eye and Buck pulled you close, staring at you, it unsettled you.

"I've already told you there's no need to thank me, I enjoy your company"

your face was hot and you were sure it was red. but from this angle Buck's eyes looked much bluer than usual, and his lips with a slight smile were so beautiful and inviting.

"I think something's burning," Buck said in a whisper and too close to your face.

"o-oh, yeah, okay" God, you were pathetic.

living with a father and a brother meant that you would never have anyone to have girls talk. living with a father and a brother who hated you meant that you would never have any personal conversations of any kind. this kind of trauma made it hard for you to open up to people and maintain friendships. being at 118 was everything you'd never had in your life, and it was the biggest change of your life, because they didn't just work together, they were family and made you feel part of it too.

this trauma also reflected on your romantic life, you never really fell in love, you didn't really know what it was like. when a guy talked about feelings, you decided it was time to walk away.

and believing that you hated Buck was much more comfortable, because being with him and realizing the person he really was, was making you confused. the way he took care of you without wanting anything in return made your heart beat stronger. how he came to you during the day to see if everything was all right, if you were feeling well. or the dinners that became your thing now, you would always have dinner together, no matter where or how. this had been going on for months.

your feelings for Buck were growing, but how would they not. he was so affectionate, so kind, so easy to be around, you were always anxious to be around him, and loved looking into those big blue eyes when he was too focused on something to notice you staring, the way he always touched you to draw your attention, the way he kept flirting with you just to see your face turn red, the way your body reacted when he was around. Buck was breathtaking. and he wasn’t making things any easier for you, it was really easy to fall in love with Buck.

oh damn.

you were in love with Evan Buckley.

*

"hey you okay?" you were startled by a voice breaking the silence in the locker room, it was Eddie.

"you scared me"

"I usually do that to people" he said, sitting down next to you and you laughed.

"idiot"

"what happened between you and Buck? you didn’t leave with him today"

"nothing" you looked away and Eddie knew there was something wrong between you.

"did you guys had a fight? It's not like you're not together all the time, every second of the day" he teased.

"no, it's fine"

"come on, something must-"

"I'm in love with him" you blurted out.

you got up from the bench and started walking around the room anxiously, Eddie stayed silent waiting for you to continue.

"I'm in love with him, Eddie, and I don't know what to do with this information, I'm kind of freaking out in here" you said, pointing to your heart and then to your head. "this has never happened before, I've never liked anyone enough to stay, and I want to stay, I want this, I want to feel this and I want to feel it with him. it's very easy to like Buck, I mean, have you seen that smile? the way he smiles when he's up to something or when he laughs at his own jokes, which, let's face it, are terrible. and those blue eyes? they're the most beautiful eyes I've ever seen in my life. but I'm terrified, that's the truth. I've never seen him in a relationship, a real one, what's to say he'd want one with me? that's taking into account that he likes me, which he clearly doesn't, I mean, I know he likes me as a friend, we have such a good friendship, but he certainly doesn't like me in a romantic way, I'm sure of that, have you seen what a mess I am? If you haven't, I'm telling you now, I'm a mess Eddie, and Buck is so-so"

"I thought you liked my jokes" you stopped in shock and looked at the door.

Buck.

"Buck I-I"

"I think that's my cue to leave the lovebirds alone," Eddie said as he left and you hadn't even noticed that he was still there.

"so you like me, huh?" he said coming closer and you really wished there was a hole to stick your head in.

"Buck" you sighed defeatedly, how embarrassing was this. "I like you, I like you a lot"

"then we have to talk" he said seriously and your heart sank. this was the time you would be rejected. again.

"Buck, don't. I know you'll say you don't feel the same way, and frankly I don't need any more humiliation, it's enough that you've heard all this. I'm fine and I'll be fine, I promise you" you picked up your things, still not facing Buck. "I'm going home now, let's just pretend this never happ-"

"I like you" he stopped in front of you and with his face too close to yours, continued to speak "oh fuck it, I'm in love with you, completely, deeply, truly in love with you”

his hands were on your face holding you in place. your heart couldn't even fit in your chest anymore, and you were probably going to cry at any second.

"i love how comfortable you feel next to me, i love how you fix your hair when you get nervous, or when you turn red when i flirt with you. i love all your smiles, the happy one, the stupid one, the ironic one, and especially the one that's mine. the one that's kept just for me, when we're having dinner together, or when i meet you in the middle of the shift, or when you meet me in the middle of the scene to check if i'm okay. that will always be my favorite. i love how you make me feel at home anywhere and at anytime. you are home. I love you.”

you were definitely crying at that point.

"I think I'm in love with you too" you joked and Buck brought his face even closer to yours.

"oh you think?" he had that damn smirk on his face. "let me prove then that I'm worth being loved by you"

his mouth touched yours, and your stomach felt like a house of uncontrolled butterflies. his lips were so soft, one hand held your face while the other found your waist. your body was pressed against a wall. and suddenly your tongues were entwined in a passionate, anxious kiss. your breaths were uncontrolled and Buck had to break away when a low moan came from your mouth. he wouldn't last long with those noises you were making.

"I think we'd better go home" he said breathless.

"I'll go anywhere with you"

you definitely loved Evan Buckley.

you didn't know it yet, but Buck was about to show you that you were totally capable of being loved, and very much so. your family's story wouldn't be repeated, you wouldn't follow your family's line, you would create your own. the most beautiful love story ever.

[ghostgirl-22]

you don’t have to do this if you don’t want to but..

patrick spiking arts drink with like viagra or an aphrodisiac and then “helping him out” because he’s such a good friend <3

Oh but I want to!! <3

This is post Artrick and Patashi break up and Patrick and Art end up in Vegas at the same bachelor party for a high school friend. Maybe Art has it coming? Maybe Patrick is like the best friend he’s ever had <3

Heed all warnings cause Patrick is totally remorseless and unlike everyone who does something bad in those old black and white movies I’ve been watching lately, he absolutely gets away with it. Sorry not sorry!

CW: intoxication, secret drugging, cnc, dub con (in the sense that Art doesn’t have all the information, but he wants it, he told me). This is pretty much what it says in the ask. Obviously don’t read if this makes you uncomfortable. Not proofread.

—-

It’s bad and wrong, and wrong, and so fucking wrong.

Patrick might tell the truth later. Might let Art get back at him because even for him this is kinda fucked up. But to be fair, he only did it because he was horny. And maybe he wanted a little revenge.

It all started at the bachelor party. It’s the first time they’d seen each other since Tashi’s injury and everything. 

Both of them trying to put it all aside for their high school buddy Addison’s Vegas bachelor party. He’s hosting it with his husband to be…this older, rich tech company guy. Patrick thinks it’s a bit annoying. Even if he was gonna marry some dude he wouldn’t want the guy crashing his bachelor party— he should have his own and hang out with his own friends. but that’s beside the point. 

Patrick thought Art wouldn’t dare show up because Patrick was always closer with Addison. Art probably thought the same thing about him. And yet…surprise. 

Thankfully they barely have a minute alone together sober. Sober, Art is so cool. 

Cool. 

Cold. 

Icy, even. 

Totally Remorseless. They make small talk. He’s dating her now, the little shit. She’s coaching him. He’s playing Indian Wells in a few months. Patrick ponders hating Art. He doesn’t know if he’s quite there yet but it feels like he’s close. 

He still looks so pretty though. 

It’s a reunion of sorts. A lot of their old teammates came. Addison rented the penthouse suite in the Bellagio, private elevator, crazy views… fifteen guys… seven rooms, not that anyone plans to sleep.

Art and Patrick had been known to read each others minds in the past and it feels like that hasn’t changed. Apparently they’ve silently agreed that the last thing they want is people asking things like… “what the fuck happened? you two used to be so close.” Which is how they end up in this unspoken truce pretending like it’s all normal between them. All the way down to the expectation of them sharing a room. Which is fine because, again, no one is really planning on sleeping.

Everyone meets up in the afternoon and they start in the casino. Getting tipsy on watered down liquor while they all spend way too much money. All of them rich kids, or recovering rich kids. Patrick’s not using his parents money but he’s still reckless like he is, so certain he’s gonna make it all back on the craps table.  Art doesn’t gamble so Patrick decides to make him blow on his dice, as a joke the way girls do in movies. of course he wins it all back and quite a bit more on a real risky bet. It’s annoying in the way. He’s glad he won but it feels like it’s Art that can’t lose. Suddenly everyone at the table is asking him to bless their dice. Like he’s just so fucking lucky all the time. 

Patrick doesn’t push his own luck. Whatever the fuck is left of it.

The whole group cleans up and goes out to dinner in the evening. They catch up on their lives since school and tell silly, fun, embarrassing stories to Addison’s husband to be. Afterwords they go to a show. A magic show. Tipsy and cheering at the tricks like they’re back in 6th grade. It’s easy. It’s fun, actually. He barely has to be alone with Art.

By 11pm they’ve started bouncing around the strip from club to club. Bar to bar. Party to party. Mostly gay bars and drag shows which no one minds because honestly they all just love Addison so much. They’re getting properly drunk now. 

It’s then when Art begins getting attention on a level that even he’s not used to from all these really hot guys… that’s when everything gets messy. Drunk and flushed, Art has no idea how to receive any of it except to turn all his repressed homosexual energy back onto the safest target. Patrick.

“We’ll just pretend to be together, you know? So they stop…touching me.” He explains loudly in Patrick’s ear.

Patrick smiles, just about drunk enough to put up with this bullshit. “Okay…fine… whatever… fuck it.”

It doesn’t feel pretend though, especially when they end up soaking wet at this all night foam party just downstairs in their hotel. It’s way too late at night, so many guys jumping up and down all sweaty and hot. Boys kissing. Touching. Shirts unbuttoned, the music too loud, skin too soft. Art hanging all over him, so drunk they actually start grinding to the music. The bass competing with Patrick’s heartbeat for which can go faster.  Feelings so complicated Patrick might need 24 hours in the psych ward to sort it all out. 

What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas right? 

Patrick needs a minute. He leaves Art alone, barely able to take anymore. He uses the excuse of needing the restroom. It’s not even a second before at least two guys are swooping in, competing to take his place, one of them their other teammate Lachlan who’s got a wife at home and a child on the way. 

God. 

Patrick needs another fucking drink. Addisons already at the bar and Patrick leans in next to him. 

“What’s that?” He asks Addison as he’s adding powder to his glass.

“It’s a magic pill,” Addison laughs.

”Magic?” Patrick hiccups. 

“Yeah like… like horny candy.” 

Patrick pouts, brows raised in confusion. maybe he’s a little too drunk for this game.

“Viagra. Sometimes i spike my boyfriend— my fiancés drink with it. See.” He holds up a little pill and crushes it under his glass on the bar

Patrick laughs. “Isn’t that kinda fucked up?”  

“Well…I mean… probably yes… but you know he’s older. So I feel like I’m doing this for his ego.” Addison explains.

“Hm,” Patrick ponders. “Have you ever tried it?”

“I’ve had a sip of his drink before when i didn’t want him to know i spiked it. We ended up going at it all fucking night.” Addison grins. “It’s not necessarily for guys our age…but there’s no harm in it as long as it doesn’t last more than four hours i guess. which is easy if you just fuck. Here. You can take one with your… boyfriend? girlfriend?”

the way Patrick feels right now, his dick is so hard he can’t even fathom the point of viagra but he lets Addison drop the pill in his hand anyway. who knows? He’ll be 24 in six months. A proper grown up. maybe his dick will be the next part of his body that will lose the will to live.

“Are you still bisexual Pat?” Addison leans in stroking Patrick’s bare chest. “Cause we’re kinda open and wouldn’t mind trying it with you tonight, and you know… the more the merrier if you want blondie to join us.”

They both glance at Art, dancing all drunk and unabashed between both guys. their hands all over his lithe figure while the speaker blares Bad Romance by Lady Gaga.  

Patrick rolls his eyes and looks back at Addison. “He may be a fucking tease but we both know he would never. But I think I need more to drink before I get back to you.”

“Well…You know where to find us… preferably before this kicks in!” Addison raises his glass. 

Patrick waves to the bartender, fingering the pill in his other hand. Then it sort of hits him like a ton of bricks. This nasty idea. More than a little fucked up. He almost wants to touch himself just thinking about it. 

He orders two drinks. Rum and coke. Nothing crazy different than what they’ve been drinking all night. Crushes the pill into dust under the cold glass and swirls his finger with the powder into the glass he wants to give to Art..

Oh he feels a little gross. Most people around him too drunk… the bartender too busy to notice what he’s doing. 

Art doesn’t think twice; he trusts Patrick so much. What a wonder to betray someone and still think you can trust them so completely. like none of it matters. Art let’s Patrick “save” him from the other boys touching him.

“I swear i feel like Lach was turned on,” he hiccups, swallowing the drink down. “Like I could feel his… you know what.” He continues in Patrick’s ear. 

”Really? Could you?” Patrick asks, dryly. Stupid. He still acts so… innocent oblivious. Patrick just wants to fuck shake him. He’s beyond hating Art. He doesn’t hate him. Could never hate him. He does hate that after all this fucking time he’s still not over him. 

It doesn’t take long for Art to feel it. He’s back to clinging to Patrick. All over him as a way to keep the other boys away. Patrick starts to notice him adjusting himself, getting breathy, getting anxious. Gripping a little too tightly.   

“Uh I need um…um…  is it too hot in here?” He says in Patrick’s ear. “I need water.” 

“What?” Patrick asks like he didn’t hear him. Keeps his body pressed close, hot breath in Patrick’s ear.

“The room… I think I need to go back to the room.” 

Patrick shrugs. They tell a couple of the guys they’re leaving. And of course get teased for being lightweights at 4 in the morning. Only in Vegas. 

Art has his eyes closed, knees knocked together, too drunk, so aroused. He’s resting the side of his head against the wall of the private elevator as they make their way up to penthouse.

”Sleepy?” Patrick asks, standing in his space. 

Art’s all glassy eyed, cheeks flushed, pupils blown wide when he gazes at Patrick. “Um… yeah… yeah.” He stammers.  

Patrick smirks, tangles his fingers into Arts damp hair. He hums, eyes closed immediately, lips parted. And then the elevator dings and Patrick lets go. Arts eyes open and he stumbles out behind Patrick. 

In the room Art’s trying to hide it from Patrick. Trying to keep himself together. He drinks a lot of water from the mini fridge. Tries to go in the bathroom but Patirck gets there first. Not to pee or anything, he’s too fucking hard for that. Probably just to keep Art from jerking himself silly over the toilet. 

Patrick strips down to his boxers for sleep. Brushes his teeth in the mirror. The whole time he’s tenting, so ridiculously aroused, thinking of Art squirming, Viagra unknowingly coursing through his system. 

Patrick decides he’s probably not a good person but right now he doesn’t fucking care. 

He reaches inside his boxers to adjust himself before returning to the bedroom, but he has to touch himself just a little first. A few gentle jerks over the length of his dick and he’s catching his breath. He tucks himself up, snug against the waistband of his boxers and takes a few deep breaths. 

When he walks back in the bedroom, Art is sitting on the edge of the bed, one hand down his pants, tugging himself, little soft moans escaping his lips. He panics when he sees Patrick and tries to save face but it’s kinda too late. 

“Uh sorry… uh… it’s not—” 

“You like boys Art?” Patrick teases.

“No… I just… I think I’m overstimulated.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah I… I… it was a lot of touching. I was…” he takes a deep breath. “I mean I know I was a little bit um… turned on when they were…when the three of us were…when I could feel…” 

“When they had you sandwiched between them?”

”Fuck.” He whispers. “yeah a little…i guess more than I thought.” He admits. 

Patrick sits next to him on the bed. “Yeah me too.” He pads his palm over the outline of his own cock. 

Art staring, fingers gripping the sheets as he whispers a barely audible, “Jesus.”  

“We could… maybe… help each other out,” Patrick suggests.

Art looks up at his face, eyes narrowed.

”I mean nothing would change. It’d just be a one time favor between… old friends.”

Art looks down again, knee bouncing. Desperate enough to say: “Okay um…you mean like jerk off together? Like in high school?”

“Or…” Patrick gets on his knees on the floor in front him. 

“Patrick I—I’m not gonna do—“ he stammers. 

“I’m not asking you to… do you want me to do it to you or not?”

He takes a deep, shaky breath and then he nods.

Patrick moves between his thighs and tugs his zipper down further, eases his boxers down and hears Art let out a gentle gasp as his cock is released. Oh it’s painfully full. Poor thing he’s practically humping into Patrick’s mouth the moment he gets contact. 

“Mm, fuck,” Art sighs relieved to get the sensation. Patrick almost wants to touch himself. Can feel his heartbeat pounding in his ears while licking all along the base. Taking his time, swirling his tongue around the tip. He looks up at Art as he does it. He’s got his eyes closed, one hand holding himself upright on the bed and two fingers of his other hand shoved deep into his mouth as he moans around them. 

Oh. Right. Fucking oral fixation. Patrick’s drunk brain vaguely supplies. 

He’s distracted for a minute while kissing along the tip, licking, teasing, sucking and watching Art slide his fingers into and out of his mouth. Gorgeous little thing. 

Patrick severely underestimates how close he is.  And suddenly his face is getting painted with heated pearly liquid. “Oh.. ohfuckfuck’msorry… fuck.” Art groans around his fingers, hitching his hips involuntarily as more and more spurts out. 

Patrick opens his mouth and catches some on his tongue, he can’t help laughing a bit at how fucking crazy all of this is. On the floor of the penthouse suite at the Bellagio and he’s on his knees for his ex best friend who’s all drugged out on harddick medicine, and probably just gave him his first ever facial.

Patrick wipes a lot of it off on his arm and thumbs some of the excess off his cheek and nose, licking it into his mouth. “Well fuck.” He breathes. “You got a lot of that in you.” 

“Oh god…I didn’t mean to…Jesus, Pat look….” Art whines. Somehow he’s still almost as hard as he was before. 

Patrick runs his fingertips gently over the length, still spasming lightly. “You really had fun tonight huh?” 

“Oh fuck… this never… this never h-happens.” He stammers.  

“Really? You don’t get this turned on for women?”

Art presses his lips together, like he doesn’t want to admit to anything. He sits on his hands. “I um…” 

“Why don’t we try this,” Patrick says. “Don’t freak out…”  He goes to his travel bag for lube. 

“What—“ Art begins when he sees it. 

“I said relax,” Patrick says. 

Art leans back on his elbows as Patrick straddles him. “What are we doing?” 

“You already fucking jizzed in my face, just relax. You owe me this.” 

Art takes another shaky breath. Patrick covers his palm in lube and covers Art’s heavy, swollen cock. Art groans and shivers at the feel of it. So fucking sensitive. Patrick eases his own out and then takes them both in hand, lined up he starts jerking. Both of them moaning immediately, like a chorus, the sound filling up the room.

It’s sinful actually. The way it sounds. It’s probably something that would’ve made Art cry when he was 14 and so very afraid of drinking alcohol and swear words and sex before marriage. 

Now he’s moaning like a whore  around his fingertips, hips jerking up into Patrick’s fist, both of their cocks heated and swollen. Patrick is barely hanging on. He wonders if anyone else came home. If they can hear them fucking, neither of them holding back as Patrick moves faster and faster. 

Art falls apart seconds later, come coating Patrick’s palm, dripping between his fingers. and then Patrick’s following shortly after. Shooting spurts of come, aiming some at Art’s bare chest maybe as a little bit of payback. “Take them out of your mouth,” Patrick hisses. Art gazes up at him and slowly pulls his fingers out.   

Patrick pushes him all the way down on the bed and kisses him roughly. Art drawing his knees up, socked feet flat on the bed and arching into it. Tongues and spit everywhere. Patrick taking a minute to replace his lips on Art’s mouth with his come stained fingers. just to feel the eager way Art sucks them in, pulling hard with his tongue. If Art realizes he’s tasting himself, tasting Patrick, he isn’t complaining. 

Patrick pulls out, wet and sloppy and turns Art’s pretty face back into the kiss, deepening it till he’s moaning into Patrick’s mouth. Doing everything he can for more of the sensation. Grinding his hips up, his still heavy cock sliding along Patrick’s bottom. 

“Oh fuck,” Patrick groans because it’s still so hard. “You wanna fuck me?” 

“mm, my god,” is all Art can manage. 

“I won’t tell your girlfriend.” 

That draws him out of whatever messy trance he’s in and Art pulls away from Patrick, panting. “Oh god… why won’t it go away? ‘m is there something wrong with me?” He whines, suddenly teary eyed. 

“Like what?” Patrick asks, carefully. He doesn’t want to over do it.  

“I dunno… I dunno. I’m so… did i drink too much? I just… i just wanna… i feel so fucking horny…and I can’t calm down. I just… i wanna just… fuck. I’m… I’m so sorry, Patrick.”

Tired and drunk and overstimulated from all the sex he starts getting emotional. “I’m so sorry for everything. I think I love you. I think I’m fucking in love with you, Patrick. I think about you all the time when I’m fuck—”

”Okay shut the fuck up,” Patrick snaps gently, because the last thing he wants is to feel bad for him on a sentence like that. The last thing he wants is to spiral thinking about the two of them together getting everything they want without him. “You want my help?”

”Yes,” Art sniffles.   

“Here…” he hands Art the rest of the lube. “put this on and just… you can fuck me till you’re all fucked out. just imagine I’m a fucking fleshlight or something.” 

“Really?” He hiccups, and he looks so grateful like he’s gonna cry again. 

“Hey… come on, stop man. Just… I’m doing you a favor. Don’t fucking cry about it.” 

“I’m sorry,” he whispers and wipes his nose on the back of his palm. “I’m sorry. you’re right. Thank you so much. I’m sorry.” 

Patrick rolls his eyes and settles onto the pillow. he’s going to hell probably. Art is so fucking drunk, thinks he’s just trying to come down from some normal night where he got too overwhelmed. He thinks Patrick is just being such a good friend. 

It’s so fucking messed up but honestly it also feels really fucking good. Covered in lube. His unbearably repressed ex best friends dick, the same dick he’s been dreaming about since the first time he saw it. That pretty dick pumping in and out of him over and over again. 

“And don’t worry,” he whispers to Art. “it’s not even gay” because Patrick is just helping him relax. “It’s not even real sex I promise.” Even though Patrick can’t count how many times Art comes. Maybe 4, maybe 7. How many times Patrick’s nutted all over the pristine hotel sheets. He knows he’s managed to spill at least 3 times before Art is finally done, done. And Patrick is covered in his come and sweat and spit and tears he couldn’t be happier.

Art nearly wets himself in his rush to get to the bathroom after it all. Probably just relieved to finally be able to go. 

Patrick is so pleasantly sore and drunk and warm. He’s still covered in the sticky mess of it, knowing it’ll be much grosser on waking but he can’t bring himself to move. Art stumbles, back into the king sized bed, moving away from the wet spot but still burying his head near the crook of Patrick’s head and shoulder. So yummy.

He’ll probably tell Art at some point, maybe. Possibly. But right now the city is hungover, the sun is peeking in through the black out curtains and Patrick hasn’t felt this satisfied in a very long time. So easy… he drifts off into a peaceful sleep. 

(Flop era going strong. Sorry so long y’all. I couldn’t stop yapping.)

[bnnysweets]

THE MISSING PIECE

sevika x fem!reader

author’s note: english is not my first language! im sorry for the amount of angst. if you went trough anything like reader i feel sorry for you and i truly hope you’re okay.

warnings: mention of past sexual abuse during childhood. mention of blood. a lot of angst and dark themes. reader’s parents don’t care about her. sevika comforts reader. reader is called babygirl, doll, good girl and babe.

“babygirl, i need you to relax for me” sevika said “i am!” you groaned while she tried to put deeper one finger into you, this was the ninth time you were trying to have penetrative sex and didn’t matter how much lube or time making out, you body keeping rejecting sevika, she took her finger out of your warm intimate (that she didn’t even put inside), she looked at you and noticed that you were silently sobbing “doll, don’t need to cry” she cupped your cheek and you leaned in her hand just like a kitten, “i’m so full of this! why this happen EVERY SINGLE TIME” you said between sobs “is there something you aren’t saying to me?”, she asked and you started crying more more and more, she moved from the edge of the bed to cup you in her lap, she hugged you while you soaked her neck with your tears and drool “shh babe, you’re safe now, no one is after you, no one. this is our home, i’m here, nobody gonna to try anything against you. you are safe. look at me, yeah, good girl, you’re such a sweet girl, do you know that? i need you to calm down for me”.

now, looking at her eyes you felt like everything else was pure illusion because you have something that everyone said that you were incapable of have: love. you did your breath exercises and slowly calmed down, sevika stayed with you all the time, holding your hand and whispering sweet nothings when she noticed you were started to getting worked up again. “why when i finally consent to do it i cant?” you said so softly that she almost didn’t hear, sevika was truly shocked, you never told her that, but to be fair, you never told anyone, but when she felt the weight of that words, what they meant, the puzzle was missing less pieces, now it made sense why you refused to leave home alone, why you started to tremble when you’re walking back home at night, why you didn’t left the house wearing some types of clothes that she knows you love, why you held her hand tighter when some man come too close, why you had so much trouble to talk about your sex experience, now it all made sense.

“i’m sorry” sevika said, now with her own eyes filled with water, “i am really sorry for…” “you don’t need to be” you interrupted, “it’s not recent…”, “someone knows?” she asked hesitant, “my parents, but they don’t care…when…uhm…everything happened i came home with blood, like, everywhere, we rushed to the hospital and i couldn’t talk, i was in a trance, when the nurses saw where the blood was coming from they called the cops but it was useless, i didn’t spoke a single word. but the situation was very clear, when we arrived home my parents said that i wasn’t allowed to leave the house alone after 6 p.m., but they never talked to me about it”. you took a really deep breath “i spent a whole fucking month just in my room, it was rare for me to leave, but i spent all of the time crying, screaming, panicking, and the walls were very thin… they definitely listened to everything, but they didn’t care” she hugged you tighter and you felt lighter, it was something inside you for so long and finally you were getting what you wanted when you were 14, comfort, you stayed like this until you both slept, and for the first time in years, you felt your body truly relaxed, truly secure, like you could trust your body in her hands and all she would do to it was take care.

dividers by @bernardsbendystraws

[julietasgf]

SOTR — MY THOUGHTS

I finally finished SOTR and I wanted to give some opinions. I already warn I didn't like it much (and I'm going to explain why), but I didn't hate it. just... meh. this is probably the first and last time I'm going to talk in deep about it besides making one face study or other :) as always, this is just my opinion and pls remember to respect each other's opinions! if you enjoyed the book, good for you! and if you didn't read it yet, read the book to have your own opinions on it!

I want to be fair and start with what I liked in this book:

wyatt and maysilee are great characters! wyatt honestly became my favorite in this book lol (love my little neurodivergent guy) and maysilee was written so funny! to me they honestly carried the book, I was so entertained by them

burdock and asterid 💖 they were so cute, and mind you, I was never invested in everlark or interested in katniss' parents

the little cameo of tam amber and clerk carmine raising a girl was adorable! clerk carmine in general was lovely ngl

beetee's plotline was amazing, despite heartbreaking, and I deeply enjoyed how it was written

wiress' games were SO interesting??? maybe it's me focusing on such a minor detail but I loved it

the whole plot of louella and lou lou was disturbing, maybe the most disturbing I've seen in the whole franchise, and it really struck out to me as a horror element

I understand and appreciate the attempt of trying to pass a political message for a younger audience, because let's be honest, this book was indeed written for a younger audience and there's nothing wrong with it! it's quite simplistic in the way it tries to pass it through, yes, but I recognize it was not written for me and that's okay

before going into what I disliked, I want to point out that I put the blame a bit on myself bc I had some expectations and it's natural to be disappointed when they don't happen (even if I tried a lot to NOT have expectations, I talked about this before in my blog). so read this with a grain of salt because I'm not a casual reader.

this book felt cheap. and when I say cheap, I mean that it doesn't bring new things at all. not thematically, not in worldbuilding aspects. I was already concerned when the book was announced and it was haymitch's pov because this meant it would be too much like the original thg book: a kid in D12 from the seam is reaped and goes through horrific events in the games. and in this case, it feels like a mix between THG and catching fire. and the thing is that I'm not completely against narrating the 2QQ, but there would be other ways to do it with other characters that didn't feel so overused tbh;

still on worldbuilding, it's so disappointing this book doesn't bring anything new to the table regarding panem or the districts' cultures, except for some interesting burial traditions in D12. it's confusing to me that the hunger games are still that undeveloped when it's just 25 years before katniss' games. it seems like such a short time for the efficiency of the capitol change so much. same for characters. I expected this book to have so many interesting characters (specially since we were going to have 48 tributes lol), but we have almost nothing except cameos, and the ones we have (like wyatt and maysilee) felt underused by the narrative;

I know a lot of people say that this book was a bridge between tbosas and og trilogy, but then the bridge was made out of really bad quality wood and it's about to fall at any minute. the connections felt forced and for some reason now half of D12 is covey or related to them (and I say this as someone who loves the covey). some of the connections established here make the og trilogy interactions seem a bit odd;

this book, to me, paints an idea of katniss being some sort of chosen one in thg that made me quite upset. and I don't say that for the covey relations, but oh! she actually reminds haymitch of louella, and oh! she was also the daughter of his best friend, and oh! haymitch also had a private talk about president snow not trusting in birds! the charm of katniss to me, at least, was that she was never a chosen one. she was the right person at the right time. she was a kid used as a tool. but anyway that's just me;

I know the cameos and fanservices are controversial because this book is very on the nose with it. and yeah, it's annoying, but not as annoying as the goddamned snowbaird fanservice on the sheer year of 2025. compared to the og trilogy, snow felt ooc. in tbosas it's justifiable because he's a kid, he's a teen, but here he's pushing 60. why is he telling things like this to a D12? why is he letting so many rebel discourse pass in front of his nose? in thg it felt justifiable that he wouldn't kill katniss because it would clearly turn her into a martyr, but in this, nothing really justifies why he didn't kill haymitch;

if I had the energy, I would do a whole post on lenore dove and why her character is deeply disappointing and honestly shallow (it's specially disappointing when her character is written by a woman, and still, she feels like the trope of the dead girlfriend that doesn't get depth and it's clearly there to haunt the boyfriend). there's an attempt to paint her as a strongly opiniated girl that really didn't work for me because we never get to know lenore dove outside of how haymitch talks about her. her personality felt like mixing sejanus and lucy gray, but without really caring about the nuances of both, and she's clearly an attempt to make lucy gray happen again but without what made her special;

the parallels between katniss and haymitch felt forced imo and it felt like SC was trying so so so hard all the time to convince us that actually he's just katniss but male version. and it's specially sad to me because haymitch, the main character of the whole book, was the most uninteresting one;

how do you make a book about propaganda and hume and doesn't approach career tributes at all? here, they feel exactly how they were in 74th hunger games. WHAT happened? how did they go from scared children trying to run from the arena in the 10th to this?

the writing didn't feel good. the dialogues were too expositive and didn't make sense for some adult characters (like beetee and plutarch) to talk in the way they did. I'm not going deep into this because I didn't read her other saga of books like TUC, but I have friends who pointed out exactly that this doesn't feel like how SC writes.

I want to finish this saying that I've seen some takes around saying that if you dislike or criticize this book, then it's because you didn't focus on the political message regarding propaganda and the characters were used as tools to get the message through. and I'm going to hold some people's hands and tell them to go read political books outside of the hunger games. a book's political message can be valid, but I'm not going to say it was well done or well written just because of it. after all, in the end, a book is still a book, and a book is a work that gets to be judged by its writing and structure.

this book felt like a movie script, and when I say it, I mean it was written structured like one. the way things happen, the amount of quick name drop, the chronology of events. and I say this because books and movies are different medias and are narrated in different ways. I'm going to say that I already thought it was a red flag that when the book was announced, the movie was already confirmed for 2026, but I didn't expect it to be so clear about being written for a movie. bc that's what this book is. it's a book written for lionsgate to produce a new hunger games movie. I've said it before, and I'm going to say it again: the feeling I had is that lionsgate wanted a new movie after tbosas being such a hit in 2024. but oh no! when the book came out, it was so badly received... SC, can you do a safer and much more comfortable for the audience book? one that they for sure will love. and here it is.

I didn't find it downright bad, it's enjoyable at times (the first two chapters were genuinely good imo), but it's at best 2.5 to me. it doesn't work as a standalone work, it doesn't work as part of a trilogy. this may be an unpopular opinion, but I feel like it's being so praised rn bc ppl are still hyped with it coming out (like when you eat too much sugar, yk what I mean?) and it has a lot of cameos and familiar faces. but, in some months, I def think some people will start to change their opinions once more debates rise up.

it's specially sad to me that the og saga proposed itself to criticize the death of children and the issues of entertainment industry, and people spent years saying there wouldn't be a haymitch book because it would go against the point of the trilogy, just then to... get another book about children dying in the most brutal ways (this one in specific is so much more brutal than the others, I have to say, specially with the amount of 12-13 yo tributes that appear).

suzanne collins always writes when she has something to say, but in this, she really only told us she had to pay her bills.

[decayanddecorate]

you guys REALLY liked the rosnag so here's some headcanons/plotpoints about how I think their relationship progresses!

in the beginning, there's a lot of tension I think. ros is sorting herself out and focused a lot of building the castle. everyone is pretty busy doing other things, grinding, getting stronger, and while ros is too, it's pretty clear her priority is making the castle. I like to imagine sneeg, working on his smithing in the castle, in his tiny alcove, gets some pretty standard one on one with her. especially when she wakes up early and comes and goes with little odds and ends. tea of her own making, some bread, making sure everyone in the castle that's there is well fed and taken care of, because that's just who ros is.

sneeg catches feelings pretty early, but I hc that ros and foolish have a lavender marriage to validate her rule as the queen, so he doesn't think anything can come from it in the official sense. they can't marry, they can't be anything that I feel like sneeg would want. so he just focuses on protection, on getting stronger.

when foolish dies for the first time, losing all of his lives and being reset, this is when things really pick up. clown is around for this bit too, but it's hell. they band together to protect the queen and get stronger, together. clown, too. this is around the time that I personally believe ros starts to think more than just platonically of sneeg. she becomes a little more attentive to him.

by the time that the owen situation happens, sneeg is in deep but he won't admit it. because it'll go nowhere, and he makes me think of someone who would want to get married. eventually. settle down into a quiet life, even if he doesn't particularly care about that right now. he wants to be a wife guy. ros is also in deep, but she's dealing with a million other things, and it's getting hard to even rationalize herself, let alone think about feelings. she doesn't get the chance to completely process, or act on anything. neither of them do.

that is, until the ball. she's going with aimsey, someone she cherishes, but at some point in the few days before it happens, they kiss. neither is sure who initiated it, just that its quick and pressed, and they're both reeling afterwards. ros is overjoyed, sneeg is terrified. she takes his hands in hers and tells him that they'll talk once the ball is over, because she wants to give him the space and time and she can't when all her focus is all the ball. he agrees, and for a good minute, they sit in the fact that this real and happening.

is it love? is this what they've gathered in their chest for weeks now? months? hidden away and only letting the feelings shine through cracks in their hands.

they don't get the chance to answer that question, unfortunately. one moment ros is there, laughing. their eyes meet across the room, warm and bright and full of hope of a future. the next, she's gone. he's yelling from the yellow faction table, screaming with foolish and trying to logic. trying to reason and rationalize at why it isn't fair. why they need to bring ros back. why they can't do this. but he knows it has nothing to do with all of that, and everything to do with a future that was ripped away.

when ros comes back, something is very very wrong. she's different, scared. she doesn't remember, but he's familiar. losing himself slowly to the sculk under his clothes, but she's back and he's so glad. even if she's different. sneeg doesn't care about all of that, and ros is grateful to have someone who isn't trying to change her into a person she was before. when they kiss again, in the months that come, it's earnest. it's hesitant but full of love and hope. sneeg treats it as the first, and to ros, it is the first.

some point after this, weeks, months, even a year or so, ros and sneeg decide they're together behind closed doors. it isn't safe to be more, that is, until ros gets pregnant. it's a scare and a shock to them both, and it takes him several tries to calm her down and clutch her face so delicately in his hands to tell her that he wants this. wants this child and loves ros. that they deserve, for once in their lives, to be happy and okay. to have peace.

foolish is all too pleased to dissolve their marriage to bless theirs. everyone is caught off guard by it, unexpected but delighted, and they dress in their finest.

they gut a house far from spawn and the kingdom to raise this kid together, and even if their colors will always be yellow, they'll always be ready to answer the king's summons, they decide it's time to put the weapons and armor down. ros deserves peace, and sneeg? sneeg can stop being the number up guy for a while, especially if it means the daughter they bring into the world can live happily and in a house full of love.

been watching SO MUCH of the realm recently that I'm thinking about my blorbos...

thinking about how much comfort tr!sneeg provided for tr!ros during all of the drama with tr!owen. how comfortable she must have felt around him, because he's the one who reached out, who told her to talk to him, who as soon as he realized, didn't care about the quests, the kingdom, or anything else. he pulls her away and gives her a space to talk.

thinking about how in touch with her emotions ros is, how she's in tune with herself and even though she's anxious, she worries, she's definitely a crier, sneeg brings stability into it. he gives her a place to logic, of strong foundation and rightful anger. of solutions and safety.

thinking about how righteous hand of justice sneeg is, how logical and focused he can be. how he's intent on getting stronger, because he wants to do so by his own means, and how ros? ros? how she gives him something worth protecting. he isn't overly emotional, but when she's near him, he can be. he can set the justice down, the solutions, the logic - and he can just be.

they don't try to change each other, but they simply exist together. they grind levels, they work hard, they laugh and carry on. they're safe to exist, safe to be logic and emotion. they meld together and blend so well? they soundboard back and forth, or they just exist together in a way that simply is. fuuuuuck, I gotta write this.

[audliminal]

Survivability Bias Pt 8

Masterpost - Ao3

“Oh, hey!” Superboy says, hours later when the last of the pizza is long-since finished, and their excited chatter has settled into a slow roll of conversation. “Now that you have a whole civilian identity and everything, I figured I should introduce myself!” Danny blinks as his friend grins over at him. It’s not hard to realize what Superboy’s implying, but...

“You don’t have to do that,” Danny says, shaking his head. “I’m not- you shouldn’t compromise yourself like that.”

“I mean sure,” Superboy says, looking confused. “But what good is a secret identity if you don’t get to use it to hang out with your friends? It’d be a compromise to your identity if we’re showing up here all the time in costume.”

“Yeah but we can still hang out elsewhere, right?” Danny points out, voice cracking on the echoes of dread. Identities -names- are important; and it’s not like Danny has really told them anything about himself. “Like you can just text me and I can meet you wherever in my own costume!”

“So what,” Superboy says, voice rising in volume, as he begins floating just above the couch. “We both know your entire identity, and you don’t know either of ours? That hardly seems fair! Besides, you’re like half the reason I even got a civilian identity!”

“You don’t-” Danny cuts himself off abruptly. He can’t explain himself. Not without risking everything, and Danny’s not ready. He can’t go back to being on the run yet. His brain cycles on what they’ve said, desperate for a solution, but then he really processes Superboy’s last sentence, and he freezes. “Wait, what the fuck do you mean I’m the reason you have a civilian identity?” Danny can’t quite keep the sheer horror of that revelation out of his voice, and Superboy flinches, eyes going slightly wild as he stares at Danny.

“Shit, no,” Superboy pleads. “It’s not like that!”

“Not like what?” Danny says slowly.

“It’s not- I wasn’t trying to be weird or like, controlling or anything! It’s...” Superboy sighs. “So when I brought the whole identity thing up to Robin, at first he thought I was talking about making one for me? And then later I started thinking about it more, and I thought you would maybe like to have a friend who you could hang out with outside of costume, and then I realized that maybe it would actually be kind of nice to go places without getting recognized and it’s not- you don’t have to. I can keep it to myself if you want.”

Danny stares as Superboy stammers to a stop, the constant movement of his shoulders betraying his fast, sharp breaths. A glance to the side shows that Robin is watching them both that same intense, emotionless gaze. He stares for a moment, before leaning forward to place a hand on Superboy’s shoulder, and Danny can actually see the instantaneous effect as Superboy’s shoulders freeze and his panicked eyes snap shut.

“Deep breaths,” Robin murmurs, waiting silently as Superboy fights to get his breathing under control. “Danny, perhaps you could explain what upset you just now?” Danny blinks, staring at the two, throat coated with an icy barrier of misery and loneliness. Whatever is happening right now is something he doesn’t understand, and it’s been so long. His friends, Sam and Tucker - he doesn’t think he’d ever realized quite how lucky he was to have friends so old that he just understood them. 

“I wasn’t,” Danny begins, words slipping out around the ice and ending up far too small, too silent. He swallows, tries again, but his voice remains choked and quiet, so he takes a deep breath and forces himself to continue anyways. “I just. You’ve been a hero for ages according to the internet, so I kind of feel like you not having an identity is fucking concerning, you know?”

Superboy stares at him as he speaks, and no understanding materializes on his face. Danny doesn’t think he’s wrong. This world has so many heroes. Surely they would be more aware of the necessity for anonymity than Danny himself is. But he also isn’t from here. Danny glances over to Robin, but his expression is still unreadable.

“He’s not wrong,” Robin says, quiet but firm, eyes fixed on Superboy. “It was understandable that they didn’t want to just drop you into the normal world at first, but there’s no reason why you shouldn’t have a legal identity by now.”

“So that’s not the norm, then?” Danny presses, as calmly as he can. Maybe it would be better to keep his mouth shut, let the two friends have the moment, but he needs to know. “Like you and the other heroes have normal identities?”

“For the most part,” Robin answers steadily. “However, most people are generally civilians first and only become heroes later, so it is typically not in the Justice League’s hands to provide such documentation. Still, they have provided such assistance before, on occasion.”

“So why didn’t-”

“Superboy joined the Justice League organization in unique circumstances that are his to disclose,” Robin cuts him off. “While I would defend the existence of the Justice League to my last breath, they are as fallible as any other group, and have certainly been responsible for their fair share of mistakes. In Superboy’s case, I am of the opinion that they have dropped the ball on his behalf quite significantly.”

“Yeah, I guess it would be unfair to expect them to be perfect...” Danny murmurs.

“I didn’t ask, though,” Superboy says, drawing their attention back towards him. “That’s hardly their fault.”

“You shouldn’t have had to ask.” Robin responds immediately. “You are, functionally still a minor. The second they accepted responsibility for you that should mean ensuring that your human rights are respected. Realistically after pulling you from the lab, they should have immediately instigated paperwork to ensure you legally exist.”

“But I don’t need to legally exist? Like the Justice League takes care of everything for me so it’s fine.”

“But if it wasn’t fine,” Danny says, desperately. “If the Justice League isn’t good, or if it got corrupted or, like, taken over by a force that hated you? If the people who control your legal existence decide they want you dead, you’re kind of fucked.”

“It’s about control,” Robin adds. “If you don’t exist outside the Justice League, then you don’t have resources to enable you to leave, were you to decide that you didn’t want to be a hero. As long as you don’t have a legal identity, you remain reliant upon the Justice League alone.”

“And that’s... bad.” Superboy says quietly, frowning.

“Yes.” 

“Okay.” Superboy says, still looking confused.

“Um,” Danny says, instead of pushing the topic any harder. “If you still want to share your identity with me, you can. I just, like, didn’t want you to feel like you had to.”

“Yeah?” Superboy asks, then at Danny’s nod he pulls his posture back into his usual facsimile of cool confidence.

“It’s nice to meet you Danny,” Superboy says, offering his hand. “I’m Conner Lee.” Danny reaches out to meet Conner’s hand.

“It’s very nice to meet you, Conner.”

The next morning, Danny finds himself waking slowly, awash in the warm comfort of a real bed. It feels almost absurd how pleasant the experience seems now, compared to how normal it used to be. Still, the calm silence of his apartment makes for a stark difference to the way things were back home. There’s no distant shouting from his parents, and certainly none of the constant shift of machinery, or the sudden and unexpected arrival of a ghostly threat pulling him out of sleep.

Instead, Danny blinks heavily eyelids and presses himself even further into the cocoon of blankets wrapped around him. Warm and sleepy, he marvels at the notion that he could just spend the entire day in bed if he wanted to. It’s a thought that’s almost intoxicating. Sure he’s got to eventually start on his schoolwork and get a job, but right now, in this moment, he has no absolutely no responsibilities.

It doesn’t take long for Danny to find his thoughts drifting back towards last night. The day had been, resoundingly, a lot. The sudden acquisition of a real home is obvious and feels absolutely incredible, but really Danny can’t stop thinking about the revelations regarding his friend. Knowing Conner’s name is sort of terrifying, and Danny knows he won’t feel truly comfortable with it anytime soon, but it clearly meant a lot to Conner, and fuck if he’s not willing to suffer discomfort for the sake of a friend.

Besides, he can’t deny that it feels a lot more natural to think of him as Conner than Superboy. Based on everything else that was said yesterday, he has to imagine that Superboy wasn’t a name Conner had chosen for himself. It’s not really a name that can comfortably follow him into adulthood, after all, and really, he’s already old enough that it would probably grate against most people. Danny can’t imagine many teenagers he’s met appreciating a name with ‘boy’ in it. Of course, the connotation of the term could always be different here, and it is probably the closest analog to Superman that they could get. But then, Robin isn’t called Batboy. Though that may just be that the particular combination sounds awful in and of itself.

Really, it reminds him of Dani, and the way she’d strained against her position in his life. He’d cared for the girl very much ー had felt horrible about how she’d been created and used by Vlad, just to fuck with him, and he’d understood when she’d been desperate to get out of Amity. He’d missed her, of course, but not for one second would he have begrudged her that freedom. Jazz had pointed out, pretty early on, how it was probably better for her to be off somewhere she could be something other than somebody’s clone. And sure, Conner’s situation is obviously going to be different than the particular brand of fuckery Danny has going on, but he wonders if the other boy has ever started to chafe against the clear comparisons people seem to be making between him and Superman. After all, from everything Danny’s read, it’s a hell of a legacy to live up to. But then again, if he’d felt so comfortable as Superboy that he’d never bothered to push for his own name, maybe he doesn’t feel that way at all.

Maybe one day they’ll be close enough for Danny to ask. After the stress of last night, it probably shouldn’t be anytime soon, though. For now Danny basks, in the slowly strengthening light of early morning. Outside, birds call out to each other ー birds that have served as Danny’s alarm clock for weeks. He listens to their conversations, pulling the comforter tighter around him, but as he does so, a sensation of wrongness washes over him. The comforter, heavy and solid, begins to slip through his fingers, and at his shoulders the tension in the fabric starts to lessen.

“What?” Danny mutters, frowning in confusion. The sensation in his hands feels like his intangibility, but he knows he didn’t instigate it himself. Danny frowns, trying to remember the last time he’d lost control of his powers. There had, of course, been some aftereffects the last time he’d gotten captured. The GIW had picked up Vlad’s habit of shocking him and ran hard with it, to the point that Danny hadn’t felt normal again for more than a week after his friends had gotten him out. But that had been a unique circumstance, and Danny’s pretty damn certain he hasn’t been shocked any time recently. Having his powers act up on their own is something Danny hasn’t struggled with since those early months after the portal incident.

“No.” Danny chokes out, as he feels the intangibility spreading up his arms to his shoulders. He’s free. He’s safe. This can’t be happening now. He’s been so fucking careful, he can’t lose his chance at being normal to a stupid fucking rogue power. But Danny can feel the intangibility sinking into his back, slipping Danny into that space where he can’t quite touch anything. The once-cozy folds of the comforter slowly fall through him, as Danny loses the last remnant of his tangibility.

Frantically, Danny launches himself up from the bed. He has to get out of here. Has to find somewhere to hide, can’t risk his brand new normal life because of this bullshit. But instead of slipping through to the sky above, Danny feels the crack of his skull against the solid mass of the ceiling, and he crashes back down to the bed below.

“Fuck, ow, ow, ow.” Danny mutters, curling in on himself to cradle his throbbing head. Pain lances up and down in steady pulses, erasing any other sensations from his awareness as he whines. He counts the prime numbers carefully in his head, as the best distraction he can manage from the pulsing pain, until it begins to dull. His newly acquired headache will undoubtedly be with him all day, but at least he shouldn’t need a doctor. Accelerated healing is occasionally useful.

By the time Danny feels steady enough to get up, the sunlight filtering into his room is full-strength and the clock on his nightstand informs him that it’s nearly seven thirty. Panic sets in very briefly as the blinking red numbers trigger a long-ingrained fear of being late, and Danny’s halfway through his scramble to get dressed before he remembers he has nowhere to be. Robin had said he could start his coursework whenever he was ready ー apparently all his assignments were due at the end of the semester and in the meantime he could just progress as he liked. It sounded like an extremely impractical setup to Danny; he can just imagine how many of his classmates would have taken the opportunity to slack off and ended up never turning anything in, but then, he supposes the consequences of that would have rung true when they failed the class. It’s a trade-off, he supposes. Exceptional freedom, in exchange for a hell of a lot of personal responsibility. Kind of fitting, considering his now-emancipated status.

So, Danny has all the time in the world. But if he intends to hold to his determination to do well, he probably should at least look at the workload today, and start making up a schedule for getting it all done. Still, he’s not in a rush. He has time for breakfast, at the very least.

Danny plods to the kitchen, doing his best to think around the ache in his head. Robin had definitely mentioned stocking the kitchen with essentials, though Danny has no clue what the other boy would have considered essentials. Robin seems like a frighteningly competent kind of person, so who’s to say whether he prepared for Danny’s absolutely tragic levels of incompetence in the kitchen. He’s actually a little bit excited at the prospect of being able to actually learn to cook, but at the moment he thinks he’d prefer literally anything pre-made.

Still, it’s probably good to know what his options are so he heads over to explore his refrigerator. The shelves are neatly organized (hardly surprising) but Danny realizes as he observes the contents, that he really has no clue what normal people should have in their fridge. Milk, Danny’s used to, since you need it for cereal, and it’s not dead enough to be likely to come back to life, but his family’s ever-present fare of hotdogs are notably missing from the lineup. Instead he finds a carton of eggs, and a couple jars of jam, which both seem logical enough, but Danny has no clue what Robin’s expectations are of the handful of myriad fruits and vegetables he sees. There’s two apples and three lemons on the top shelf, and Danny’s pretty sure he sees some potatoes in one of the drawers. A closer glance reveals that he’s not only got potatoes, but also a handful of carrots, two onions, and a couple of yellow and green cucumbers.

Danny considers them with acute bemusement. He can imagine Jazz praising Robin’s choices, though Danny has absolutely no clue what to do with yellow cucumbers, since he didn’t even know they existed. After a moment's consideration, Danny decides to check the freezer too, and is surprised to find a box of frozen waffles, some sausage patties, and a couple bags of frozen fruit chunks.

The cupboards are a bit slower to go through, but he quickly decides the review was well worth it when he discovers a cabinet that contains some simple first aid equipment. He may burn through painkillers faster than he used to, but with any luck by the time they wear off, Danny’s headache will be down to easily ignorable margins.

“Robin is my favorite superhero,” Danny mutters, swallowing the pills, and considering his options. There’d been a large assortment of canned goods, which Danny hadn’t bothered to really look through yet, as well as peanut butter, syrup, and some other unopened sauces in the cupboards. Danny had also managed to identify where most of his dishes were, and a surprising number of cooking utensils. The pans had come with a little note warning him to not use metal on their nonstick surfaces ‘lest you invoke the wrath of my grandfather.’ The warning was ominous but also kind of adorable. Robin had shown no inclination to reveal his own identity to Danny, but he had no doubts that this mention of his family was an intentional move on his part. Danny can certainly understand the other boy wanting to protect his family from hero stuff, though Danny hopes for Robin’s sake, they at least know about his work.

He carefully transfers the sticky note to the fridge, but decides not to brave the stove just yet. As nice an addition as eggs would be, for today Danny will happily settle with waffles and sausage. He gets the waffles started in the toaster, and follows the simple instruction on the sausage bag, to reheat them in the microwave, but as the waffles toast, Danny glances back over at the freezer. He’s never tried making a smoothie before, but how hard could it be? He’d found a little personal-sized blender in one of the cupboards - the kind that’s specifically designed for smoothies, and between the fruit and the milk, he can probably make something tolerable.

By the time Danny is satisfied with his smoothie, the waffles are ready too, and Danny carefully adds them to the plate with the sausage, and then gleefully smothers the lot in syrup and digs in. Eventually, he’s consumed the last of his sausage, and Danny carries the plate to the sink, and drops it in. He should probably put it in the dishwasher now, but the folder Robin had left him has been staring him down the entire time he was eating, and Danny’s desperate to examine the contents, so instead just walks away, grabbing the folder and opening it, sitting himself at the stool he wasn’t just eating at.

Just as Robin had told him, the left side of the folder contains a number of important documents, from a birth certificate, to an emancipation order, and tucked in the front is his very own US Passport. Danny stares at it for a long moment, his own face gazing back at him from the photo Robin had taken a couple weeks ago. He picks it up and cradles it in his hands, before setting it carefully to the side. 

On the right side of the folder, Danny pulls out a thick document that must be his lease. Paper-clipped to the front of it is a separate page that seems to be explaining the terms and conditions in much simpler terms, probably courtesy of Robin, again. He certainly appreciates the simple run-down of what he is and isn’t allowed to do, because Danny hadn’t even thought about that aspect of renting. He reads through it, then takes it over to the fridge to attach it with one of the magnets.

Beneath the lease, Danny finds more paperwork with an attached sticky note. This is the necessary paperwork to set up a bank account for yourself. Just sign and initial in the highlighted locations, mail it to the listed address, and you should get confirmation in a few days.

The next paper, Danny quickly discovers, is a compiled list of possible workplaces in Concord, with notes about how well they treat their employees. That will definitely be useful soon enough. The idea of an actual job is a little scary, but Danny’s determined to earn his own money, and he certainly doesn’t know the first thing about how to recognize a good workplace.

The rest of the papers are similar notes of useful locations in the city, as well as some possible resources for anything he needs help with, including the names and contact info for a couple organizations that defend meta rights. Danny will probably have to look them up later, but for now, he reorganizes the paperwork all back into the folder, and takes it to his office. He doesn’t want to leave all this important stuff out on the counter, but he’s definitely got work to do.

He takes the time to sign the bank paperwork first, and once he’s got it in the pre-addressed envelope Robin had left him, he takes it off to find the mailbox. Luckily for Danny, it’s very visible from the front entrance to his building, but once he’s slipped the envelope through the slot, Danny takes a deep breath. It’s a nice day outside, and it feels a little weird to have spent so long inside today, so instead of heading back in Danny, decides to wander over to the park. His head is still throbbing enough that he probably shouldn’t do any running, but walking is still kind of nice, and the crisp fall air feels good. 

Once he’s back home, Danny opens his laptop carefully, the planner Robin had gifted him carefully nestled in his lap. Danny’s school login is carefully noted on the front page, and soon Danny is clicking around the website familiarizing himself with the layout. It seems pretty straightforward and intuitive, which is a huge relief. He finds the syllabus page, and quickly copies out the important details into the notes section of his planner. The contact info for his teacher is useful and kind of surprising, though Danny supposes it makes a lot more sense in an online learning environment. After all, there’s always the chance of the website crashing.

He’s pleasantly surprised to discover his teachers do include a suggested timeline for his work. He’d been assuming he’d have to work up a schedule for getting it done reasonably, but instead, he flips to the calendar section and notes down the various dates his teachers have listed. He’ll still have to fudge it to account for the month and a half they already are into the semester, but the suggested dates offer Danny a starting point that accounts for how long his teachers expect different assignments to take him.

A couple hours later, Danny finally finishes filling out the last week of the semester. He’s got two final projects so-to-speak and three tests, though Danny is still reeling at the discovery that all his tests are intended to be open book. He supposes that’s easier than trying to monitor online students for cheating, but the idea is still bemusing to him.

With a deep breath, Danny flips back to the current week, and reviews his list of work to get done. Deciding to start himself off easy, he picks one of the science assignments, and locates the corresponding document on the website. There is, after all, no time like the present. So Danny settles in to read the instructions, ready to prove that he really can succeed at school, when he doesn’t have to worry about ghost attacks.

[the-most-humble-blog]

🚨 If a Non-Male Starts a Debate with "A Real Man Should, or Would Do…"—Step Back, You’re About to Get Nonsense on Your Shoes. 🚨

A PSA for Every Man Who’s Tired of Being Lectured About Manhood by People Who Have Never Had to Be One

📌 THE SETUP: HERE COMES THE BULLSH*T

There you are. Minding your own business. Maybe you’re in the middle of a conversation. Maybe you made a comment online. Maybe you simply existed too confidently in public.

🚨 Then it happens. 🚨

A non-male (or, occasionally, a deeply misguided man who has fully assimilated into the Cult of Delusion) utters the cursed phrase:

📢 “A real man should…” 📢 “A real man would…”

🚨 WARNING: This is not a debate. This is a trap. 🚨

Your instinct might be to engage, correct, or challenge the incoming nonsense.

Don’t.

Why? Because you are not about to hear wisdom. You are about to hear some of the most ass-backward, reality-detached drivel to ever escape human lips.

It’s going to be: ❌ Unhinged ❌ Incoherent ❌ Surgically engineered to benefit only the speaker

And worst of all? It will not be based on what men actually think, feel, or experience.

📌 THE “REAL MAN” SPEECH: A DEEP DIVE INTO WEAPONIZED NONSENSE

Here’s what you can expect from the “A Real Man Should…” starter pack:

1️⃣ “A Real Man Should Always Pay for Everything”

Ah yes. The classic gold-digger anthem.

According to this logic, a man’s worth is measured exclusively by his willingness to hemorrhage cash for someone who: 📌 Talks about independence but won’t touch a check 📌 Thinks equality is great—until the bill arrives 📌 Believes her presence alone is a form of currency

🚨 Spoiler Alert: A real man should recognize a walking financial liability when he sees one.

2️⃣ “A Real Man Should Accept That Women Are Superior”

Translation: “I want the privileges of being pedestalized while also being immune to criticism.”

❌ Equality? No thanks. ❌ Fairness? Not interested. ❌ A relationship built on mutual respect? BORING.

The goal here is not to uplift women—it’s to emotionally neuter men so they will never challenge, disagree, or even have personal boundaries.

🚨 A real man doesn’t need to be told he’s lesser to validate someone else’s delusions.

3️⃣ “A Real Man Should Never Cry” (Unless It Benefits Me)

Oh, this one is extra rich.

You’ll hear two versions of this contradictory nonsense:

📢 Version A: "Men should never show emotions, ever. Weakness is disgusting." 📢 Version B: "Men should cry more! Be vulnerable! Why won’t you open up?"

But let’s examine the fine print:

📌 If a man shows too much emotion, he’s unstable. 📌 If a man shows too little emotion, he’s cold and unloving. 📌 If a man shows emotion at the wrong time (i.e., when he’s the one struggling), suddenly it’s “Ugh, I can’t deal with this right now.”

Translation: "I want men to be emotional when it benefits me, and emotionally invincible when I don’t want to deal with their problems."

🚨 A real man processes his emotions in a way that works for HIM, not based on the shifting expectations of people who see him as a tool.

4️⃣ “A Real Man Should Always Protect Women” (Even if She Treats Him Like Trash)

Ah yes, the disposable bodyguard fantasy.

🚨 Reminder: Protection is earned, not owed. 🚨

📌 If you treat men like walking ATMs and security personnel, don’t be surprised when they stop volunteering for the job. 📌 If you refuse to listen to men, respect men, or even acknowledge their struggles, don’t expect them to throw themselves into harm’s way for you. 📌 If you believe all men are “toxic,” then congrats—you are not entitled to one’s protection when sh*t hits the fan.

A real man should protect those who respect him. That’s it.

5️⃣ “A Real Man Would NEVER Date Younger/Thinner/More Feminine Women”

Oh no. A man is making choices for himself. A man is valuing what he actually finds attractive instead of what society tells him to accept. 🚨 Sound the alarm! 🚨

This one is about CONTROL.

If a man’s standards disqualify the person speaking, suddenly his preferences become: 📌 “Patriarchal brainwashing” 📌 “Misogyny” 📌 “Unrealistic”

🚨 A real man isn’t guilt-tripped into dating people he’s not attracted to.

📌 WHY “A REAL MAN SHOULD” IS ALWAYS BULLSH*T

Let’s get to the core truth of it all.

📢 Every single time someone says, “A real man should…” what they actually mean is, “Men should behave in a way that benefits ME.”

❌ It is never about what men actually want. ❌ It is never about what’s logical or fair. ❌ It is always about reprogramming men into something weak, compliant, and useful to others.

That’s why none of these rules apply universally.

📌 If a rich, powerful man breaks these “rules,” suddenly they don’t apply. 📌 If an attractive man breaks them, suddenly nobody cares. 📌 But if an average guy says “No thanks” to these ridiculous standards? OUTRAGE.

🚨 Because the game was never about fairness. It was always about control.

📌 FINAL VERDICT: IF SOMEONE TELLS YOU WHAT “A REAL MAN” SHOULD BE—BLOCK & WALK AWAY

If you’re a man, understand this:

📢 You don’t owe anyone an explanation for who you are. 📢 You don’t have to twist yourself into knots trying to be someone else’s fantasy. 📢 You are not obligated to meet the standards of people who see you as nothing more than a resource.

👉 You define what being a man means to YOU.

If someone starts a conversation with “A real man should…”

💀 Step back. 💀 Let them spill their nonsense somewhere else. 💀 Try not to get it on your shoes.

Because at the end of the day?

🚨 A REAL MAN DOESN’T GIVE A F*CK ABOUT WHAT FRAUDS THINK HE “SHOULD” DO. 🚨

🔥 REBLOG if you’re tired of fake “real man” lectures. 🔥 FOLLOW [The Most Humble Blog] for unfiltered, nuclear-grade truth bombs. 🔥 COMMENT if you’ve ever been hit with one of these “real man” BS arguments.

💀 You either define manhood for yourself, or you let people who don’t even respect men do it for you.

🚀 Choose wisely. 🚀

[seitmai]

Many thoughts

“I mean, you don’t have to tell me. I’m just wondering how threesomes even happen. I’ve never had one, thought about it I guess but like.. who executes the idea? Do you talk about it beforehand or does it just happen? Who makes sure it’s fair?”

I wonder the same things, so I think these are 100% fair questions haha

Steve let out a hard laugh. “When I’m involved, everyone has always had a good time. It’s been fair.”

Period 😌

“Steve.” You groaned out his name. “Just tell me. Who is she?” Steve’s lips grew into a small smirk as he gave you a sideways glance. “Not a she.” You gasped, sitting up on your knees at his side. “What? Who? Oh my god, I shouldn’t have just assumed it was a woman.” You stopped your train of thought and narrowed your eyes. “Wait. Oh my god. Oh my god! Is it Bucky?”

That sounds about right 🤭

“Ahh!!” You tapped your hand on his shoulder, excited. “That makes so much sense. You two have such a close friendship and honestly, that’s..” You let out a long breath, closing your eyes for a second. “That’s really hot. You and Bucky. Damn.”

Facts

Steve shifted slightly in his position, raising an eyebrow and watching as you grew excited beside him on the couch. “Sorry? That’s really what?” “Steve.” You opened one eye and looked at him quickly. “You heard me. Listen, I’m not blind. Bucky is attractive. But don’t– I’m not, like, attracted to him. Okay, well, I am but not like that.” “Like how then?” Steve couldn’t help but make you squirm about this whole topic now. It was something he hadn’t ever considered with you - sharing your intimacy with anyone else. Mostly because the idea of any other person on the planet even looking at you like that made him fire up with a possessive side he had a hard time hiding. But… Bucky wasn’t just anyone. 

This sounds promising 👀

There was a certain thrill that Bucky and Steve used to share when they’d do this together. The experiences were never really planned but Steve knew if someone caught his eye that Bucky would be interested in just as much as he was, and they were both in the mood for a little extra fun, then it was only fair to throw it on the table. They had their own signal, even. A quick side hug with a keyword dropped into the conversation, followed by a confirmation double ear tug.

Omg I love their secret code 😍

You pulled back slightly. “What?” It looked like your mind was misfiring as you found your words. “But.. wouldn’t that be weird? Also.. wait. Are you – Hmm. It sounds fun but kind of scary and.. How do you even start and..” You paused and closed your eyes again. “Would Bucky even want to… with me..? Am I even his type?” “Sweetheart,” Steve turned directly to you, grasping your hands in his. “You have no idea.”

Oh 👀

“Wanna switch it up?” Steve asked slowly, turning his head to meet Bucky’s eyes. “Maybe we split a grapefruit sidecar?” Bucky nearly choked as he turned to face Steve directly. “What? Rogers, I’m not going to .. If you are planning to fuck this up with your girl over some other broad.. I’m going to fuckin’ kick your ass and–” Steve brought his hands up to stop Bucky from doing exactly that. “Jesus, Buck. Don’t think so fucking little of me, punk.” Steve rolled his neck then leaned in closer. “This invite is coming from me and my girl.”

I love how Bucky jumps to her defense so quickly

Steve grinned, raising his eyebrows up for a brief moment. “You need a second to mull it over?” Bucky blinked, clearly letting his mind catch up. He quickly discarded his glass on the bar and raised his hand to tug on his earlobe. “Stevie, you know I’d never admit to having impure thoughts about your girl but..”

Well, say it now or hold your peace 🤭😌

You had always been aware of how attractive Bucky was. You were a normal, warm blooded woman after all. But there was something even hotter about seeing him cross through the doorway, knowing full well what intentions you all shared. And the fact that Bucky looked nervous, like his confidence wasn’t guarding him as it usually did, made it all feel even better.

This is gonna be so good 😌

Steve lowered his voice, leaning down to whisper in your ear. “Baby, what do you want? You wanna help Bucky feel even better?” Holy fuck, you did. You really did. Jesus Christ almighty, the whole concept of Steve encouraging you to put your mouth on Bucky was electric. 

😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨

Bucky swallowed hard, sparing another glance towards Steve before looking back at you. He sucked in a breath then reached his hand out to steady your chin. “Only if you want to, doll.” You couldn’t help but smile, genuinely. Despite being on your knees in front of him, you were grateful that Bucky was still confirming your own interest in this whole thing.

Consent is sexy!!

“For her knees, you dumbass,” Steve laughed, and you couldn’t help but join in. “Oh, fuck. Sorry,” Bucky mumbled, helping you position it under your knees.

This just shows how nervous/out of it Bucky is and it's really cute 😍

Something about the way Bucky talked about you and Steve really riled you up.

Yeah because that's really hot🔥

He collapsed against the couch, eyes blown open wide. “Holy fucking shit. Stevie, the mouth on your girl..” “You can address your compliments to her directly, Buck,” Steve laughed, standing from where he had been sitting in his chair and coming over to help you up. “You might have made his brain malfunction, sweetheart.”

And Steve couldn't be prouder 😌

You smiled proudly, meeting Steve’s lips for a kiss. You leaned against him again, tilting your head up to him. “Need you inside me, please?” “Yeah?” Steve asked. His hand rested against the base of your neck, holding you flush against his chest. “And can Bucky watch?” You couldn’t help but giggle and nod.

Let's give him a show 🤭

“I’m gonna slide right in, baby,” he breathed against your neck, swirling his fingers around your clit. “Maybe next time, we do this at the same time. Do you want to try that? Bucky in your mouth while you’re full of me?”

 Between your own moaning and Steve’s, you could barely hear Bucky across the room but he said your name out loud. You met his eyes as he was rubbing his shaft. Bucky smirked, biting his lip as he watched you bounce against the desk. “Gonna let me feel that pussy next time?”

🥵🥵🥵

Your climax felt volcanic - a flurry of neurons firing off in your brain as you quivered, safely pressed against the desk as the weight of Steve covered you like a warm blanket. He came right after, growling in your ear as he spilled into you. Steve stayed in place after, as if unable to let go as he caught his breath.  You leaned back into the soft leather chair, eyes closed as you grinned.

What a high to bask in 😌🤤

There was a shift, though. When Bucky opened the car door for you, exchanging another smirk with Steve. Something in the air felt different.

 Steve kneeled before you, pressing a kiss to the side of your knee as he fixed your skirt.  “Baby, you okay?” You opened your eyes and looked down. He was flush and seemed awfully content. You weren’t sure you had ever seen him smile like that before.  You bit your lip, resisting your urge to scream with joy. You glanced from Steve over to Bucky. He was still sitting on the couch, though his pants were done up and buckled again. “I’m really good. Like, wow. Great. Amazing.”

🥰🥰🥰

Oh i can't wait for more of their shenanigans 🤭👀

grapefruit sidecar (part 1)

part of the Sink Into Me universe

Pairing: mob boss! Steve Rogers x plus size! reader x mob! Bucky Barnes

Summary: It was just an innocent question. You definitely didn't have any ulterior motives: “Have you ever had a threesome?” But when Steve admits something from his past with Bucky, you can't help but wonder...

Part 1: The Club | Part 2: The Penthouse

Warnings: 18+!!! established relationship (Steve x reader), MFM threesome shenanigans

Notes: here we gooooo! I don't think you *need* to read Sink Into Me to enjoy this two part series, but hey - feel free to read it! enjoy! and yes in my mind these two fuck like owen gray and small hands what who said that

--

“Have you ever had a threesome?”

The question came from your lips so casually, so innocently that Steve wasn’t sure he had heard you correctly. He stilled his pen and lifted his eyes to you, curled up in the corner of the couch in his office. 

You were typing away on your phone, nursing the tail end of a hangover. Steve had insisted he could take you home to have a nap following the late brunch you shared together, but you insisted you wanted to just orbit near him for the rest of the day. 

He couldn’t say no to that. But he also couldn’t keep putting off some paperwork, so armed with an oversized iced tea for hydration, you made yourself comfortable on the couch while he worked. And now he knew exactly why you had encouraged him to get a nice throw blanket to keep at the office too. 

Steve cleared his throat, finally drawing your eyes to his. You gave him a cheeky smile. 

“And where is that question coming from?”

“Uhm,” you started slowly, sitting up a bit straighter as you put your phone down. “A weird turn of topics in the group chat with the girls.” 

Something about your smile made Steve think that wasn’t the whole truth. 

He laughed. Okay, he’d play along. “And is my response going to be the next topic in the group chat with the girls?” 

You shook your head. “I wouldn’t do that. Just because Maria loves updating us on her sex life constantly, doesn’t mean I contribute the same way. Scouts honour.” 

Steve pushed back on his chair and stood, removing his glasses as he walked over to join you. 

“Weird place for pillow talk,” he said, planting himself beside you on the couch. You were quick to adjust and cozy up at his side. “But yes, I’ve had a threesome. More than one.”

“Oooh. With who?”

One of his eyebrows shot up, scanning your curious wide eyes. “Sweetheart.”

“I mean, you don’t have to tell me. I’m just wondering how threesomes even happen. I’ve never had one, thought about it I guess but like.. who executes the idea? Do you talk about it beforehand or does it just happen? Who makes sure it’s fair?”

Steve let out a hard laugh. “When I’m involved, everyone has always had a good time. It’s been fair.”

“Okay but with who?”

He hesitated. 

“Come onnnnn. Who was it? When was it? Wait. Have you had more than one? Was it with someone I know? You know I don’t care about your history with Sharon. She probably has some attractive girlfriends.”

Steve blew out a breath. What did he have to lose here? You and him were both typically very secure in your relationship, but he still didn’t want to unintentionally hurt any feelings. 

“Okay. If you really want to know.” He shook his head, somehow confused he was even talking to you about this. “I’ve had a few. Haven’t happened in a while, usually there are just certain circumstances where… It happened organically. With a repeat participant.” 

You nodded, eager. “Whoooo?”

“Usually it was me, and that repeat participant, and a nice girl we found at the club.”

“Steve.” You groaned out his name. “Just tell me. Who is she?”

Steve’s lips grew into a small smirk as he gave you a sideways glance. “Not a she.”

You gasped, sitting up on your knees at his side. “What? Who? Oh my god, I shouldn’t have just assumed it was a woman.” You stopped your train of thought and narrowed your eyes. “Wait. Oh my god. Oh my god! Is it Bucky?”

Steve raised his eyebrows then gave you a slow nod.

“Ahh!!” You tapped your hand on his shoulder, excited. “That makes so much sense. You two have such a close friendship and honestly, that’s..” You let out a long breath, closing your eyes for a second. “That’s really hot. You and Bucky. Damn.”

Steve shifted slightly in his position, raising an eyebrow and watching as you grew excited beside him on the couch. “Sorry? That’s really what?”

“Steve.” You opened one eye and looked at him quickly. “You heard me. Listen, I’m not blind. Bucky is attractive. But don’t– I’m not, like, attracted to him. Okay, well, I am but not like that.”

“Like how then?” Steve couldn’t help but make you squirm about this whole topic now. It was something he hadn’t ever considered with you - sharing your intimacy with anyone else. Mostly because the idea of any other person on the planet even looking at you like that made him fire up with a possessive side he had a hard time hiding. But… Bucky wasn’t just anyone. 

There was a certain thrill that Bucky and Steve used to share when they’d do this together. The experiences were never really planned but Steve knew if someone caught his eye that Bucky would be interested in just as much as he was, and they were both in the mood for a little extra fun, then it was only fair to throw it on the table. They had their own signal, even. A quick side hug with a keyword dropped into the conversation, followed by a confirmation double ear tug.

It had always been a sober choice, too. 

“Stop,” you replied quietly, leaning into Steve’s shoulder again. “Forget I said anything.”

“I can forget it.. If that’s what you want.” He extended his hand to prop your chin up, encouraging you to look him in the eyes again. “But if it’s something you want to discuss further..”

You pulled back slightly. “What?” It looked like your mind was misfiring as you found your words. “But.. wouldn’t that be weird? Also.. wait. Are you – Hmm. It sounds fun but kind of scary and.. How do you even start and..” You paused and closed your eyes again. “Would Bucky even want to… with me..? Am I even his type?”

“Sweetheart,” Steve turned directly to you, grasping your hands in his. “You have no idea.”

—

Steve knew the right moment would present itself. Because the millisecond you had started the conversation with him about it, he had a feeling it would happen eventually. But, it was important that the timing was just right.

Mostly because he didn’t want you to worry or panic about it. In fact, in the few conversations you and Steve had shared about the entire threesome topic, he had made it abundantly clear that you would be in charge. That was usually the method Steve and Bucky followed anyway, depending on the third person sharing a bed with them.

Really though, after all of this chatter about the possibility, Steve could see your confidence and excitement growing. You had told Steve it was his responsibility to read your energy and Bucky’s to make sure everything felt right. And Steve had suggested maybe easing into the whole thing anyways. Maybe you didn’t go all the way right away. 

But, the right moment had to arrive.

And on a very ordinary Saturday night at the club, things seemed to be aligning. First and foremost, Steve knew you were in a great mood. You had an extra day off, you’d recently finished a big project at work and Steve had even just surprised you with a shopping spree. He knew how rarely you spent money on yourself, especially for new pieces of clothing. He had been especially generous when it came to a few pieces of lingerie. 

One set specifically he knew you had on under that new dress. While the club wasn’t always your preferred location for a Saturday night, you had been the one to suggest it this time. You wanted to dance with your girls and who was Steve to hold you back?

As for Bucky, Steve knew his friend had recently gone on a few bumpy first dates. First dates that didn’t deliver because it was clear from Bucky’s on and off grumpy mood that he was pretty pent up. Steve knew it was still a shot in the dark if Bucky would want to participate, but maybe he’d want to let off some steam and have fun.

So, when it was early enough in the night that both you and Bucky hadn’t yet overindulged, Steve started to put a plan into action.

When you came back upstairs to his private area for a break from the dance floor, Steve handed you a glass of water. 

“I’m cutting you off,” he whispered into your ear.

“I’ve only had one glass of –”

“Baby..” Steve pressed a kiss against your neck. “Just trust me. You go back down and dance while I chat with Bucky.”

You let out a small gasp, reaching out to grab the lapel of Steve’s suit. “Wait. Really? Are we–”

Steve cut you off with a kiss, then motioned towards the dancefloor. You gave him a coy smile over your shoulder as you hurried down to find Wanda and Maria again.

With a deep breath, Steve ran a hand through his hair then headed towards the bar. Bucky had his back against the counter, sipping a rocks glass as he surveyed the space. Steve stopped at Bucky’s side, giving him a small nudge on the arm.

“What are you drinkin’?” Steve prompted, matching Bucky’s pose.

Bucky furrowed his brow, turning to look at Steve. “Whiskey.”

“Wanna switch it up?” Steve asked slowly, turning his head to meet Bucky’s eyes. “Maybe we split a grapefruit sidecar?”

Bucky nearly choked as he turned to face Steve directly. “What? Rogers, I’m not going to .. If you are planning to fuck this up with your girl over some other broad.. I’m going to fuckin’ kick your ass and–”

Steve brought his hands up to stop Bucky from doing exactly that. “Jesus, Buck. Don’t think so fucking little of me, punk.” Steve rolled his neck then leaned in closer. “This invite is coming from me and my girl.”

Bucky’s eyes blew open, mouth slightly agape as he looked at Steve. “Are you serious?”

Steve grinned, raising his eyebrows up for a brief moment. “You need a second to mull it over?”

Bucky blinked, clearly letting his mind catch up. He quickly discarded his glass on the bar and raised his hand to tug on his earlobe. “Stevie, you know I’d never admit to having impure thoughts about your girl but..”

Steve laughed then grasped Bucky’s shoulder. “My office. 20 minutes.”

–

Steve came and found you on the dancefloor not long after he had pitched that tonight would be the night. And holy shit, you couldn’t believe it. You were buzzing with more than just excitement - there was a flutter of nerves and impossibilities flashing through your mind too.

Even though Steve had quite thoroughly told you how much fun you’d all have, how Bucky would enjoy himself just as much as you would, if not more. Despite those reassurances, you wouldn’t believe it could even happen until, well, it happened.

Now, as you were heading to Steve’s office - there seemed to be some sort of electricity in the air. 

God, you looked hot tonight. That was helping a lot. Out of all the clothes Steve had dropped down cash for, the dress you were wearing had been one of your favourites. It hugged the curves of your body in the most perfect way, with a generous view of your chest and a short hemline that left little to the imagination. You had felt effortlessly sexy in it, especially with the lacy garments underneath threatening to peak out at the top.

Steve’s office was empty when you both arrived, the walls dulling the bass from trickling in from the club. Steve left the big lights off, opting for just lamplight and ambiance from the illuminated Brooklyn skyline seeping in. 

Before you could start nervously pacing, Steve pulled you into his arms. He was leaning against the edge of the desk and you stood between his legs.

“Hey, remember what I said before..” Steve started, slowly tracing his fingers up and down your arms as he kept eye contact with you. “If you change your mind, at any point.. You just say so. And then it’s over, no questions asked.”

You nodded. “I know. Thank you.” As much as you were trying to keep it together, you couldn’t help but giggle. “I’m excited. But I'm nervous, too. How does this start and–”

A knock at the door interrupted your thoughts. After a few seconds, there was a voice.

“It’s, uh, me. Bucky.”

Steve glanced down at you, giving you one last look waiting for your confirmation. You responded with a coy smile and a nod, shifting around to lean against Steve. He draped his arms around you and called out for Bucky to come in.

You had always been aware of how attractive Bucky was. You were a normal, warm blooded woman after all. But there was something even hotter about seeing him cross through the doorway, knowing full well what intentions you all shared. And the fact that Bucky looked nervous, like his confidence wasn’t guarding him as it usually did, made it all feel even better.

Fuck. These men and their suits, too. Bucky was wearing black on black on black and the way his metal arm glinted under the lamplight, you nearly choked.

Bucky shut the door behind him, glancing over his shoulder quickly to look back at Steve. You sensed Steve’s nod, because Bucky made sure to lock the door, too. Then after an awkward silence, Bucky took it upon himself to sit on the couch.

“So,” Steve started, all calm and casual as his fingertips skated against your exposed collarbone. 

All you could do was stare straight ahead at Bucky, watching him watching you and Steve. Fuck, what happened now? How did you cross this line and–

You gasped as Steve’s lips found your neckline, weakening your knees as his tongue and lips explored your skin.

“Sweetheart,” Steve paused, moving one hand down your body and toying with the bottom of your dress. “How are you feeling?”

You whimpered, closing your eyes. “G-good. Yeah, so good.”

Steve grinned against your neck, pressing another kiss under your ear. “Buck?”

You looked back towards Bucky as he took a second to reply. He was already adjusting the top of his jeans, taking in slow breaths. “Yeah, so far so..” When he bit his lip, you nearly collapsed.

Steve lowered his voice, leaning down to whisper in your ear. “Baby, what do you want? You wanna help Bucky feel even better?”

Holy fuck, you did. You really did. Jesus Christ almighty, the whole concept of Steve encouraging you to put your mouth on Bucky was electric. 

“You already makin’ a mess of those nice panties, baby?” You nodded again, looking back up at Steve as he grabbed your neck. “You take care of Bucky then he’ll watch me take care of you. How’s that sound?” 

Your reply was a jumbled up moan of positivity as Steve kissed you again, hard and wet before squeezing your hips and swatting your ass. 

As you walked towards him, Bucky sat up just a bit straighter on the couch. He was still nervous but judging by how he was running his hands down his thighs, you only imagined how excited he was, too.

“Hi Bucky,” you said quietly as you very slowly got down on your knees. “Can I..” You dragged your tongue across your lips, then glanced down at his belt.

Bucky swallowed hard, sparing another glance towards Steve before looking back at you. He sucked in a breath then reached his hand out to steady your chin. “Only if you want to, doll.”

You couldn’t help but smile, genuinely. Despite being on your knees in front of him, you were grateful that Bucky was still confirming your own interest in this whole thing.

“Yes, please.” You nodded and placed your hands on his knees, slowing running them up his slacks until you met his belt buckle.

He was quick to assist you in your task, pulling at his belt and lifting his hips as you yanked on his pants and boxers. His cock was already hard and ready and you couldn’t even help yourself, immediately reaching for it.

“Fuck,” Bucky exhaled, hands clutching the couch as you ran your hands against it.

“Buck,” Steve called out from across the room. “Pillow.”

You looked up at Bucky, who was scrambling to reach out and grab a nearby throw pillow from the opposite side of the couch. Without a second thought, he lifted it to rest behind his head before Steve interrupted him.

“For her knees, you dumbass,” Steve laughed, and you couldn’t help but join in.

“Oh, fuck. Sorry,” Bucky mumbled, helping you position it under your knees.

You didn’t reply, but instead you gave Bucky a sweet smile then got to work. You swiped your tongue around the head of his cock, before trailing it down along the soft silk of his shaft. Then you took a deep breath and slowly opened your lips, sucking on the tip.

Bucky’s hands gripped the couch even tighter, barely resisting the urge to thrust his hips upwards. You appreciated his restraint, though you couldn’t help but feel for him.

Your name left his lips, like a curse word. “Doll..” You felt one of his hands against your jaw. “Look at me.” Your eyes darted up to his and he really cursed this time. “Fuck, oh fuck. Yes, look at you with my cock in your mouth. So fucking sexy.”

That set you off, attempting to take even more of his length into your mouth as you looked at him. Whatever you couldn’t fit, you stroked with one of your hands, fueled by the drool dripping past your lips. 

You got into a groove, shifting through a pattern of swirling your tongue, sucking long and hard and adding in both fists stroking on and off too. Above you, Bucky seemed to be in a euphoric state. And he couldn’t stop praising you for it, either.

“Jesus Christ, doll. This fucking mouth. So pretty, so fucking pretty with a cock in it. You do this for Stevie too, don’t you? You’ve done it right here on this couch haven’t you?” 

Something about the way Bucky talked about you and Steve really riled you up. You hollowed out your cheeks, looking up at Bucky with wide eyes as you waited for him. After a second you, pulled back and grinned.

“I let him fuck my face right here, Bucky. Do you wanna do that too?” 

Bucky licked his lips and grinned right back, grabbing the side of your head ever so gently and guiding you right back down onto his cock. Then, he did exactly what he wanted. His hips thrusted up quickly, moving in and out of your mouth in record time. You gagged against him as he held you there briefly, then slowed down.

“I’m gonna fuckin’ come, doll,” he fell back against the couch as you took over once more, both hands alternating between massaging his balls and stroking up. You took him back into your mouth, sucking harder as Bucky’s moans grew louder. 

“So close, so fucking..” You pulled back and Bucky grabbed his cock with one hand, steadying your open mouth before him with the other. He growled as he came, hard. You stuck your tongue out, smiling wide as his climax washed over him, unloading onto your tongue and lips. You let it sit there in your mouth for a few extra seconds, keeping eye contact with Bucky as you swallowed it down.

He collapsed against the couch, eyes blown open wide. “Holy fucking shit. Stevie, the mouth on your girl..”

“You can address your compliments to her directly, Buck,” Steve laughed, standing from where he had been sitting in his chair and coming over to help you up. “You might have made his brain malfunction, sweetheart.”

You smiled proudly, meeting Steve’s lips for a kiss. You leaned against him again, tilting your head up to him. “Need you inside me, please?”

“Yeah?” Steve asked. His hand rested against the base of your neck, holding you flush against his chest. “And can Bucky watch?”

You couldn’t help but giggle and nod.

Bucky’s eyes opened slowly, as a smirk grew on his face too. He didn’t even bother cleaning himself up or pulling his pants into place again, simply leaning back and watching carefully as Steve led you over towards his desk. 

Steve took his time, kissing you quite generously as he peeled your dress up towards your waist. You felt him smile against your lips as his hands tugged on your underwear, sliding his fingers towards your center. Just as he had predicted, you had clearly really enjoyed yourself, as your soaked panties indicated.

“I’m gonna slide right in, baby,” he breathed against your neck, swirling his fingers around your clit. “Maybe next time, we do this at the same time. Do you want to try that? Bucky in your mouth while you’re full of me?” 

You groaned, twitching as Steve’s fingers sped up. It wasn’t long until your orgasm approached and soon enough you were quivering in Steve’s arms, ricocheting your way up and down the rollercoaster of senses as Steve turned and pressed you against his desk.

You laid down across it, on your stomach with your ass up in the air. You could feel Steve behind you, shoving your underwear to the side as he freed himself from his own pants. You gripped the edge of the desk as he entered you, slowly at first to make sure you were comfortable and ready. 

Across the room, you watched as Bucky was gripping his own cock, somehow hard again. Steve held onto your hips and thrusted steady, letting out his own series of grunts and moans as he fucked you.

Between your own moaning and Steve’s, you could barely hear Bucky across the room but he said your name out loud. You met his eyes as he was rubbing his shaft.

“You’re incredible, doll. Absolutely fucking incredible. And look at you, taking Steve so well. You like that, huh? Being so fucking full of him?”

With your own orgasm approaching, all you could do was cry out in agreement. Steve growled behind you, speeding up as he gripped your hips even tighter. 

“Look what you did to Bucky, baby,” Steve smacked his hand against your ass, holding you tight against him. “With just your mouth..” 

Bucky smirked, biting his lip as he watched you bounce against the desk. “Gonna let me feel that pussy next time?”

Your climax felt volcanic - a flurry of neurons firing off in your brain as you quivered, safely pressed against the desk as the weight of Steve covered you like a warm blanket. He came right after, growling in your ear as he spilled into you. Steve stayed in place after, as if unable to let go as he caught his breath. 

As you came back down to earth, Steve eventually stood, taking a moment to clean you up before coaxing you back into his desk chair. Yeah, you definitely needed a few more minutes. If you stood, you might fall down like a baby deer. 

You leaned back into the soft leather chair, eyes closed as you grinned. 

Steve kneeled before you, pressing a kiss to the side of your knee as he fixed your skirt. 

“Baby, you okay?” 

You opened your eyes and looked down. He was flush and seemed awfully content. You weren’t sure you had ever seen him smile like that before. 

You bit your lip, resisting your urge to scream with joy. You glanced from Steve over to Bucky. He was still sitting on the couch, though his pants were done up and buckled again. 

“I’m really good. Like, wow. Great. Amazing.”

Bucky laughed from his spot. “Doll, you’re amazing. I..” He sat up a bit straighter. “Best  sidecar I’ve ever had.”

You raised an eyebrow, looking back to Steve again. They were wearing matching grins. You didn’t want to ask. 

“I have worked up an appetite though..” You moved to stand. Steve got to his feet and offered his hand. “How do we feel about milkshakes?”

You collected yourself as Steve and Bucky strategized the best way to sneak out of the club and find a table at your favourite diner. 

There was a shift, though. When Bucky opened the car door for you, exchanging another smirk with Steve. Something in the air felt different.

Part 2 - The Penthouse

[dilfosaur]

well i haven't spilled my guts on tumblr since i was in college but it's the platform that's felt The Most Mine thru the years, so

let's talk!

i've had a huge chip on my shoulder that i wanted off before the year ends. very bad professional experience to follow

so firstly to get ahead of the speculating, i'm not naming names or anything. some of you will puzzle out who i'm talking about, but please don't bother anyone especially not on my behalf. i've worked hard to distance myself from them the past few months. shit happens, especially when you're a dumb bitch (that's me!)

but also this person was someone i considered a close friend and it makes me uneasy to possibly direct backlash at them. "then why post about it" bc i did intermittent work for them for over a year. this is just about that. so hear me out

basically it started off fine. i initially did some commission work for good pay, then was invited to become more involved with their team. unfortunately as i became more involved with their operation it became more disorganized over time. projects started then forgotten, constantly shifting schedules, lapsing communication between roles, confusing financials, and often inconsistent if not late payments. during mid 2023 i was doing colorist work, sometimes on a one day turnaround (all while also preparing drawfee's summer merch launch). the payroll wasn't set up correctly so i wasn't paid for that work for over a year (more on that later), tho to be fair that was largely my own fault at first as i just didnt realize the payments didn't go thru lol

i always consider myself decently capable of separating friendship and coworker-ship; i run a company with 4 wonderful friends, going strong for almost 5 years. that didn't really work out in this case. by early this year our friendship was on the rocks; work issues fed into personal issues and vice versa. so as the rest of this shit plays out, we had just had our first "big fight" which i felt very bad about and added to all the upcoming tension

a huge point of friction was the fact that i really wanted to work with them to make a music video for one of their songs. i've always wanted a chance to make a music video, was confident in a concept i came up with, and even did some concept art for the idea. everyone insisted they loved the concept and that we should do it, but we kept pushing it back for various reasons. it ended up becoming a huge sticking point for my frustrations, which i tried to express productively. TLDR, we eventually got around to discussing it seriously around april.

i planned to ask for $4000 with negotiable add-on for the whole project, which was my Friend Discount price. i was offered a contract for $1000 flat rate, as they insisted that was the only budget they had for it.

don't ask me why i signed it lol. i didn't even counter offer

there was some girlmath to it: i wanted an extra 1k for a student scholarship i provide every spring and well, there it was. but if i had to guess, i saw it as something i just couldn't back down from any more. i caused these folks- my friends- a lot of problems bc i dug my heels in so deep to chase this project, so fuck it we ball

i had about 4 months to solo a 3 minute music video. they wanted it done in august so they could release it before summer ended, bc "it was a summer song". to be fair i was asked if i needed them to pay for anything extra like assistants (which i would have to find and manage) but i was so immediately overwhelmed that i didn't wanna slow down to wait on that process lol. there was very minimal communication other than brief progress check-ins every few weeks. i did everything for that project myself: the original concept, character designs, storyboards, layouts, backgrounds. i even did the editing/compositing for the final cut of the MV. the only favor i did myself was limiting the amount of it that was actually animated to simple loops and motions. hardly my best work but it was work still done

i did it all in between my full time job. i ended up having to take nearly a month away from most of my drawfee duties (with the support of the others) to make the august deadline. i only ever asked for a 3 day extension (notice given about a week in advance, around the same time i was given the final song file lol). i finished the music video at 6am on the final deadline and recorded drawfee the next day on 2 hours of sleep

but it was done, coolies. the team was very happy with the final product. honestly, without getting into it, those were a very emotionally taxing 4 months. on the professional side, i regretted agreeing to the project and especially for the dogshit rate they offered. i felt like a hypocrite- as someone who always wanted to advocate for younger artists demanding their worth in a world that's getting increasingly hostile toward creatives, i failed myself

so when i met with the manager to discuss the release plan, i told them to do whatever worked best for them as i only had one request: i wanted my credit removed from the project

tbh... like... lmao this dramatic bitch right!! but really, i decided that bad practices only breed worse business. friends or not, it was unprofessional of me to accept such a low paying job so i just didn't want my name used in association. everything felt so muddled to me and i was just really tired at this point

the manager was very understanding and then offered that i could be paid more. they said that their team "was surprised" i accepted their low rate and they would be happy to up the amount. this confused me as the initial budget seemed pretty set and at no point between april and august was i offered a better rate. i knew these guys weren't made of money. so, i declined. i didn't want to put anyone out of their means over work that was already done and agreed upon. but more importantly, i was over the whole thing and didn't want to prolong the project with a contract renegotiation. i just insisted my name be removed

they decided to use a pseudonym (which i was fine with) so they could create a story about a character who made the MV (this sounds really convoluted but i don't know how better to put it without getting specific, sorry). that way if people asked about the credit, they could speak comfortably about it without signaling that something went wrong behind the scenes. ok, kind of a silly narrative imo but whatevs. and maybe this is where i finally went truly wrong but. yolo i guess

i gave the name "D. Smithee", D as in dilfosaur and Smithee as in Alan Smithee. look it up for fun film trivia ig! was it passive aggressive of me to reference that in this context? yeah, honestly. but i thought it was kinda funny and really not that deep. if it was a problem, i have other real, non-cheeky pseudonyms i regularly use. the manager accepted it and all i had to do was wait for them to post the video and i could leave the whole experience behind me

a week later i received a message from the manager that my pseudonym had been denied by the rest of the team bc one of them got the reference. fair enough lol. however, they decided that rather than ask for a different name, the were going to make one up for me that they liked and would "fit the [story]", without asking me

and that! is when i finally snapped!

i was so tired of giving them concessions at this point and having a credit made up for me without any input from me felt genuinely violating and unethical. i started to Panic bc of how stressed i was, and asked for my overdue payments (aka the $500 still owed on the MV, and the colorist rate from a year prior that was never paid even tho i reported it in january) to be scheduled ASAP as i was leaving the work discord immediately

i finally told them off for exploiting me throughout the months while i kept trying to just be nice and finish my contact cleanly. in return i was told that it was unfair to say that as i agreed to everything- i accepted their cheap rate and denied further payment so that was all settled, and it was ok to change my credit without my consent bc i "said they could do whatever with the release". i called bullshit, ended the convo as kindly as i could, and cried lol. they agreed to ditch the pseudonym and just give no credit. that night was the last i heard from anyone on that team

and the real kicker?

august came and went. then september, october... and they never released the music video

and i don't know why, because i was never contacted about it. i've been removed from the picture entirely i guess. 4 months and boatloads of stress. just. up in smoke. i don't know what i expected honestly

it's hard to not take everything that happened personally and as done in bad faith. i really do, honestly. i've had plenty of shitty deals in my almost 10 year art career, but it hits different from people you saw as friends. but to the point of "why not keep it private", i have never felt so disrespected as a professional as i did this past year. i can toy with money and credits and other formalities all i want, but my work- my ideas, my labor, my effort- is still so important to me. i felt like the biggest idiot for doing so much work, pouring so much of myself into a piece for someone's use, for what has amounted to nothing

but more importantly i hated myself for undervaluing my work, even if initially i thought this person was a trusted friend. money is not really an issue for me- drawfee is my main job and i am fine and comfortable. it's so important to pay artists appropriately but i often undersell my own work bc i value the collaboration and passion between creatives more than the reward. i think a lot of artists tend to feel the same, and it often makes us easy to take advantage of. it's so difficult to find the balance between passion and making a fair living, and i think there's some shame within ourselves when artists choose to prioritize that passion

i wanted to finally get all this off my chest bc i was ashamed of every choice i made. things like this happen all the time i'm sure and hiding these mistakes only make it easier for it to happen to other people

tldr always value your work and protect your passion from people who just see it as a product. and don't give cheeky pseudonyms i guess lol

(and again pls don't bother anyone involved about this. a lot of chaos has left my life as i moved past all this, and this is me closing a door without opening new ones hopefully lol)

this shit was truly

so ass.

but i'm moving past it now

but on a nicer note. outside of all of this nonsense, i made lots of good memories this year. i'm truly so grateful to the many wonderful people in my life who keep me going even when i fuck up big time!

and thank you to all of you strangers who, despite everything, give me the time of day. especially if you read this whole thing. you're a real one :')

happy new year!

[flwrkid14]

Love and Obsession: The Tim Drake Way

part 2

Everyone in the Batfamily knows Tim Drake has… issues with boundaries. They’ve spent years trying to teach him what’s appropriate and what’s—well—deeply unsettling and completely invasive. To be fair, he’s learned. Mostly. He doesn’t stalk his family anymore (much), and he no longer pulls up files on every single person they talk to (okay, maybe just sometimes). But it’s progress.

But then Tim starts dating Danny Fenton. And, oh boy, a few screws come loose.

It starts small, as always. Just little things. Tim’s a detective, after all—background checks are second nature. Danny’s living in Gotham, and Gotham isn’t safe. So, really, what’s the harm in knowing a little more about Danny’s friends? And his professors? And maybe also his classmates? It’s just standard protocol. Okay?

“Tim, you’ve run a full dossier on my entire biology class?” Danny asks one day, laughing as he flips through a file on the coffee table. Tim shrugs. “What if one of them is dangerous?” “Pretty sure the most dangerous thing in that class is the midterm.”

Danny doesn’t think much of it. He’s a little flattered, even. Tim’s protective. It’s sweet.

But Tim’s mind doesn’t stop there. Danny’s too handsome. Too charming. What if someone tries to hurt him? What if someone tries to take him away? It’s not obsessive—it’s just concern. So, a tracker on Danny’s phone? Necessary. Cameras in his apartment? Standard. Monitoring his sleeping patterns and hangout spots? Logical.

Tim tells himself it’s love. And maybe a little insecurity.

“You have a tracker on his phone?” Dick asks, trying not to sound alarmed. Tim nods, like it’s the most normal thing in the world. “Of course. What if something happens to him?” “And the cameras?” “Safety.” “The background checks on his professors?” “Gotham U isn’t exactly known for its stellar staff, Dick.”

It doesn’t stop there. Tim knows everything. Danny’s eating habits, his favorite places to go when he’s stressed, his childhood allergies. Tim’s mapped out Danny’s entire life. He knows about Danny’s ghost powers too—of course he does. He’s Tim Drake. The moment he realized Danny was Phantom, it just… clicked.

Danny being half-ghost? That’s just one more reason to worry. Tim’s up late at night, watching for any signs of ectoplasmic interference. He tracks the energy spikes. He monitors Danny’s fights.

He doesn’t think Danny knows. He’s terrified of what will happen if he finds out.

But then he does.

One evening, Danny walks into Tim’s apartment and casually drops a folder on the table. Tim’s heart stops.

“What’s this?” Danny asks, raising an eyebrow. Tim swallows hard. “I… it’s just…” “You’ve been tracking me?” Danny opens the file, glancing through pages of surveillance reports, background checks, even analysis of his ectoplasmic energy. Tim feels like his world is about to shatter.

“I… I can explain,” Tim says, his voice tight. “I’m just… worried about you. You’re in danger all the time, and I—” Danny walks over, cupping Tim’s face in his hands. Tim braces for the worst.

But Danny just smiles. “Can I put a tracker on you too?”

Tim blinks. “What?” Danny kisses his cheek. “If you’re watching my back, it’s only fair I watch yours. I need to make sure you’re safe too.”

Tim stares at him, speechless. Danny doesn’t look scared. Or angry. He looks… fond. Like Tim’s obsessive tendencies aren’t a problem at all.

“I’ve never had someone care about me this much,” Danny says softly. “I trust you with my life, Tim. This? This just proves how serious you are.”

Tim thinks he’s just fallen deeper in love.

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

The Batfamily? They’re worried.

Jason corners Tim in the cave. “Okay, so let me get this straight. You’ve got cameras in his apartment. You’ve mapped out his entire life. You’ve got a tracker on him and a heartbeat monitor. And he’s… fine with it?” Tim nods, a dreamy smile on his face. “Yeah. He even wants to put a tracker on me.” “That’s not… healthy, Tim,” Dick says carefully. “That’s—” “It’s mutual,” Tim interrupts. “We’re protecting each other.”

Bruce pinches the bridge of his nose. “Tim, this isn’t how relationships are supposed to work.” Tim shrugs. “It’s how ours works.”

Damian watches the whole thing with narrowed eyes. “This is deeply unsettling,” he mutters.

They try to talk to Danny. Intervention style. They invite him over, sit him down, and gently (or not so gently) try to explain that Tim’s behavior isn’t normal.

Danny just laughs. “You guys do know I’m half-ghost, right?” “That doesn’t mean—” Dick starts. “I spent my entire life being hunted by ghost hunters. I’ve had worse invasions of privacy.” Danny smiles. “Tim cares. He keeps me safe. That’s all I need.”

The bats don't quite know what to say.

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

Tim and Danny, two slightly unhinged souls who think mutual surveillance is the ultimate act of love.

The bats? They’re just trying to keep up.

(“At least they’re happy?” Barbara offers weakly. Bruce sighs. “For now.”)

Gotham’s version of love was never going to be normal. But this? This is a whole new level.

[steddieme]

in most fics i've read robin is grossed out when steve talks about his sex life, which is probably far more in character for her, but hear me out

imagine them discussing literally everything. like having no boundaries whatsoever.

one day robin mentions she's never seen a dick and she's curious what all the fuss is about.

robin: you have one

steve: yeah...?

robin: so show me

steve: ??

steve: sure, why not

when steve pulls down his pants, robin just stares at him with a blank face

robin: that's... it?

steve: what do you mean that's it??

robin: it looks sad

steve: ??? well, it's not hard rn, obviously???

robin: ugh, boring

steve: you want me to show you my hard dick?? is that what's happening rn?

robin: i mean yeah?

steve: your judgemental face is forever burned into my mind. i don't think i'll ever be able to get hard again.

then robin bursts into his room like a week later

robin: steve, you're a slut-

steve: hey!

robin: so you know your way around a vagina, right?? i need you to tell me if i have a rash or not

steve: do you not own a handheld mirror?

robin: i'm freaking out so much, i can't make a sound observation rn

steve: *sigh* alright

turns out robin does indeed have a rash and steve takes her to the doctor

at one point they lose all shame. steve regularly air dries while robin hangs out in his room. robin makes steve do her monthly breast self-exam. they check each other for ticks.

when steve and eddie start dating steve tells robin literally everything. robin knows way too much about eddie and she loves it.

robin comes over for movie night, eddie is already there

robin: how was your day?

steve: we slept in, then eddie fucked me, it was great-

eddie: *chokes*

steve: then we cooked lunch, there are some leftovers in the fridge, go ahead and eat. yours?

eddie: ???

robin: ugh, don't get me started-

eddie: wait wait wait, how did you just say that so casually?

stobin: ???

eddie: that i fucked you??

steve: i tell robin everything. i told you that. you said that's fine.

eddie: i didn't know that included our sex life?

steve: why wouldn't it? ... wait, oh no, are you not okay with that?? i'm sorry, i thought you knew??

eddie: oh no, it's fine! it just surprised me is all. y'all are real freaks, carry on

stobin: okay then

robin freaks out before her first date with a girl

robin: what if my vagina looks weird???

steve: are you planning to fuck her on the first date, buckley? and how many times do i have to tell you your vagina looks absolutely normal??

robin: no, i'm not, but it's still a valid concern!!! what if my vagina looks hideous to girls??

eddie, the silent observer: lol

steve: what are you even talking about... a vagina is a vagina, vagina lovers love all vaginas

robin: stop saying vagina

steve: vagina vagina vagina-

robin tackles him and they end up wrestling until steve yields

steve: okay okay,, as someone who's seen his fair share of coochies

robin: that's even worse

steve: yours looks perfectly fine.

eddie: wait, you've seen it?

stobin, staring at him: ...

eddie: right, dumb question

[screampied]

GOVERNMENT HOOKER ?! — GOJO & GETO ☆

ᡴꪫ headline. what happens when you’re the popstar too? even better question: what happens when you show up to a show with no panties thanks to your band mates gojo and geto?

wc. 6.0k

warnings. fem! reader, popstar!gojo au, thrēesomes, semi-public themes, unprotected, fucking backstage, praise, dirty talk, geto showing gojo how to touch you, cucking, hair pulling, double penetratıon, size kink, manhandling, nipple play, oral (f & m receiving), gojo gets cancelled (again)

an. ignore alejandro that chapter never happened hahakdlf

popstar!gojo mlist

“um hello. if i wanted to watch you two make out i’d watch corn or something.” gojo pouts, scowl and all. he watches as his other bandmate—geto, the star bassist shove his tongue down your throat. he was so jealous, maybe having intimate relations with your two mates wasn’t the best idea but who cares, right?

“porn not corn,” you roll your eyes, pulling away from geto to stare at the popstar. gojo had the biggest frown on his face, he wanted some too. besides, it was about an hour before the show would actually start and he was bored out of his skull. he couldn’t help but roam his eyes all down your attire, the bedazzled rhinestones that stuck against the fabric, your fishnets, the way they effortlessly stuck against your skin. “what?”

geto leans back with a desirable slouch, tangled knots of his hair falling against his broad shoulders before he hums. “oh, he’s jus’ jealous. he wants to kiss you too, princess,” and geto briefly unstraps his mic that was attached near his chin. “to be fair though, gojo doesn’t know the first step on pleasing women.”

“uh huh, and you do?” gojo glowers, purposely sitting right between the two of you. the both of you dramatically groan, the mood suddenly ruined from the spoiled popstar before he slings an arm around you. “h-hey, pretty.”

and his voice cracks— oops.

you giggle and it only makes gojo’s pout deepen. he mopes and you cup his face with a cheeky grin. “satoru, stop whining. if you wanted to touch me too, you could have just asked,” and with irises as azure as a blue day sky, they dilate. gojo melts from your touch alone, a thumb of yours strokes his left temple and his attention’s suddenly captivated. “do you want a kiss too?”

“y- yes,” he stammers, hearing geto snicker directly next to him. he glares, uttering a, “shut up,” and as his eyes focus back towards you, he subtlety glances at your foxy glossed lips that were cutely pursed. “i wanna kiss you, please..”

it was winsome in a way. out of all the times gojo kissed you, he acts like this was his first time. but in actuality,

he’s always been a bit addicted to you. you sort of came out of nowhere, he’s always been a well known popstar all around the world but with you, he’s had to share his spotlight. not that he ever really minded, gojo would always share if it was with you.

currently—the two of you were touring together, you weren’t as influential to the famed pop genre, but you had a bit of a fanbase yourself. you started about a year ago, gojo was a … secret fanboy of you back when the two of you first met. he heard your voice and knew he had to have you.

have as in, have you as an opener for one of his shows which then turned to many. and now, he’s on his highly anticipated world tour with you. die hard fans immediately wanted to know more about you as you started to make your mark in the industry.

whilst your lips gingerly press against gojo’s, he lets off a sweet harmonic moan.

you taste so sweet, honeyed even.

gojo’s always had a craving for sweet things, you’ve just helped him indulge in it further.

a tongue of his runs against your bottom lip. he sucks on it succinctly, tasting the syrupy flavor of lip gloss that bedaubs over your lips. he deepens the kiss by a mile—gojo brings two hands toward your waist, two thumbs swiftly rubbing against your sides as each tongue rummages through and through. a smile compresses against your lips as you make out with him, sucking on his tongue and he whines for more.

“he’s gonna fall ‘n love at this rate,” geto titters, prying his best friend off. gojo pouts once the kiss devestatingly breaks. a slippery concoction-like string of spit wrests away from each lips as gojo exhales deeply. geto leans in to kiss underneath your neck before speaking in a perky purr. “hm, we’ve maybe got a good… what—” and the bassist glances at the watch that sticks to his wrist. “forty minutes left?”

“hey, don’t hog her,” gojo grumbles, and they’re both practically fighting over you. geto smugly grins, lowering his head towards your thighs to nip more near your cobweb-styled fishnets. you lie back against the sofa as the two both stare at you with such lust piercing into their eyes. “you’re so pretty,” he puffs, a thumb of his stroking against your chin.

“toru, c’mereee,” geto slyly says, ushering him with two moving fingers. gojo gets beside him and they’re both hovering over you. leaning back against the cushioned furniture—you sprawl your legs out a bit, tossing off your high inched stilettos. “feel how wet she is for me— eh, i mean us.”

you were a bit wet, profusely wet after making out with geto previously for so long.

with his hands meandering all down your body in the process, his knee goes between your thighs every few seconds. your laced panties were merely stuck together against your skin—gojo feels himself pant once he notices the little dampened spot near the middle of the cottony fabric. “hurry up though,” you stammer. “kento’s gonna kill us if we show up late for another show.”

kento nanami being gojo’s stern manager,

“i got you, princess,” geto hums, grabbing ahold of your wrist. gojo however was quite eager, desperate to run his fingers near your soaked entrance. “satoru, don’t drool over her now. have some manners.” he teases, showing him how to skim his fingers against your now exposed clit. your panties were now pulled to the side and you gnaw on your bottom lip to suppress a few of your incoming moans.

“shut up, s-suguu,” he scoffs, a thumb of his ghosting down your swollen slit. gojo’s already mesmerized, oh, you were sopping wet. it should be a crime to be this drenched. although— he’s a bit timid on what to do next. gojo leans right between your legs, planting a soft kiss near the inner crevice of your legs. “m-mmh.” he coos out, the scent of your arousal immensely pouring into his nostrils. you were so addictive, he barely even had a taste of you and he already wanted more.

“she’s pretty isn’t she,” geto whispers and as you look down, they’re both right between your thighs. greedy, you knew they’d probably share. geto playfully sinks his teeth into your thigh before he trails his face up. he creates a single licking trail against your folds and you moan. gojo watches, the direct spot he licks against was your sweetened clitoral hood. “get her wet, like this,” and his long black lashes close. the warmth of geto’s tongue already makes your back arch. he’s gentle yet precise—he slurps you for a few more moments before a stubby thumb of his prods inside of your pulsating clit. after a few quickened seconds he pulls away, furtively smiling at gojo. “can you do that orrr do i gotta hold your hand?”

“oh fuck you, man. i can eat pussy.” gojo glares, and their banter was always so entertaining to watch.

you giggle, seeing gojo’s annoyed frustration before the bassist gets up to stand. you glance up at him—he’s towering over you, immediately you lick your lips at the sight of his skin tight jeans.

oh, how they perfectly stuck against his skin, quite literally skin tight. he had such a big bulge already poking out, his zipper wouldn’t even zip fully. geto’s fly was proudly open, he hums to himself as he sees your eager hands paw against his pants. with a big hand grabbing onto the crown of your head, he cheeses. “hmm, you want a taste of somethin’ too, huh? need me to train those pretty vocal chords before the show?”

you nod, but his hand snakes its way to cup onto your chin. “words,” he purrs, a thumb peeling down your bottom lip. you moan once you feel gojo starting to lay his tongue flat against your cunt, relishing in your precious flavor. he’s already drooling over you, making you ten times more wet. gojo was gonna order something before performing—but eating you out was cheaper, and far more tasty than his original craving dish. “tell me what that throat wants, pretty.”

as you’re pursing your lips to speak, you moan at the way gojo’s right between your legs, teeth of his playfully gnawing near your thighs whilst he’s buried face full into you. “w- want your cock,” you mewl out with pretty polished eyes. geto’s jeans, the bulge was all pressed against your face— he yanks down his pants only to rub your face against the printed fabric. “suguru, need it.”

“fuck,” he grunts, feeling how you voluntarily roll out your own tongue, flicking it against the edges of his boxers. his bulge, it leaves you with a non-taste in your mouth, your legs start to quaver from gojo’s tongue. the popstar’s eating you out as if he’s haven’t had a good meal in years. he’s cutely moaning into your cunt, feeling the growing strain in beneath his briefs himself. geto delicately grabs a fistful of your hair before he raises a brow. “teeth, pull ‘em off with your teeth. we won’t use our hands today, baby.”

with a pout, you comply—leaning in, the pointed areas of your canines latch onto his underwear. its stretchy. you whine, reaching a hand down to touch yourself but gojo lightly smacks your hand.

“girl, ‘m eating.��

geto giggles, watching the pout on your face only squeeze against your expressions tighter. as you’re peeling his boxers down with your teeth, slowly, his thick cock springs out. it’s so big, and of course—gojo pauses to take a quick look himself. his jaw faintly drops at his best friend’s hefty size, and as he’s staring—geto catches him gawking before he sneers.

“oh, you’re lookin’ like you wanna suck me off too, satoru,” and he hums once he feels your tongue lick against his leaky base. “don’t be ungrateful, popstar. your meal’s right in front of you.”

“s-shut up,” he grumbles, feeling a sudden wave of heat wash against the entirety of his face. gojo goes back to sliding his tongue against your sensitive nub, listening to your sweet whimpers. you’re barely able to hold still. in the background, all that could be heard was the clamorous sounds of chants and screams—the audience, awaiting for their beloved satoru gojo who was currently occupying his own vocals between your thighs. he was never once to complain, the softly padded cartilage part of his nose swipes against your folds and your tummy zealously caves in. he licks you in all the right spots, licks that gradually turn into deep, sloppy sucks. “m-mhm, so sweet.”

“heyy,” geto whispers, craning your head to stare back up at him. as you’re met with the thickness of his shaft standing tall right in front of your face, you lean in to kiss the very tip of his frenulum. he groans, the outer parts of his abs clenching in pleasure. he couldn’t wait to feel the very inside of your throat, the tightness, the sheer warmth. with your tongue exploring everywhere—every specific spot, tracing the outline of his size, you whine.

with plump, spit-glossed lips—you dangle your jaw down a bit, preparing to take him inside. “good girl. no slobbin’ on it, okay? you don’t wanna be a messy girl this time, do ya? not before a big show, yeah?”

you reply with a subtle head nod, your sweet lips happily opening around his ample fat cockhead.

“yeah? you want me to really throat train you, that bad huh. warm up that pretty diaphragm?” geto sighs, his darkened arch brows lowering once you start to slowly sink your throat down onto his excited length. geto’s barely a few inches in and you feel a sudden pulse race down his dick.

so cute, geto keeps his eyes on you the entire time—occasionally, his eyes detour from you to gojo. he was already lost in your pussy as if it was a maze he’d never escape from. gojo’s all underneath you as you sit over him on all fours. his tongue had already located everywhere—his tongue making its metaphorical mark in every secluded area inside of your wet folds.

you were melting, muffled moans started to spew out of your mouth from gojo’s tongue and the sudden bitter taste of geto’s pre-cum.

sweet, yet bitter..

three perfect words to describe geto’s taste— it lives on your tongue for a long time before you start to lower your mouth down on him. it’s a tight fit at first, you can already feel a few sloppy remnants of your own saliva trickle down the sides of your lips. “ah,” you gasp out, grazing the tip of your tongue over the fat crown of his dick. a taste you wanted to always savor. you moan, feeling geto sneak a hand down to pry a bit more between your already openly exposed legs. he’s almost all the way down your throat before you start to suck him off. he’s so thick that you merely gag from the first few thwacks his tip makes against the roof of your mouth.

“wider for me. lay out that tongue, yeah,” and a thumb of his traces against the curvature of your lips. you can’t help the drool that’s starting to trickle down near the very corners of your mouth. you whine, feeling that pang of a throb welt within your folds from gojo’s slurping. he was in fact, a messy eater. he couldn’t help it, especially with how sugary you taste for him, the more his tongue traverses throughout every part of your walls, the more he craves for more. he yearns for more of your taste. gojo prods two fingers against your slit before running them down, whining himself from his poking boner that’s grinding against the sofa. geto pulls his dick out to smear his dripping tip onto your lips—only to then shove it back in. you breathe through your nose before you start to suck again. timelessly, geto’s hitting against the back of your throat with ease.

gojo’s tongue already has you feeling a sense of numbness in your toes, wiggling it was little to no use. you eagerly wanted to touch yourself but each time you’d even attempt, he grabs your wrist so you won’t distract him from his meal.

gojo was dead set on making you make a mess on his tongue. “m-mph,” you’d gasp out in a muffled manner, geto’s firm grip on your hair makes your eyes merely roll into its backing depths of your cranium.

the bassist gives you a sweet head pat, shoving you all the way in before pulling you out, your nose tickles against the curled black pubic hairs that glue against his skin and he grunts. the perfect throat for a singer. after this, he was sure you’d be hitting high soprano notes like his loser best friend of a popstar in no time.

in which you were though, as you’re still perfectly on all fours with your mouth occupied and gojo directly propped underneath you, eating out your cunt like a starved man. you gasp, a sudden feeling of agitation leaking into your arousal.

it was approaching,

with the abrupt twitch of geto’s brows, he was coming the same time you were. “s-shittt,” he swallows, the ball stuffed in his throat, known as the adam’s apple. it occasionally shifts inside of his neck continues to move as he lets off guttural moans. with the way your tongue teasingly glides across his sensitive slit, he’s steadily preparing to shoot such a whopping load down your throat. “good girl, gonna make me cum, gonna make me c-cum with that pretty tight throat, yeah.”

geto’s low voice judders a bit, he’s that close that he almost starts to spasm.

with a concise bite on his lip, stopping himself from drawing blood—he leers down at you, a thumb of his stroking your lip. you were a mess, amounts of your own drool seeping down the corners of your lips before he wipes it away. “c’monnn, cum with me pretty, make a mess on that loser’s tongue for me.”

“fuck you s-suguru.” gojo grumbles, the rapid tempo of his tongue having you start to feel all kinds of pleasurable feelings. your legs had already gave out. two hands of gojo’s grip against your ass, giving it a firm squeeze before you clench against his mouth. whilst gojo’s goading at you with his tongue, again—geto’s cock reaches all the way to the roof of your throat. your tongue dances against the prodding veins that coats his dick once more before within seconds, he shoots out.

he’s still got a hand cupped over your head. the leather of his glove on his right hand tugs against the hairs of your scalp as he’s emptying a gooey volume down your tongue. “ugh, ‘s it. so much i’ve been savin’ so much for you,” he pants, lengthy strands of his hair continuing to block his view of vision in his face. as geto’s abs tenses, the minute you taste the viscous spurts of his bitterly sweet cum, it slowly starts to drizzle in your mouth.

it pours down your throat like the niagara— not even seconds later and you finish also, body twitching and overcoming with the hypnotic feelings of ectacsy and fucking salaciously lewd nirvana,

as you rut your hips against gojo’s face a few more times, he grips your hips whilst you come undone. he groans, the tent in his pants practically poking through his designer ‘toru briefs that costs well over four hundred dollars. but leave it to the popstar to spend his money on pretty boxers, blue too, his favorite color.

geto inhales a single breath, nostrils flaring all up before he wraps a hand around his length—finally pulling it out of your mouth.

he had a sheepish grin while he stares at you being laid back against the couch, slouching, and that’s when he huffs, a thumb poking your cheek to open it. “l-let’s see that tongue,” and he rubs his swollen tip against the edges of your tremoring lips. you swallowed, lolling out your pink, needy tongue and gojo sits up to see also. he couldn’t help but feel a tang of jealously, he wanted your attention. “mhm, good girl. nice ‘n clean, swallowed it all ‘n didn’t waste a drop,” and his eyes peer towards gojo who had a cute scowl on his lips. ah, he was already starting to feel left out. “satoru, kiss her.”

“uh? don’t tell me what to do, i was gonna do that anyway,” he pouts, his pretty eyes rolling back.

such sass, geto snickers at him before he kneels down to bring you up close to him. gojo cups your face, inching his wet lips toward you before he presses his own against yours. you moan, feeling the popstar’s hands wander through your dazzled blouse. with the taste of yourself still residing on his tongue, you grow addicted immediately.

a hand of his ghosts around the back of your neck, pulling you close and another hand of his ghosts between your spread open thighs. “grind against me, y-yeah, fuck,” he whines, feeling you already rub against his body. gojo’s a sloppy kisser too. the moment his tongue delves into yours, tangling with your own, he starts to feel volumes of his saliva dribble out from his mouth.

messy, a perfect way to describe the popstar. he’s had plenty of action throughout his life— it usually comes with the fame, but he’s never felt like this with someone like you.

sure, this was probably all counts of unprofessionalism but he didn’t care. you didn’t care either. geto, well … he was just geto.

“princess, keep grindin’ against him like that ‘n you’re gonna make him cum through his sweats,” geto chortles, pulling you off of him to press his own lips against you. gojo grumbles, watching his two band mates make out — oh, it was just something about your taste that made them both so drawn to you. they were driven to your lips, to your taste, to you in general. like moths to a flame. geto’s kisses were more passionate and sincere, he wraps a hand around your neck gently, a thumb caressing the passageway of your throat whilst he starts to suck against your tongue. with lips crashing amongst each other, he parts your legs open just a bit more before he departs away. “can never get enough,” and he hums to his best friend with a wry grin. “satoru, aw. what? are ya mad at me?”

“i was kissing her, man.”

“more like swallowing her face whole, come on baby-”

as they continue to bicker right in front of you, gojo leans back against the couch and geto props up directly behind you. he yanks down his sweats from last minute rehearsal and you hover over him in preparation to straddle him.

“satoru, you’re pouting.” you point out, cupping his face. indeed he was, cute pink bottom lip sticking out and he’s about to melt at how hot you look on top of him.

“it’s because he’s gonna live up to his other stage name as a two pump champ.” geto yawns,

gojo glares, desperately wishing to wipe that sly smirk off of geto’s face. then again he wasn’t exactly lying. the popstar’s known for a lot of things but most importantly—he was known for being the two pump champ, how he could barely last a few solid minutes inside of a girl before he completely spazzes out, finishing prematurely.

that only happened sometimes,

according to gojo.

“i’ll fuck you,” gojo bleats.

“what?” geto smirks.

“i said fuck you.” gojo corrects himself, barely even comprehended what he said the first time.

“yeah? maybe later.”

“stop flirting,” you roll your eyes, lifting yourself a bit on top of gojo. feeling geto’s hands suddenly cling onto your waist, you let out a soft murmur. “can i take you both?”

in a hoarse whisper, geto sneaks a few kisses against your collarbone. “are you asking, princess?” and his touch alone sends you a plethora of shivers everywhere. you lean back against his chest, still straddling gojo before biting your lip—replying with a subtle nod. “ah, ‘toru she wants to take us both. got enough energy for that?”

he shoots him daggers and the bassist only grins.

“f-fuck, jus’ . . hurry up. ‘m fuckin’ hard,” he swallows, his own fingertips brushing against the very curvature of your rocking hips.

white strands of his hair practically binding against his forehead. he’s undoubtedly hard, feeling his breathing slow down a bit as he looks down. your wet cunt was all swollen and preparing to be destroyed by them both. you weren’t even sure if you could take them both at the same time time—but where there’s a will, there’s a way,

you were far too pent up to even think about tonight’s show. your throbbing only increases before you get a hold of gojo’s length. he’s more thin with a lot of inches while geto’s more thick and bulky. just picturing the mere image of them both stuffing you full has your panties in a twist. speaking of panties— they were still leisurely pulled to the side of you, not bothering to take them off fully.

“you’re so fuckin’ hot,” gojo mewls out, his voice sounds more like a whine than anything. it was a contest between the both of you though — who was the most louder. gojo satoru or your pussy, he couldn’t help it. his whines only continue to ring across the small, claustrophobic room the further you take them both. “that’s it, yeah. jus’ keep those pretty eyes down h-here.”

a shaky breath cuts out from gojo’s lips as you feel him start to gradually sink inside of your cunt.

you moan almost immediately, holding onto his thighs whilst geto’s right behind you, following the same. you’re straddling gojo and taking him from the front and also taking geto from behind. the entirety of your pussy was lukewarm, it makes gojo already start to spasm—a familiar candied texture lingers in his mouth, his saliva that trickles inside before he can eventually swallows. you’re so tight at first, the grip you have against them both does wonders..

if it was anything though, gojo would take pussy over publicity any day.

you felt way too good. it doesn’t take them long before they both start to bottom out inside of you. geto nips a few kisses near the outer areas of your collarbone—he could never get enough of your taste, both of them couldn’t.

you were sweet like candy, gojo always did have a sweet tooth after all. as they’re both easing their ways inside of your slick entrances, you slump back against geto’s chest. “fuck, ‘s right. nice ‘n slow baby. takin’ us both so well.”

the stretch was purely appetizing—your cunt instinctively squeezes down against them, clamping.

as you start to jerk your hips forward with them being all the way in, you feel geto’s hands slither its way inside of your dazzled blouse. near the very skirts of the fabric, he fondles against your neglected breasts, giving them a nice firm grab. the tips of his soft padded thumbs strum against your nipples and you whine. “f-fuck,” you moan out, your hips rutting against them both in harmony—in perfect sync. even the sofa’s producing a tune of its own with the constant repetitive creaking. with geto’s hands still roaming against your body, it trails down to your chest and near your tummy. he cunningly grins once he feels the written lines of his signature displayed on your body. his signature—earlier, you’d ask him to write his name on you and he was more than happy to oblige. the musk of the strong scented sharpie wafts through the air, his fingers slew against the neatly written words that spelled out ‘suguru’s favorite’ in bold.

as you’re riding gojo, he takes a peek himself at your exposed abdomen and he grunts under his breath. “fucker.”

“someone mad?” geto fake pouts, poking fun at his best friend and that only gifts him a glare.

you continue to grind your hips against them, feeling gojo’s touch gently caress the lower parts of your body. the blaring roaring chants outside of the room near the arena only gets louder. like most of his shows, it was pretty packed. gojo’s always getting sold out shows of around thousands of people just to see him perform live.

but oh, did his precious little fangirls hate your guts.

they didn’t just hate you, they loathed you.

they loathed how you just randomly came into the picture, how you came out of nowhere and started opening up shows for him. everyone always wanted in on the scoop though. who were you and just why was gojo so obsessed?

where there’s gojo’s intimidating length—there’s geto’s deliciously fat girth. you couldn’t pick out just who was stuffing you deeper, you felt everything all at once. you’re unwaveringly moving your hips against them both and your cunt’s squelching out such pleasurable symphonies. “ugh,” gojo groans, dragging your hips back and forth against him with his hands. you’re so pretty like this, the view he’s got of you just riding him makes his dick twitch inside of you. you’ve never felt so full, with both guys already bottomed out—you almost struggle to barrel in both lengths at first. “k-keep ridin’ me like this ‘n i’m gonna cummm.”

you’re working your hips against them both—geto still has his hands attached to your chest, gently seeping his teeth into the juncture of your neck. his tongue was so warm, he flicks his moving muscle against the piercing marks he’s left you on your collarbone.

so sweet..

with each hole, it’s both getting its fair share of fullness and every flavorsome inch you’re taking your mouth watering. it salivates quickly and not before long—you feel yourself convulsing from each of them. you feel a palpitating pang surge underneath your thighs as you bounce against them both. the couch suddenly shrieks in unexpected dismay at the piles of weight slamming against the furniture each second.

“relax, easy easy,” geto purrs against you, licking near the outer shell of your ear. you moan, his hands starting to feel elsewhere before he rubs a few circles against your folds. you gasp, your body jolting in response. the stimulation was almost too much to bare—too good, combining both shafts, you felt the fullest one could ever be.

within seconds, they’re both buried to the hilt.

you pierce your teeth into your bottom lip before you start to rock. gojo stares at your body—the cute halfway pulled up blouse that was shimmering in the light. once all pretty and neat, now wrinkled and practically ripped to shreds all thanks to the tight grips of the two stars. gojo loudly whines, a hand of his sticking to your hips like velcro before he starts to yoke your hips further into him. “goddamn, s-so warm, jus’ askin’ to be stretched by us both, fuck ‘m not gonna last.”

“like i said, two pump champ.” geto whispers, broad hands of his own clinging to your backside.

his best friend gives him nothing more but a glower again as you’re taking both of them from each hole. the stretch lasts for a good while, your gummy textured walls squeezes against them before you feel a sudden coil burst. so good, the way your hips roll and throw back against them was so hot. the recoil—geto’s personal favorite part. he loves to give your ass spanks as you continue to jerk and jostle against them both. bodies on bodies on bodies—gojo grunts lowly as he brings a hand to play with your ignored tits. a thumb of his grazes against your unclamped bra that was just barely shielding your soft plump mounds.

“f-fuck,” you moan, rocking your hips repeatedly, the chants from the area only grows louder until it’s a deafening roar. time was merely up but you could care less. the hot warmth of geto’s breath brushes against your skin as he slides his tongue against your neck. he loved to dig his pearly whites into the depths of your skin, giving you a playful nibble. he does all that only to kiss against the new marks that print into your skin. he wants more of you. “s-stretchin’ me out s’good.”

as you’re being mushed with them both — your breaths start to become more heavy and irregular.

wet, your cunt sloshes and sloshes from each movement and it’s so lewd. you’re jerking back and forth until the sofa’s squeaking out pretty melodic moans of itself. you’re sopping wet, you reach down to touch yourself and geto grabs your wrist. “nuh uh,” he coos against your ear. “this pussy’s for my hands only, baby.”

“and mine..” gojo pouts.

“yeah, no,” geto chimes, hearing your cute grumble before he touches your swollen cunt for you. “mmm, such a wet girl. can’t believe you were really gonna perform with a pussy this soaked. my my.”

gojo’s losing it underneath you—his face flushes before he’s dragging you quicker and quicker against him. sharp exhales leave from his lips and it’s not before long that you and him were both getting close—geto shortly following too. it only takes about a good few minutes before that familiar pool stirs into the deep abyss of your obscene heat. you felt a good parcel of nerves trigger all over you’re body and you can’t stay still. with your mouth hanging open, geto’s continuing to rub circles against your throbbing clit.

“c-cum, ‘m gonna cum,” you whimper pathetically, feeling the honed edge of his hips strike into you at a more hasty tempo. geto can’t keep his hands off you, they both can’t keep their hands off of you.

the minute you feel the fat head of gojo’s dick broach against that particular spot. you’re seeing all types of unnamed stars in your blurred vision.

it’s here, you’re long awaited orgasm—almost, it’s at the very tip of your tongue again, the very edge.

with the way your pussy’s responding to them both, you’re dripping like a spigot — not even caring that you’re coating each of their dicks with your saturated juices. “make a mess baby,” geto whispers, a hand wrapping around your throat as your ass pressed up against him. “cum on our dicks, yeah. ride satoru ‘till he fuckin’ whines.”

the pace only quickens—gojo lies back with his head already thrown back in defeat. “i’m gonna fuckin’ die,” he whimpers, his pulsing dick at its very peak. it feels so good for him that it almost hurts. gojo spanks your ass a few times for encouragement, feeling the tightness of his jaw clench down before he feels you wring around his crazed shaft. “h-hah, that would make a good track title. ‘m gonna fuckin’ dieeee.”

“s-shut up.” you moan, slinging your arms around the popstar. one glance at him and he’s already pussy drunk.

rightfully, you lean in to kiss him as you finally cum. as expected his tongue parts inside of you sloppily, masses of his famous saliva cascades down the sides. he was nothing but a mess for you. as you’re slowing your hips down, both of them approach their own individual releases. gojo’s hands run everywhere on your body, you shudder from his touch whilst you feel geto’s hips piston itself forward. your toes grow limp as you’re finally becoming undone—gojo follows as they’re both driving the thickness of their cocks into your slick, needy entrances.

as your legs lie flat, the both of them end up finishing at the same time. it’s so much, you’re feeling yourself get dumped and it’s already starting to overflow. gojo’s filling you from the front and geto’s taking care of you from behind. “easy, rock against him like that, yeah,” he hushes you, easing his thumbs against your hips in tiny little circles to calm you down. it’s trickling into you in such a slow way, gooey velvety portions of cum oozing its way into your pussy. it’s loud too, squelch after squelch reverberating throughout the entire room that it develops its own vibrato..

“touch her, ‘toru,” geto continues, latching his tongue against the miniature bite marks that press near your neck. the popstar was worn out despite it being just a few minutes. with heaving pants departing from his lips, he brings his hands to feel against your waist, your breasts, and back down between your legs. “she did so good for us,” and he kissed the top of your head, speaking in a rasp. “gonna perform with all this this cum stuffed inside, baby?”

“y- yeah,” you whine, feeling geto abruptly pull out to where you’re just bestriding gojo now. you take a quick glance down and your panties weren’t there anymore. you sigh, you really liked those. back to gojo—his dick that was still twitching inside of you grows flaccid and he whimpers at the faint jittery motion of your hips. “fuck, we don’t have to perform. can’t satoru just cancel the show?”

“and get dragged on twitter? heh, girl no..” gojo swipes a hand across his forehead as he’s still spilling such amounts inside of you. it’s a mess, the once flashy white sofa was all ruined with nothing but a salacious mixture of soaked liquids.

speaking of though,

as gojo’s catching his final breaths with you still hovering over him, he pulls out his phone. his sheepish smile turns into a look of horror once he opens tmz. skimming his eyes against the blue-lit screen, his lip tremors as he reads the bold red and black text. “famous popstar satoru gojo, bassist suguru geto and new opening singer heard screwing … backstage?”

geto deadpans and you furrow your eyebrows, getting off of him. “how?”

“idiot still has his fuckin’ mic on.”

gojo’s eyes widen as he stares in his peripherals at his mic. not again, and indeed it was very much on and operated. you could hear the echo grow louder from the arena just a few feet down now that it was against his lips. then it hits you, the ongoing chants from outside weren’t happening anymore. now, it was just pure booing. he uses two fingers to bring his mic up to the side of his mouth before switching it to autotune. “oops. no refunds….?”

[malsmind]

ALL MINE

matt sturniolo x reader

"you told me your new man don't make you nut, that's a damn shame."

summary: your new boyfriend's an asshole so matt wants to show you how much better you could do.

warnings: cheating! (oops) smut, p in v, unprotected sex, dirty talk, matt being a little cocky, worshipping (kinda?), creampie, pet names (baby, sweetheart)

author's note: dont cheat!

wc: 1.6k

english is not my first language!

you and your boyfriend started dating a few months ago. a mutual friend introduced you and you both got along really well. to be honest, it felt very rushed. you liked him, of course, and you loved the time you two spent together, but after about two months of dating, he had already started to show how bad a of a boyfriend he really was. he would constantly flirt with other people and play it off as 'just being nice'. after you'd talked to him about it, told him how uncomfortable it made you, things went well for a few weeks before it started up again. that was not the only thing though. he was manipulative, made you believe that his overreacting, yelling and verbal abuse were perfectly valid.

rightfully, you were disappointed. he seemed like an amazing person before and when you started dating, so it really hurt and made you pissed about the fact that you opened yourself up to a relationship only to be disappointed by a guy who is just out for any and every female validation he could get.

right now, you were supposed to be out on a date with him. but you were at matt's because your boyfriend cancelled on you last minute, no explanation, but you had a suspicion, and it was confirmed after one of your friends saw your boyfriend with a girl, not just any girl, the girl you asked for your boyfriend to tell her off because she was always flirting with him, fully aware of you being his girlfriend.

you wern't sad, just angry with yourself for not seeing the signs earlier on, for not listening to the warning bells ringing in your head. "you there?" matt waved a hand infront of your face, pulling you out of your train of thoughts. "yeah, sorry."

matt sighs, trying to read your thoughts by your expression. you were unusually quiet, which given the situation you were in was fair enough. "i'm not tryna be a dick, but i did tell you he seems like an asshole..." matt shrugged, a poor attempt of 'comforting' you. he wasn't wrong, and he was not the only one with a strong opinion on your boyfriend either. you sighed, leaning back against the couch. "i just don't know why i didn't break things off when i saw how he acts with some shit." you scoffed, running your hand over your face.

matt leaned back against the couch with you, his head turned to the side so he was looking at you. "not your fault, you liked him"

you sighed, turning your head to the side to meet matt's eyes, "such a waste of time, dude.."

the room went quiet and you turned your head to look up at the ceiling, thoughts circling again. your boyfriend really was an asshole, but you tried to convince others and yourself otherwise. but deep down you knew. your last straw should've been when he let go of your hips, turning his full attention to his phone and some girls messages on it while you were on top of him with his dick inside you. he tried to tell you it was an emergency, that whoever it was that texted him was going trough some rough times, telling you to stop being so dramatic and not make a big deal out of it.

matt knew about this whole thing, and you could've sworn that when you told him about it, he was even more pissed off at your boyfriend than you were. matt's voice was just a small mumble that seemed far away from wherever you were at right now, lost in your thoughts but again, it managed to pull you out of it. "don't understand how one can even do that when their girl's on top of them" he scoffed, shaking his head, still in disbelief to what happened. his words registered in your head and your eyes widened slightly when you realized what he was talking about. you turned you head to look at him again, his eyes meeting yours.

in that moment, you didn't know what had gotten into you, because matt leaned closer, his eyes searching yours for any sings that you might pull away and ask him what the fuck he was doing, but you didn't. matt's lips landed on yours, pressing a soft kiss to them, testing the waters. you kissed him back, and matt saw his opportunity. his hand was quick to find your hip, pushing you down gently until your body laid flat on his couch, his own hovering over it.

you melted into his touch, your legs subconsciously wrapping around his waist as his lips traveled down from your lips, to your jaw until they were on your neck, sucking marks into the skin. it wasn't hard to tell where this was going, his already hard dick pressing down onto your own clothed arousal. with the way his lips worked on your neck made you grow needy, your hands developing their own mind as your fingers toyed with the waistband of his sweats.

you could feel a smirk tugging on his lips, reminding you of how wrong this was since you were still in a relationship with someone, even though you were defiently going to break that up anyway. one of matt's hands left your hip, helping you tug down his pants, his boxers coming off with them. his dick grazed your hand and you grabbed it, giving it a few stokes, earing a moan against your neck from matt. your hand on his dick turned things around, making him needy now.

his lips left your neck as he leaned back up slightly, his fingers hooking in the waistband of your pants. he looked up at you, searching your eyes. seeing the desire and need for him in them made him forget about how shitty this made him and you look. "you okay with this?" he asked, his voice low. you know you shouldn't. you know cheating was a disgusting thing and you'd never want to do that to someone, but you didn't care. your boyfriend is an asshole and it was only a matter of time before he would do the same, that's if he didn't do it already.

"yes." you breathed out, your eyes watching his hands intently as he pulled down your pants and underwear, throwing them aside and placing himself back between your spread legs. he cursed under his breath, his teeth sinking into his lower lip at the sight of your wetness. he took his dick into his hand, rubbing his tip up and down your folds, coating himself in your juices. matt's eyes snapped up to yours when he pushed his hips forwad, slowly sinking into your wet hole. your lips parted, your own eyes never leaving his.

his hands found your hips when he bottomed out, squeezing them to ground himself at the feeling of your walls squeezing him so tightly. he buried his face in your neck, placing soft kisses to it as he started to thrust in and out of you at a steady pace. your legs tightened around matt's waist, small, breathy moans escaping your lips when his hips picked up their pace. "you're so hot, baby. fuckin' love your body." matt moaned into your neck, his hips snapping into yours. his hands are all over you. "all mine..." he mumbled, squeezing your tits lightly, exploring every single inch of your body with his fingertips before holding onto your hips again, like he was trying to hold on to the moment.

"you deserve so much better... fuck.." he murmured, his lips starting to pplace kisses all over your neck again, fucking into you harder, faster, making you feel good, making it his only purpose. "so fuckin' beautiful. feel so good, sweetheart". matt's words and actions made you feel things you've never felt with anyone else. you felt amazing, about yourself, about the moment, everything felt so good when thos words left his lips, the feeling of your orgasm approaching taking over your body.

matt smirked, very aware of what he made you feel. his lips kissed up your neck until they landed on your lips again, swallowing your moans. "i want you to look at me when you cum on my cock, can you do that f'me? hm?" he whispered against your lips. you could only moan in response, his dick moving in and out of you, one hand coming down between your bodies to rub your clit. matt moved his head to look down at your face and you opened your eyes, staring right back into his. his dick moved in and out of you, one of his hands let go of your hip to reach between your bodies, rubbing your clit, driving you over the edge.

your walls tightening around him along with the loud moans leaving your lips, all together with the intense eye contact you were struggling to hold made it difficult for him to hold back his own orgasm. "where do you want me?" he breathed out between gasps, slowing his hips down the slightest so he wouldn't nut right then and there. "inside.. fuck.." you managed to moan out, and he didn't need to be told twice.

his hips snapped into yours, making your moans grow louder again due to the oversensetivity you were still feeling from your orgasm. he gave you a few hard and deep thrusts before his head dropped down, burying his face in your neck again as his cum filled you up, low, almost whiny moans leaving his lips, vibrating against the sensetive skin of your neck...

no matter what happened tonight, no matter how bad you should feel, you never felt better.

dividers by @bernardsbendystraws !!

this has been approved by the wife too 😌 @rcklessheavn

@middlepartmatt @emely9274 @impossiblecollectorcat @staargazr @sllutty-sturniolo @shadowthesim237 @sturns-mermaid @courta13 @grace-sturnz @sofia-is-a-sturniolo-triplet-fan @ncm9696 @sophand4n4 @amyiasturnl @ivysturnss @matts-247 @sammi-leighdestiny

[sematarygirls]

Okay but he’d fuck you so hard when they lose the Super Bowl after you spends an hour gloating about the eagles handing their asses to them!

i saw this request and started giggling and kicking my feet omg. anon, i owe you my first born child. you are a GENIUS! (although, fair warning, i'm not great at writing smut. i hope this is okay <3) not proofread

cw: unprotected p in v, rough sex, mean rafe, slapping, degradation

Football tended to be a touchy subject between you and Rafe. Where you were a diehard Eagles fan, he wouldn't be caught dead rooting for them. After the Chiefs narrowly beat out the Eagles in the 2023 Super Bowl, Rafe wouldn't shut up for weeks about how "trash" the Eagles were. It drove you absolutely insane.

That's why, when the Eagles absolutely kicked ass this Super Bowl in a rematch against the Chiefs, beating them out at a whopping 40-22, you thought it was your well-deserved right to rub it in Rafe's face, much to his dismay.

One thing about Rafe is that gloating is only okay when he does it—much like a lot of other things (he's a very hypocritical guy), hence his growing anger when you wouldn't stop talking about how the Chiefs absolutely threw the game with all their fumbles, making jokes the whole time about how it seemed like they weren't even playing.

Another thing about Rafe? He tended to get violent when he was angry. With other people, this meant he'd kick their asses, but with you, it meant you were in for a long night of rough fucking to make him feel better and put you in your place for your "bratty attitude."

Though, if you tried to point out the hypocrisy with him finding your actions annoying when he had done the exact same two years prior, he would only get more annoyed and very, very defensive.

You'd learned at a very early stage in your relationship that some battles were not worth fighting with Rafe, and besides, you kind of liked it when he was all rough with you, manhandling and degrading you deliciously.

"Not so mouthy now, huh?" He taunted, pounding into you from behind. Each thrust pushed you forward a little bit, your face burying further into the pillows as you moaned. A sharp slap to your ass had you gasping, the pain sending a jolt of pleasure to your core that had you practically gushing around Rafe's thick length. You didn't know how long you'd been going at this with him, but he hadn't let you cum, nor had he let up the brutal pace.

"Look at you," he sneered. "Can't even think of anything to say back to me, huh? Thought you were gonna gloat all night about how the Eagles won." His words were cruel and biting, revealing the depth of his anger, which wasn't about the football game. It was more so about being challenged, his ego hurt after talking such a big game about how the Chiefs were going to dominate.

You couldn't form a coherent sentence. Your brain turned to mush as the only thing you could focus on were his rough hands on you and his length stretching your velvety walls. You could practically feel each ridge and vein of his cock as it slid back and forth, his tip nudging your cervix roughly with each pass.

"What happened to that smart mouth, huh?" He mocked. "Your dumb little brain's too desperate for cock, huh, bunny," he cooed, his tone patronizing as he continued to pound into you with rough strokes, making your back arch and eyes roll back.

He was so mean, but you loved it.

He was right. You couldn't respond to him anymore. You had lost your ability to form a single word, dumbed down to a mess of please sounds as he hit that sweet spot inside of you so perfectly. He took that as a victory, seeing it as proof that you knew your place. He loved it when you whimpered underneath him, completely at his mercy. "Look who's behaving now. You're lucky you're so pretty, honey," he continued, enjoying this little game of his. "Otherwise, I wouldn't put up with such a bratty mouth."

"Fuuuuuck," he groaned, giving your ass another sharp smack before his hands found your hips again, his grip bordering on painful. "And this fuckin' love this pussy. Fuckin' perfect, baby."

He was getting close. You could tell by the way his pace started to falter, and his words switched from degrading to praising. One hand slipped down to your clit, rubbing firm circles. Even when he was pissed, he still tried to make you cum first.

It didn't take much more effort on his part. Your thighs were already trembling, desperate for release from the moment he'd thrown you onto the bed and ripped your clothes off.

"You're gonna be a good girl now, huh? You're gonna stop being such a pain in the ass, aren't you?" He questioned, punctuating each question with a thrust. "No more running your mouth and riling me up, right?"

"Uh huh," you whined pathetically, needy and desperate to cum.

He knew he had you right where he wanted you, all pliant and begging. "Yeah, you gonna stop talking back, huh? You can be a good little bunny for me, can't you?" He cooed, his words sounding a little bit less harsh. He was enjoying having you like this, completely at his mercy.

All you could muster was a weak nod, your fingers gripping the sheets and mouth parted in ecstacy as you reached your peak, blinding pleasure overtaking your body as your walls clamped down around his cock.

"That's it, baby, just like that," he groaned, pumping a few more times before pushing deep inside you and releasing spurts of hot, sticky cum into your eager cunt.