#you’ll be seeing him again in a few months lol

[westside-rot]

Talk To Me Nice

Pairing: Terry Richmond X Black reader

No warnings for this one. Hopefully there aren't too many errors cuz it's only lightly edited. I'm trying to squeeze in my last post of the year lol

This little idea is the result of a writing prompt and @megamindsecretlair keeping me honest about writing something every day. Figured I'd share the results with whoever else wants to check it out.

“That’s a bit harsh my love…”

After spending the last 20 minutes filling your home with negative energy you expected reciprocation.  Instead you were being derailed with a new form of gaslighting, the kind reserved for evolved men who appeared harmless on the surface but harbored a petty side few got to see. Though impressive, you knew Terry was only using kind words to paint himself the victim. It didn’t matter how many steps ahead you thought you were. The guilt still hit with the same bruising force.

Six months of newlywed bliss cruelly interrupted by disappointment you never wanted to feel so early into your marriage. Perhaps there was a better way to convey that hurt to your husband. Maybe sitting him down for a mature conversation would’ve spared you from the growing pressure around your temples and the rawness in your throat from all the yelling you’d been doing. You were convinced the window for apologies and grand romantic gestures had closed. He'd started it. You were damn sure going to finish it.

You pushed through your doubts and committed to your frustrations with arms folded tightly across your chest, the initial urge to roll your eyes shifting to a hard, resolute stare. “Well Terrence sometimes harsh is necessary.”

He scratched his beard and nodded as though you’d just agreed on what to have for dinner. Silence took over the room once again, intensifying the conflict between you. His eyes never broke contact.

“Are you done?” From anyone else the question would’ve triggered your inner toxic and possibly resulted in the police being called. But there was note of calmness in your husband’s voice that exonerated him from the accusation before it became your new truth. Terry wasn’t being dismissive. He was simply better at regulating his emotions.  His inability to stop wringing his hands together revealed the stress hidden within. For a second time you were forced to ignore your guilt for the sake of winning. Mirroring his casual demeanor, you continued to stand firm and prepared for whatever he intended to say next.

“I must’ve imagined sitting in premarital counseling for all those weeks. Or maybe I was the only one taking it seriously. That must be it 'cause at the first sign of a problem you’ve broken every promise we made to each other.” His words landed direct hits on your conscience. Everything holding you together began to cave under the weight of his response. Terry wasn’t wrong. Instinctively, you went into defense mode anyway.  

“That’s not fai—”

“Nah, you’re not about to interrupt me. I let you speak. You’ll show me the same respect. Understand?” The natural base in his voice instantly got your attention. Yes sir rang so clearly in your mind you weren’t entirely convinced you hadn’t said it out loud. You prayed Terry couldn’t somehow feel the lust pulsing alongside everything else flooding your system. One day soon under normal circumstances you were going to explore his newfound aggressive side. How, you weren’t entirely sure. With a new goal seared into your brain and soaked through panties clinging to your ass you managed to retain a sense of dignity as you obeyed your husband’s command. 

“You’re my wife. One day you’ll be the mother of our children. I refuse to let them hear us talking crazy to each other, so I’m gonna need you to find a better way to communicate your feelings. If I need to sign us back up for therapy I will but this shit ends tonight.”

All the fight drained from your body. Shame took its place. In its presence you were finally able to recall those important conversations leading up to your wedding, the dreams you shared, the legacy you wanted to create. If not for your anger you could have revisited them sooner and found a better use for them. Now you were facing an evening apart, perhaps more depending on how long Terry held on to a grudge.

All you could do was stare at the ground and wait for it to be over with. Hopefully you’d find a way to sleep knowing you had failed your first test as a wife. When your lip started to quiver you promptly bit down on it to keep your hurt feelings in check.  You hadn’t behaved in a way deserving of care but when Terry's long fingers reached out to palm the side of your face you sought out his warmth like a needy kitten.

“Now you’re breaking my heart.”

“I can’t help it. Did you have to be so mean?” Though you found your ability to speak you burrowed your pout lips further into his hand. The loudest person in the room didn’t deserve to cry. If you were lucky you'd disappear and rematerialize tomorrow with more sense.

“It got your attention. Besides, I thought harsh was necessary. Or does that only apply when you’re cursing me out?” He chuckled.  You weren’t persuaded by the playfulness in his voice to look up. Terry initiated the gesture with fingers affectionately placed beneath your chin. It wasn’t lost on you that he'd repositioned your face at the same proud angle you held while lecturing him as if two nights apart somehow equated to years of neglect. You wanted to look away but soon discovered his eyes remained steadfast and beautiful in the aftermath of the storm you’d caused. They connected with your soul in an instant providing a gentle assurance that you were safe with him.

 The words flowed through your upturned lips effortlessly. “I’m sorry baby. You didn’t deserve all those ugly things I said to you.” Before you could say more he captured your face in both hands, stroking your cheek with his thumb.

“You’re already forgiven my love.” Terry’s lips grazed yours as he spoke. The distance was torture. Finally, after what felt like an unbearably long time, he covered your mouth with his, reestablishing his dominance with a tenderness that sets your heart and mind at ease.  It was a proper reconciliation, but it also wasn’t enough. Not after the way you behaved tonight.

You treated the sincerity on his lips as your own personal buffet. When it became difficult to breathe you pulled away to regain control over the situation.  “I still have a lot to make up for.”

A smile tugged at his lips as he pushed the curls back from your face. “We both do. Your approach needs some work, but you had a right to be upset with me.” You nodded and yet nothing in you wanted to celebrate the vindication. You were simply relieved to know you hadn’t caused any irrevocable damage by overreacting. Even more relieved to see him smiling again.  "I think my beautiful and extremely childish wife should get the honor of going first.”

The frown you attempted to hold cracked under the pressure of his wide grin. You hate being teased. You were also guilty on all counts and willing to take your punishment. “I suppose that’s fair.”

“It’s very fair.” He mumbled between prolonged kisses down your neck.

You exhaled and curved your fingers over his broad shoulders. It was becoming harder to think or even breathe with him sucking everywhere his lips could reach. “Can we talk it out like grown-ups tomorrow?”

“Of course, baby. It's mandatory from now on.” When he spoke the guttural quality possessing his voice registered deep in the places he’s yet to touch. You felt painfully empty but knew you wouldn’t stay that way for long. At the rate his lips were moving you weren’t convinced you'd make it past the couch. You preferred the comfort of your king-sized bed the scene of your crime was a fitting place for getting down on your knees to make proper use of your mouth.

Terry surprised you when he broke the suction on your collarbone to reunite at eye level. There was a noticeable glint of mischief in his eyes before he bent down to throw you over his shoulder. You squealed and braced a hand at the center of his back for support you really didn't need.

"You better not drop me trying to be cute!"

"I was planning on letting you off easy tonight. Now I'm thinking your apology needs to be as loud as all that shit you've been talking."

"Yes daddy. Remind me what all these big strong muscles are really for. Also, please send help!"

With a single act you reclaim the home you’ve built, your gasps and combined laughter echoing along the walls as he carried you upstairs.

[kenobiwanx]

Happy New Year!!! 🌟

First of all, I want to thank each and every one of you. Thank you for supporting me and my art. This past year was a good one for me, and that's thanks to all of you!

I don’t know if I’ve mentioned this before, but I live by my art. This is my full-time job—it’s what pays my bills. And 2024 started off great: I received commissions every single month, something that hadn’t happened in previous years. That was a huge change for me, truly life-changing. I’m so grateful to everyone who decided to spend their money on my art, to trust me with your ideas, characters, and stories. It means SO much to me, and I say this from the bottom of my heart. I put everything I have into creating the best art I can for you, truly. When you message me saying how much you loved it and how much my work means to you, I cry for real. It moves me deeply. So thank you for all the kind words and support.

This is going to be a long message because I feel like I need to thank you and share a bit about myself. So, if you read all of this, you're a warrior, lol.

I don’t usually share much about myself or my personal life, but here are a few things. Well, I’m from Brazil—you probably already know that. I’m a self-taught artist, and honestly, I’m like that with everything I know how to do. I love learning on my own with the resources I have available. When I set my mind on doing something, I go all in. Drawing came into my life as a form of therapy, a way to focus on something other than my negative thoughts. I’ve always been a very anxious and depressive person and went through a lot of trauma that made things worse. Since I didn’t have the resources or support to seek professional help, I tried to find my own way—and that’s how I learned to draw!

I won’t say I’m 100% okay now because life hasn’t been easy for me. I lost my mom to breast cancer six years ago, and it had a massive impact on me and my mental health. She was my rock, my world, and losing her was devastating. She fought the disease for five years, and during that time, I was the one taking care of her, keeping the house running, and looking after my two younger siblings. I was just a teenager, but I suddenly had so many responsibilities. It messed me up a lot, but if I had to do it all over again just to have more time with my mom, I would.

I wish she were here to see how far I’ve come with my art because she was the only one who supported me back then. I know she’d be so proud of me for not giving up.

I used to do realistic traditional art before, spending a whole month on one piece. It was fun for a while, but it was just a hobby—I only sold a few pieces to family members. Then, in 2020, during the pandemic, I decided to switch to digital art. I wanted something that gave me more freedom to express myself creatively, and digital art offers that. So, I started learning. And guess who became my muse for this journey?

Yep, Pedro Pascal, lol. From my very first digital drawing, he was my go-to subject. And let me tell you, those early drawings weren’t great, poor guy, lmao. But thank God, I improved! I’m still drawing him to this day, and he’s been a huge reason I’ve gotten so many commissions since most of them are of his characters. I’m incredibly grateful to him and the roles he plays.

Anyway, I’m working on rebuilding myself, trying to move forward, achieve my goals, and take things step by step. This Christmas, I was able to buy a huge drawing tablet, which was a big milestone for me. I used to do everything on a small tablet, so this was a major upgrade—and it’s all thanks to everyone who commissioned me this year. Thank you from the bottom of my heart.

I hope 2025 will be just as good. I hope you’ll all stick with me and keep asking for commissions, lol. I wish you all the best in life, that you achieve everything you dream of, and that you stay healthy. Please take care of your mental health too; it’s just as important as your physical health.

I have a lot of personal projects I want to work on this year—art ideas I’ve set aside for years that I hope to finish in 2025.

This year, I plan to open commissions every month. The only exception will be if my waitlist gets full before I open them officially, like who Dm me to reserve a slot earlier, which happened in December. My DMs are always open!

I’ll also be updating my price sheet, adding new information to my terms and conditions, and increasing my prices. It’s been about two years since I last updated them, so it’s time. But don’t worry—it’ll only be an increase of about $10-$15. I still want to keep my art affordable for everyone.

I’ll sort all of that out in the coming days, so stay tuned for updates!

My January waitlist is already open, and there are a few people in line. If you want to reserve a spot, feel free! Just keep in mind the price adjustment I mentioned earlier.

I think that’s everything! I know this was a lot of text, lmao.

Thank you again, everyone! Happy New Year, and I love you all! And I love you, Pedro Pascal!

[vacantgodling]

Hello I am here to pay back the attention you gave me, if you want it lol. Pwease tell me about your art style. Do you feel like you really have one? Did you develop it on purpose (and if so, how), or did it just gradually come about?

i always want attention LMAO

oooo so this is a very interesting question and like tbh i didn’t really develop it on purpose. art has always been a PURE hobby for me, and by pure, i mean i refused to really put Extreme effort into learning it as a “craft.” figure drawing bores me, i don’t want to sit down and spend Hours trying to learn anatomy and shit etc etc. much of my style has been really influenced by

things and art styles that i like

the need to doodle possessing me at literally all times.

doodling was my adhd “go to” thing bc my brain needs to focus on something else while i do stuff. i used to read a lot in class as a kiddo but then teachers complained to my mom that i was being “distracting” somehow (??? still don’t get this) so i started doodling instead so it looked like i was still working LMAO.

a lot of my artstyle is definitely influenced by anime and manga like i’m a weeb through and through or whatever. but usually if i see something i like or i learn new ways to draw something after watching or seeing something else i’ll incorporate it into my belief system.

i think an easy example to showcase ALLA this is kind of this thing i’ve been doing since 2021 where i’ve redrawn the same character a few times:

so like, as you kinda see it’s getting more and more detailed. like more practice, more doodling, but it’s actually super hard for me to personally tell when my artstyle is changing? so that’s why doing this redraw the past few years has actually been super illuminating bc i can actually SEE how my style has gotten different. cuz tbh i don’t feel like i’m doing anything different but like i must be for these to all come out SO differently lol

i hope that makes sense?? i don’t really think about art too deeply i usually pick up my ipad and go “i’m gonna get silly :3” fjfjfjfn

[selfcarecap]

Over Each Other [L.H.]

Logan Howlett x female!reader

summary: Logan and you are just friends – you have a boyfriend, after all. But sometimes when you and your boyfriend are arguing, Logan listens and jerks off to it. He knows you two will break up soon, and he’s just finding ways to patiently pass the time until you can be his. Until one night, you’ve fought your final argument with your boyfriend and are in need of some comfort that Logan is more than happy to provide.

warnings: smut 18+ like this is more sexual and less fluffy (or angsty) than the summary sounds tbh (m masturbation, oral sex f receiving, unprotected piv, creampie, Logan calls reader princess, good girl, bub, baby), kinda toxic i mean you read the summary but still a sweet fic, reader is vulnerable so Logan could be seen to be taking advantage of her so don’t read if you don’t like, excuse the dramatic title and a few lines (from Linkin Park’s Over Each Other) because this is also me working through some feelings lmao, this is obviously not at aaalllll a realistic depiction of healing from a break-up lol (although I sincerely believe it would work with Logan..), X-Mansion era

note: not the fic I was expecting to be my first fic in over a month but my heart needed this so here you go <3 i also only proofread once so lmk if there are any atrocious typos lmao | gorgeous dividers by @dollywons

word count: 3.9k oops wth 

Logan knows he’s a bad man. He’s killed people, innocent people, committed countless crimes, done more evil things than he can ever remember. But now he knows he’s a bad man because of something entirely different. 

Logan shamelessly jerks off to the sound of you and your boyfriend arguing. 

He doesn’t even need to use his heightened hearing, that’s how loud you two are. Night after night after night he listens to you arguing, stroking his cock to the rhythm of your voice. 

You always have the upper hand — he would never masturbate to your pain or to you being degraded. Your boyfriend is a fucking idiot and you’re not afraid to let him know. Logan is sure he’s not the only one who knows that your relationship will end soon, and he’s fine to give you the time you need. Logan is a patient man these days; he can wait. But he’ll make the wait worth his while. 

He gains pleasure from knowing that soon you two will break up, and you’ll be all his.

Logan sees the way you look at him, senses the way your heartbeat speeds up that little bit when he smiles at you, smells a spike in your pheromones when he’s around. And he’s no different when it comes to you.

The more you and your stupid boyfriend argue, the closer you get to breaking up, and the closer Logan gets to his release. 

He’s listening to your moans of frustration this evening and imagines turning them into moans of pleasure, imagines licking your pussy until you’ve forgot all about your little boyfriend. Logan’s fist speeds up around his dick, hips moving up to fuck into his hand as he thinks of you and your gorgeous face.

Logan cums with your voice in his head, with the thought of you and your boyfriend finally breaking up, and shoots cum all over his own hand, down his forearm, and over his abs. He jerks off until he’s satisfied, lying in his bed a mess for a second – his hand coated in his cum, his happy trail sticky.

When Logan’s breath slows down, he realises your voice has stopped. You’re not arguing anymore – you must have gone to sleep. Then he hears your voice again, this time much closer.

“Logan?” A quiet knock at his door, “It’s me, you still awake?”

He pulls his sweatpants back in place and reaches for a tissue, only for his hand to land in the empty box. In a panic, Logan takes off the shirt that he’d pushed up over his abs, and uses it to clean himself of his release, using his freshly washed shirt like a rag.

“One second!” He calls out as he rubs the bunched up shirt over his happy trail to get it all off. Logan throws the dirty shirt into the corner of the room, and opens the door shirtless.

His heart drops when he sees the state you’re in, cheeks wet with tears and clinging to a teddy bear Logan once got you.

“Um… we just broke up. Can I come in? I know it’s late…”

Logan ushers you inside before the sentence has fully left your lips. Now he feels a twinge of guilt – he was too busy trying to get off to realise it was a serious argument this time. Maybe he jerks off more to the concept of you and that dumb boyfriend (ex-boyfriend) arguing and how hot you sound putting that guy in his place all confidently, than the actual fight.

As much as it pains him to see you hurt, he has to smile behind your back for a second when he closes the door. But a shiver runs up his spine when you let your guard down once you’re alone with Logan, all teary-eyed and small and sad. 

Logan sits you down on his bed as you tell him the full story. 

I tried to find my patience… 

All we did was talk over each other… 

 It was all a waste of time… 

There was nothing underneath… 

 I'm so tired of talking over each other…

Logan hugs you while you cling to him, your words barely audible with how you’re smothered against his naked shoulder. He gently rubs your back, and it only makes you hold onto him tighter. 

“Shh, shh baby, I’m here for you. It’s gonna be okay.” The pet name just slips out. Logan barely realises what he’s said until you look up at him all doe-eyed, nodding your head frantically. 

“I’m okay,” you say, “For now. Thank you for listening.”

“Of course, do you want to stay here for the night?”

“If you don’t mind.”

“‘Course I don’t mind, bub. I like having you here. Even better if it means I can take care of you while you need someone,” Logan says, and watches a soft smile spread on your face.

You sit up to wipe your eyes, only to realise you have no tears left. It’s been an hour since you got here, and you’ve calmed down. 

Logan held you, said all the right things, helped you see things clearly. You’re better off without that guy, and you know Logan will be here for you until you’re over him. More importantly, you’re sure he will be there for you beyond that too.

“Here you go,” Logan takes your teddy and gives him a special place on his nightstand, and lets you wrap your arms around him as you settle against his chest. He’s not sure what to do next, but it’s late and he assumes you have no energy to do anything other than sleep.

It surprises him when you speak up a few minutes later, though your voice is quiet.

“He couldn’t even make me cum…”

Logan looks at you and finds a pout on your lips but a glint in your eyes, the warm glow of his bedside lamp making you look like an angel.

He chuckles, “So you’re crying over a man that couldn’t even make his girl feel good?”

You nod your head and smile bashfully.

“When was the last time you were fucked well?”

You look away from Logan as you think, “Uh, I dunno.” 

“Hhmm. You didn’t miss it in all that time you were together?”

You turn to your side to lean up on your elbow, more awake again, “Well, I did. But maybe now I can… find someone better.”

You’re looking up right at Logan through your pretty eyelashes, and it’s subtle but so seductive, but he knows you’re too shy to initiate something, especially now when you probably feel guilty for not mourning your relationship more. But Logan is proud of you for realising your worth and ending it. Your ex should be the only one sad right now, not you.

“Of course you will,” Logan tells you, “You’ll find someone who loves you more than that idiot ever could and someone who will fuck you as good as you deserve.”

“Hmm, you think so?”

“I know so, bub.”

You give him a smile and move to lie down on your belly, head resting on your folded up arms. Your scooting around moves the blanket, pulling it off of Logan’s lap, revealing the half-hard bulge under his sweatpants. 

Logan pulls the blanket back in place, but he’s not sure if you saw.

“How will I know if I’m being fucked well? If I don’t have a reference…” you play with your hands, not looking at Logan.

“I could always show you,” Logan smiles, patiently waiting for you to gain the confidence to look back into his eyes, and you do.

“Only if you want to. But if I’m interpreting your signals right then..” you nod to his lap with a teasing smile.

“You saw…” Logan rolls his eyes at himself which earns him a sweet laugh from you, “Didn’t want you to think your pain makes me hard, or that I’m taking advantage of you.”

“Do I look like I’m in pain right now?” you giggle, a huge smile on your face, cheeks already getting warm with arousal, “And if you wanted to take advantage I’m sure you wouldn’t have waited for me to bring it up.”

“You sure about this, bub? We have all the time in the world.”

“I want you now, Logan. Been waiting to get the courage to break up with him so I could finally have a chance at being with you.”

“Really?” Logan asks, but you’re busy letting your gaze drift down his body, fixed on his lap now. Logan moves closer, and he takes your face in his hands, chuckling “You still with me, bub?”

You don’t reply. Instead, you push your mouth against his, and it’s the most intense kiss Logan has ever experienced. It’s like Logan can feel himself pulling all the pain from you with his lips, eating your pain alive and swallowing it, never to be seen again.

He doesn’t even have to open his eyes to know that you’re smiling more than you have in weeks. He can feel a new energy radiating off your body. Something is healing in you. 

You kiss until you’re both breathless, smiling and horny. Logan’s erection is pressing against your leg, and he can practically smell how wet you are.

“Tell me what you need, baby,” Logan says, heart beating fast from how turned on he is.

You pause for a second, grinning and almost too needy to think, “Tell me what you want to do to me.”

“How about I show you?” Logan lies you on your back, slowly pushing your oversized sleep shirt over your hips, and kissing down your body, down to your knees and over your shins.

“Is this okay? Tell me if you wanna stop.”

“Don’t stop,” you breathe, skin heating up where he touches you to gently pull your knees apart, “Never stop.”

Logan chuckles against your warm skin where he kisses you, from the side of your knee to your upper inner thigh. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted you, how long I've needed you.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” It’s hard to talk, but you’re getting the words out somehow, “Could’ve been with you ages ago.”

“Didn’t want to intervene with anything. You needed your time to break up. And I know good things take time, and…” his words die in his throat when his lips move to your panties. They’re soaked with wetness, and Logan inhales you, something between a moan and a whimper leaving his mouth.

“God, baby…” he whispers, settling down between your legs and then lifting them up over his shoulders, “You have no idea how badly I need to eat your pussy right now. Can I?”

You nod, fighting the urge to rip your panties off yourself.

“Use your words, princess.”

“Yes, Logan.. yes, yes.” It’s the only word you can think of right now, with the heat of his mouth so close to your clothed pussy. He smirks at your words and nuzzles his cheek between your legs, leaving your clit throbbing and the spot on your panties growing larger.

You clench around nothing when Logan trails the tip of his tongue up and down your pussy over your panties, your legs squeezing around his head, hands finding his hair.

“You gonna be a good girl for me and stop squirming? I wanna take my time with you, baby.” 

You nod and close your eyes for a moment, unsure if you can stop. But then Logan slowly pulls your panties to the side and seems to forget about wanting to take his time himself.

“Such a pretty fucking pussy, baby–” he interrupts his own words by burying his face between your legs, licking his way up from your pussy to the top of your clit and moaning as if it were the best meal he’s ever tasted.

You tighten your hand in his hair to pull him even closer and he obeys your silent command, burying his face in you more, his beard, lips and nose now wet with you. Logan licks into your pussy, tasting you like a man starved, one of his big hands coming up your body to place it over your tit.

“So fucking perfect,” he mumbles more to himself, finger playing with your nipple as his tongue plays with your clit. It’s been so long since you experienced this type of pleasure that you’re close already.

“Logan…” it comes out as a whimper, and he smirks as he lifts his head to look at you.

“Yes, princess?”

“Might not last long..” you say, and it takes everything in you not to push his head down.

“That’s the point, baby,” he smiles, and goes back down. He brings his hands between your legs to spread your pussy lips so that he can get even closer. You feel vulnerable spread open for him like this, but it’s a comfortable vulnerability. Your heart feels content. You know you can trust him. He won’t hurt you.

You’re so wet that you’re almost embarrassed by how loud it sounds when Logan eats your pussy. A pleasure you’ve been missing in your life for a while rushes through your body when Logan begins to suck on your clit, and your back arches off the bed.

You cum with Logan’s name a whisper on your lips, and he doesn’t stop until you’re seeing stars and pushing his head away. 

Logan sits up from between your legs with a grin, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and then licking it clean right after.

“You okay?” He smiles, and you realise how hard you’re panting.

“Yeah. I almost forgot what that feels like,” you confess.

“What, cumming?”

You nod with a pout that Logan quickly kisses away, covering your body with his as he hovers over you.

“Trust me, bub, we’ll make you remember all of it. You up for more tonight?”

“Yes,” you reply embarrassingly fast. You’re not sure you could stop if you wanted to, your body pumped full with the happiness hormones you haven’t felt in all too long.

Logan holds himself up over you with one arm, pulling down his pants. You’d tease him about the wet spot of precum on them, but you’re far too horny to think of what to say.

“Good, because you taste so delicious, baby, you’re not getting rid of me between your legs any time soon,” he smirks, leaning down to kiss you as you grin against him. You don’t want him to leave, ever.

His big hand finds your thigh, and he gently pushes a finger in, then two, kissing you and watching your face for any signs of discomfort, but all you’re doing is arching your back for him to push deeper.

“You want it, baby?”

You look down Logan’s body, eyes settling on his hard and wanting cock, the tip glistening with precum, “Mhmm,” you nod frantically, “I want it.”

“Been a while though…” you add hesitantly.

“It’s okay, princess. I’ll be gentle. We’ve got all the time in the world, okay?” He leans his forehead against yours and a smile spreads over your face again.

“Okay.” You lean up to kiss him, both of you getting lost in the way your tongues feel against each other for a few moments.

“Here,” Logan rubs a few messy circles over your pussy, his palm getting slick with your wetness. He wraps a hand around his dick, stroking himself a few times to coat himself in the feeling of you.

“I’m ready,” you tell Logan before he can ask.

“Good girl.”

Logan trails his thumb over your cheek and gives you a chaste kiss, and butterflies erupt in your belly.

“You have no idea how happy I am right now,” he says, and all you can do is look back up at him lovingly.

“You want me to put it in?” he asks, teasingly slapping his cock against your clit a few times. Then, he suddenly pauses.

The warmth of him above you is gone, but he’s not far. He’s leaning over to his bedside table, turning your teddy bear away from you two.

“He doesn’t need to see this,” he says all seriously, and you giggle.

You help him take off your shirt, and you’re bare underneath, and as good as it feels to have Logan distracted by how good your boobs look for a bit, you need him somewhere else.

“Logan?” you ask, and he looks back up at you, a nipple still in his mouth.

“Yes?” he licks a broad stripe over your nipple as he says it, and it comes out muffled.

“Kind of need you somewhere else.”

“Oh, do you, princess?” Logan hovers over you again, leaning on one forearm as his other hand rests on your tit, and he’s smirking down at you, “Where would that be?”

You grin widely, biting your lip as you carefully take his hand off you, and bring it between your legs. You don’t even have to guide him all the way to your pussy before his hand is gone from yours and he’s cupping your wet, warm pussy.

“Here, baby?” he brings two fingers up to his mouth to suck your wetness off them, and you nod as if in a trance.

“Okay, bub, you sure?”

“Yesss, Logan,” you let out a pathetic groan of frustration, your chest vibrating with the sound.

He smirks, bringing his hand, still slick with his spit, to your cheeks and squishing them together, “You’re so adorable when you’re horny, you know that, princess?” You bat his hand away at his teasing, but your grin might be even bigger than his.

Logan finally lifts one of your legs and pushes it up against your chest, rubbing a few lazy circles on your clit before he rubs the tip of his cock through your folds. He’s doing it to tease you, but you see him lose his own composure, expression turning into a frown of neediness.

You share another quick but sloppy kiss during which you take Logan’s cock and rub it against your pussy. He only pulls away from the kiss to finally put the tip inside you.

“God,” he groans at just the first few inches, and you both calm yourself down to make sure this isn’t over immediately.

“I can take it,” you say, wrapping your arms around Logan’s neck.

“You’re my good girl, hm? Gonna take my cock? You sure?”

“Yes, Logan. Need all of it, please.”

“I got you, baby. I’ll give you anything you want.” 

Logan slides his cock inside you, inch by inch, and you both moan when he bottoms out. 

“You feel good?” He asks, and all you can do is nod. You groan, only at the fact that he’s not moving yet.

“Me too, baby, me too,” he smiles, slowly starting to move, beginning to fuck you. And he was right, he’s fucking you well. Better than anything you’ve ever felt.

He pulls out almost entirely for the first few thrusts, then stuffing you full of his big cock again, your wet pussy pulsing around him, sucking him back in. Your heart beats happily against your chest and he can feel it too; he’s slotted against your body as closely as he can be.

“Such a good girl, taking me so well. You still okay, princess?”

You grin and take his face to kiss him, his hips stilling just as he’s buried inside you as deeply as possible. You make out with him for a few seconds, pussy spasming around his uncontrollably, and you feel Logan squirm and pull out of you a bit because he doesn’t want to cum yet.

“That’s how good I feel,” you smile up at him.

Logan grins, burying his face in your neck to kiss you there as his hips begin to move again. He kisses over your jaw and your cheeks as a hand comes down to rub your clit. Together with his dick inside you, pulsing with warmth and pleasure, you suddenly feel all the energy of your body flowing between your thighs again.

You whimper against Logan’s face, your cheek catching against his.

“You close, baby?”

“Mhhm,” is the only sound you can muster as you cling to Logan, letting him fuck your pussy and play with your clit until you’re almost there.

“Such a good girl for me. Want you to cum for me, alright, princess? Gonna feel so fucking good, yeah?”

Your response is a whimper against his lips as you let go, and pleasure floods your body. Your pussy clenches around Logan’s dick, and while he’s still rubbing your clit, fucking you through your orgasm, he cums.

Logan cums so much you’re not sure where your orgasm ends and his begins, but you know you don’t stop feeling good until he’s drained until the last drop and your pussy is stuffed full with his cum.

You both slow down bit by bit, breathless and grinning at each other, not letting go. When Logan brings his hand back up between your faces, it’s slick with your wetness and covered in his cum, and you take his wrist to guide him towards your face.

You look Logan in the eyes as you suck his and your cum off his fingers, one by one, and Logan kisses you the second you’re done.

“You’re so fucking perfect,” he whispers in your ear, slowly pulling out of you and pulling you into his arms when he lies down.

“Thank you,” you respond shyly, unsure what to say. You’re too happy to pay attention to your words.

“I’m always here for you, baby. You know that. And as soon as you’re ready to move on, I’ll take you on the best date of your life, okay?”

You grin, kissing his lips, “Okay. And until then?”

“Until then I’ll eat that pretty pussy of yours every evening, and you can sleep in my bed whenever you don’t feel like being alone. Sound good?”

You wrap your arms around his neck, cuddling against his chest, your heart warm and happy as you feel yourself getting tired, “Sounds good.”

P.S. thank you for reading <3 reblog and let me know what you liked most about this fic for Logan to come and eat your pussy out every night <3

[capuccinodoll]

Honey love, dark eyes

♡ Chapter one ♡

Summary: It’s Joel’s birthday, your best friend. As usual, you and Sarah are getting everything ready to celebrate, just like you have for years. However, while preparing dinner before Joel gets home from work, Sarah tells you that her dad has been seeing a mysterious woman for the past couple of weeks. This wouldn’t be an issue, except he’s been deliberately hiding it from you, even going out of his way to lie about it.

Though you try to keep your anger in check to avoid ruining his birthday, your emotions get the better of you later that night when it’s just the two of you. Joel doesn’t hold back either, sparking a heated argument that pushes you both further than ever before.

Word count: 9.4K

A/N: Okay, I was planning for the first chapter to be 4K words MAX, but my imagination went crazy with this lol I really hope you like it. I really enjoyed writing this <3 warning: ANGST! don't forget to leave feedback, tell me what you think!

If you want to be on the tag list, let me know too.

You met him on the night of your twenty-second birthday, at the small party Cassie had put together for you in her dimly lit apartment. You hadn’t wanted much of a celebration, nothing bigger than a few close friends, and certainly not a group of strangers. But when Brianna swept in, holding hands with a man you didn’t know, and introduced him as her boyfriend, you felt a vague flicker of annoyance, the kind that accompanies unmet expectations.

"I thought it was just going to be us," you mumbled to Cassie, catching her in the kitchen as she poured herself another glass of wine.

She looked at you, her cheeks already flushed, eyes bright. "They're a few of my friends, too; they’re nice—you’ll like them if you give it a chance." She smiled, urging you to relax, as though she could tease you out of your mood. "It’s your birthday; don’t be so sullen."

"I didn’t know Brianna was bringing her boyfriend," you said quietly, as Cassie started back to the living room.

She paused, giving you a half-smile over her shoulder. "Neither did I, actually," she admitted, lowering her voice. "Apparently, they've been together for about a month. She’s really into him."

And she was. Brianna clung to him all night, her laughter spilling out freely, unrestrained and buoyant from the wine. It wasn’t long before someone suggested karaoke, and as voices rang out in the next room, you slipped quietly back into the kitchen, craving a moment of solitude. You were surprised to find Brianna’s boyfriend there, leaning against the counter, scrolling absently through his phone with a glass of water in hand.

He looked up, straightened, and offered you a tentative smile. “Oh, hi. Happy birthday,” he said, his voice warm but reserved. “Sorry, I didn’t get a chance to say it earlier…”

“No worries,” you replied, your tone reassuring. “Thanks.”

He hesitated, as though weighing what to say next. “Are you having a good time?”

You gave a slight shrug. “It’s…” but before you could finish, he cut in with a knowing smile.

“It’s okay. I don’t love my birthday either.” His eyes glinted in the soft kitchen light, and you felt a small smile tugging at your own lips.

You looked at him then, really looked at him, allowing yourself the indulgence. “I didn’t want to admit it,” you said, feeling the faintest hint of heat rising to your cheeks. “What was your name again?”

“Joel,” he answered, his gaze drifting briefly back to his phone. “Sorry, I’m a little on edge tonight. Left my daughter with a new babysitter. I think she’s having a rough time.”

Your eyebrows rose in mild surprise; you hadn’t pegged him as a dad. You moved closer, pouring yourself a glass of orange juice and asked, “How old is she?”

“Four. Her name’s Sarah.” He ran a hand through his hair, and you could tell he was tense. “It’s only the second time she’s been with this sitter, and apparently, she’s been crying all evening.”

“Oh, poor thing,” you murmured sympathetically. “She’s little. Changes like that must be hard on her.”

He sighed, his gaze drifting to the side as he typed something quickly on his phone. “I should probably get going. Brianna won’t love that idea; we’d planned to stay out…” He paused, eyes flicking up to meet yours, worry etched across his face. “You think she’ll be too mad?”

“No,” you assured him, though you knew Brianna wouldn’t be pleased. “Go be with your daughter. She’s little; she needs you. Brianna will understand.”

A grateful smile spread across Joel’s face, and for the first time, you noticed the faint dimple on his cheek. For a fleeting second, you wanted to reach out, trace it with your thumb.

“Thanks,” he murmured, his eyes lingering on you in a way that felt unintentional, yet steady. “I hope your night gets better once karaoke is over,” he added with a quiet laugh. "Wish me luck."

You chuckled, meeting his gaze. “Good luck, Joel.”

He left with that same soft smile, and you watched him go, his warm brown eyes leaving an odd impression, like an unclaimed memory. And, as expected, Brianna didn’t understand. She spent the rest of the night sulking, casting sharp words at Joel through her bitterness.

“You knew he had a daughter when you got with him, this was bound to happen at some point,” Cassie told her, fed up with the other's complaints.

You didn't hear the answer, as you were distracted by watching the colorful pictures someone had put on the television.

You heard nothing more from Joel for a couple of weeks, until Cassie blurted out the gossip one morning while you were having lunch at her house.

“He broke up with her,” she began to tell you. “He told her she wasn't being empathetic and that he couldn't drop everything to party with her as if they had no responsibilities.”

It was no surprise. Brianna was a woman who lived at night; she was twenty-three years old and enjoyed it with the freedom that was rightfully hers. You couldn't blame her for wanting to have fun with her boyfriend. But Joel lived a very different reality than she did; at twenty-eight, he had a daughter to take care of, routines to follow, and a lot of work to do.

Although you thought it would take her longer to get over him, it wasn't long before she met a guy at her gym and got into it with him, outgrowing Joel in a matter of days. But for some reason, Joel’s warm, steady gaze stayed with you, like a whisper that hadn’t fully faded.

Years passed quietly, slipping through your fingers like sand until, suddenly, it was your twenty-sixth birthday. This time, the scene was different: you’d moved into your own place just two days earlier, and there was little thought of celebrating. Instead, the weekend found you alone, arranging your things and attempting to bring order to the chaos of a new home.

It was a crisp Saturday morning, and you stood in your front yard with a glass of fresh-squeezed orange juice in hand, humming along to some eighties tune drifting in from the living room. The song—one of those upbeat ones that made even housework feel light—had lifted your spirits, and you moved rhythmically as you pushed plastic flowers into the dirt along the front path, sending little puffs of air to make the petals flutter.

You were lost in your task when you heard soft footsteps behind you, instinctively making you turn.

“Oh, hello,” you said, quickly masking the slight surprise the girl’s sudden appearance had given you.

She looked at you with wide, curious eyes, seemingly unfazed by her solo adventure.

“Hi. What’s your name? Do you live here?” she asked, her gaze shifting from your face to the flowers in your hands.

Glancing around for any sign of her parents, you noted her relaxed stance, like she’d been coming here all her life. Smiling, you nodded and gave her your name. “Yep, I just moved in.”

She looked unimpressed. “This house was empty for a while. I didn’t like the kid who lived here before. He was a pain in the ass—”

“Sarah!” came a sharp voice from behind, making you jump slightly. Heavy footsteps approached, and you squinted against the sun to see a figure striding toward you, his features obscured by the bright morning light.

When he stepped closer, his face came into focus, and your breath caught. You knew him.

“Sarah, you can’t just leave the house like that,” he said sternly, a furrow in his brow, his tone more parental than reproachful.

He turned to you, and the scowl softened as recognition dawned.

“Joel,” you murmured, the name slipping out before you even meant to say it aloud.

His expression shifted into a surprised smile, and that was all it took to break the ice between you. You explained that you’d just moved in and were still settling. Joel offered to help with anything you needed, including taking a look around the house to ensure everything was in order. He formally introduced you to Sarah, now eight years old, who had nearly scared him to death by sneaking out. She had his same lively spark in her eyes, a brightness that seemed familiar.

That evening, Sarah invited you to dinner with them, leaving Joel with little choice but to agree. And one dinner became many, as evenings blurred into weekends, and you found Joel’s presence in your life weaving into something inseparable from your routine. He started popping by to help with small projects, fixing kitchen cabinets or adjusting the wobbly front steps, visits stretching into movie marathons or lazy conversations with cold beer in hand. Days flowed into evenings of chatting over the meals you cooked to share with Sarah, and sometimes her uncle Tommy. Though Joel claimed he was no cook, his barbecues were legendary, and you couldn’t deny you looked forward to them most of all. And soon enough, he was there for everything, from driving you to doctor’s appointments to accompanying you on those grocery runs he pretended to hate. He even started showing up early on days he knew you’d need a ride. Over time, he became the best friend you’d ever had, a safe place, someone who felt like family. With everyone else scattered—Cassie overseas, old friends moved away—Joel became your rock.

It wasn’t something you dared to admit to yourself often, but you couldn’t imagine your life without him. And maybe that’s why you never allowed yourself to voice those little fleeting thoughts, the ones that flitted through your mind every now and then: how safe you felt whenever he threw his arm around your shoulders, or how good he looked reclining on his couch after a long day. Or how perfect it felt when the three of you—Sarah dozing on his lap, you leaning into his shoulder—sat together in the warm silence of a Sunday afternoon. There was an ache, too, a quiet pang whenever he mentioned another woman. Thankfully, that was rare; Joel once told you, with a shrug, that he “wasn’t really looking for that sort of thing.”

Sometimes, you watched him carefully as you talked about your own dates, hoping to catch a glimmer of jealousy in his gaze, some subtle cue that maybe he felt the same way. But there was never anything you wanted to see, and you always felt silly for looking. So, you buried it all. The risk of ruining things with Joel wasn’t worth the confession.

One afternoon, however, your emotions almost escaped your eyes when, while preparing Joel's birthday cake, Sarah dropped a piece of news that caught you off guard. She told you, with her usual nonchalance, that Joel had gone out the night before with someone new.

“Yeah, it’s like… the third time they’ve gone out,” Sarah mentioned while spreading cream on the sponge cake. “I don’t know her name or anything, just that he met her in line at the bank,” a laugh choked in her throat, amused at imagining her father flirting with some woman in a public space.

You forced a smile, laughing along like it was funny.

"And who stayed with you last night?” you asked, trying to keep your tone casual.

Not that Sarah was necessarily a baby; she was already twelve and extremely independent. But Joel never left her alone if he went out for the night, he knew how much she loved spending time with you watching movies and eating junk food. Then, when he arrived, you would pester him with gossipy questions and he would pretend to get angry and then answer every one of them.

“Uncle Tommy," she said, eyeing her work with satisfaction. “We had fun, but I kinda wished you’d come too. Hey, what do you think?” she fingered the cream neatly arranged with the angled knife.

“It's perfect,” you smiled at her, not waiting too long to ask the question you wanted so badly. “Why didn't you call me then?”

Sarah started sprinkling colorful sprinkles on top of the cream and looked at you for a second when she noticed the tone in your voice at the last word. She didn't seem to think much of it.

“You were busy, weren't you? Dad said you had something to do.”

Her answer hit you like a small weight to the chest. Joel had purposefully left you out. He’d even made an excuse for Sarah’s benefit. So, there had been three dates—three times he’d kept this woman a secret. A small knot formed in your stomach as you forced yourself to smile, still watching Sarah as she concentrated on the last of the sprinkles.

In the kitchen, you were running your hand through the steam from the beef stew on the stove—Joel’s favorite—when the door opened. His footsteps grew louder, approaching, and you nervously adjusted the dress you’d chosen, one you knew he liked, though he’d never said it. It was your favorite too, a cream-colored sundress with delicate shoulder ties.

Sarah sprang forward, covering his eyes. “Don’t look, the table’s not ready.”

You hurried to set the glasses in their places, your hands a little shaky as you moved, hoping he wouldn’t notice the flush creeping up your cheeks.

“I don’t need to see it—I can smell it, and it smells incredible,” Joel grinned beneath Sarah’s tiny hands, which she’d plastered over his eyes, half to keep him from sneaking a glance, half just because she could.

“Too bad you don’t smell incredible,” Sarah retorted with a smirk, wrinkling her nose. "Go take a shower!"

You laughed, catching Joel’s raised brow at her.

“You’ve got five minutes,” you said, placing the lid on the simmering pot.

Joel snorted, brushing Sarah’s hands away from his face.

“That’s the smell of a hardworking man,” he replied, feigning offense as he turned for the stairs. “Y’all oughtta know.”

*

Later, the three of you sat around the table, and Joel took his first bite of the stew, eyes widening, a kind of bliss washing over his face. He tossed his head back and groaned.

“Sweet Glory,” he mumbled, closing his eyes. “Thank you for this.”

“Oh, come on,” you teased, though part of you couldn’t help but feel a pang of something between irritation and flattery. “You say that every time I cook for you.”

He shook his head, smiling as he chewed, then spoke softly, his gaze slipping downward.

“I’m not exaggerating—I love everything you do.” A pause, and then a quick, awkward clarification. “I mean, everything you cook.”

The clarification was like a line drawn in the sand, a boundary etched by his voice alone.

You smiled weakly and inwardly thankful when Sarah spoke, telling you about something that had happened at her school that week and distracting you from the question that was spellbinding your tongue. You were dying to ask it, to look him in the eye and ask: who did you go out with last night? Why didn't you tell me? Is it someone I know? Is that it?... But you didn't, you stayed quiet and participated in the pleasant conversation, celebrating his birthday as he deserved. After all, no matter how much it angered you that he kept things from you, it was still his special day.

After dinner, Sarah forced Joel to sit in front of his cake, two lit number candles glowing in front of him. You turned out the lights, watching as the light from the flames reflected beautifully in your best friend's dark pupils.

Joel was wearing a black T-shirt and dark jeans, his hair was still barely damp from the shower he'd taken before, and his sun-kissed tan face looked smooth, decorated by the beard and mustache you loved so much. Behind him, his shadow vibrated and spread across the wall with grandeur.

“Make a wish!” Sarah cheered, bouncing with excitement as she placed her small hands on his shoulders.

Joel smiled, closed his eyes, and blew out the candles. In the dimness, you leaned in and kissed his cheek softly.

“Happy birthday, old man,” you whispered, your hand resting gently on his neck.

He reached for your hand, pressing a warm, lingering kiss into your palm. “I’m not that old,” he muttered with a mock frown.

Sarah giggled, holding a knife to cut the cake and licking a dab of frosting from her thumb. “You’ll be forty in four years,” she teased, catching your amused expression.

Joel scoffed, scratching his stomach as he stood back up, turning to you with a smile that made you forget, just for a moment, all the questions you were holding back. There was only Joel, his rumbling laugh, Sarah’s delighted giggles. It felt like home.

Sarah gave him his gift first: a copy of Curtis and Viper 2 with the deleted scenes and a mystery box. When he opened it, a smile formed on his lips.

He pulled out a weathered wristwatch, broken for months, now polished and repaired.

“I took it in to be fixed. Do you like it?” Sarah asked, eyes wide with anticipation.

Joel nodded, eyes softening as he extended his wrist for her to put it on. “It’s perfect, baby.”

“Let's watch the movie later,” Sarah said. “You can't fall asleep.”

“Let's see which one of us falls asleep first,” you joked, and you were right. Joel had been working all afternoon and Sarah had been yawning for hours.

You turned and picked up the box resting beside your feet, handing it to him. When he opened it, Joel pulled out a black cloth garment and a paper envelope. He tugged at the cloth, revealing a thick, soft jacket. He read the label and a smile appeared on his lips.

“I saw it and thought of you,” you said, mimicking his gesture.

“How much did you pay for this?”

“Don't worry about it, it had to be yours,” you noted as you stood up and took it from his hand. “Here, stand up. Let's see how it fits you.”

“And what if it doesn't fit? Do we have to travel to Rome to exchange it?”

You laughed, then helped him slide it over his shoulders, a comfortable, familiar movement.

“I know you by heart, I couldn't be wrong.”

“So?” he asked, smiling coquettishly. Your stomach tingled and you decided to ignore it.

“Lookin’ good, Dad,” Sarah chimed in, her innocent smile lighting up the moment. “Bet someone special will love it, too.”

Joel smiled weakly, as if he was trying to tell her something with his eyes, and for a second you hated the thought of your gift being enjoyed by someone else. You imagined him getting ready to go out with her -whoever she was-, running his hand through his hair and perfuming his neck as he did from time to time whenever he went out with someone. You knew that perfume perfectly, you'd recognize it anywhere, though you were sure it wouldn't smell the same on anyone else. Joel added his own scent to it, and you loved it.

“Okay, now, open the envelope,” you urged, your voice unintentionally sharper than you meant.

Joel sat back down and opened the blue paper envelope. He read the note carefully and when he looked up, you and Sarah were looking at him excitedly.

“Sunshine, did you pay for this?” he asked you, a soft disbelief in his tone.

Inside were three plane tickets. Sarah had helped you pick the destination—somewhere none of you had been but would love.

When you nodded, he let out a soft sigh. “Let me cover part of it.”

You groaned, rolling your eyes. “It’s my birthday gift to you, Joel. It’s all settled. You need a vacation, and we certainly do too, don't we?”

“That's right,” Sarah confirmed, smiling complicitly.

He sighed, shaking his head. “You’re too good to me.”

But he smiled, tucking the tickets back into the envelope.

Time with Joel and Sarah was easy. When you were with them, hours slipped away, and the heaviness of everything else seemed to dissolve. You felt at home, and sometimes it left you wondering about Sarah’s mother, about how anyone could have left them. Didn’t she see how extraordinary they were? Didn’t she realize what she’d lost?

You thought about this as you relaxed on the couch beside Joel, Sarah curled up with her head on your shoulder. Her breathing had slowed, and you smiled, realizing she’d fallen asleep. Three glasses sat on the coffee table: the wine Joel had opened just before dinner—a bottle you’d brought back from your last trip to Italy—and Sarah’s lemon soda. Joel snorted softly, glancing at his daughter with a smirk, then leaned over and pressed a kiss to her forehead.

“Fallen soldier,” he whispered, smiling.

You laughed, brushing a hand over Sarah’s hair. “She’s tired. She was up all afternoon making your cake, you know? Tried the cream three times before she got it right.”

Joel sighed, an apologetic note in his voice. “I know, sorry I was late. I know she wanted me here sooner.”

Curtis and Viper 2 was halfway through on the TV, forgotten in the background. Joel straightened, signaling he’d take Sarah to bed, and you shifted to make room as he lifted her, carrying her toward the stairs. You watched him disappear down the hallway, and as the house fell into a quiet lull, that familiar disappointment stirred in your chest. Now, without Sarah’s chatter, you’d have to keep pretending that nothing was wrong.

You took a long sip of your wine, finishing off the glass just as Joel returned. He sat down heavily beside you, causing the cushions to sink as he let out a sigh, rubbing a hand over his eyes before giving you a grateful look.

“Thanks for today, I had a great time. Sarah was very happy,” he said quietly, a warm smile appearing on his lips.

“I'm glad, hun. Although the credit goes to her, I just made dinner.”

“Doesn’t matter. You helped her, and I’m grateful. I mean that. For today, and for… all these years.” His voice softened, almost reverent.

“You don’t have to thank me,” you whispered, feeling your pulse pick up as he leaned closer, his brown eyes unreadable but soft. “You’re my family, both of you. Really, I’m the one who owes you thanks.”

He shook his head and leaned back, taking another sip of his wine.

“Not at all,” he replied, leaning back again.

You watched him for a moment, turning the weight of your question over in your mind. If you said something, he’d make an excuse. If you kept silent, the doubt would eat at you. You tried to fix your gaze on the TV, on anything other than his profile in the dim room. But the words slipped out of your mouth before you could stop yourself.

“So, what did you do last night?”

He tensed beside you, so subtly that only you could’ve noticed. “What?”

You tried to keep your tone even, hoping you didn’t sound like you’d spent all day thinking about it. “I just… didn’t see your truck out there, thought maybe you were gone or something.” It was a lie; you had fallen asleep on your couch last night, you hadn't even noticed Joel was gone.

Joel seemed to measure his words carefully. “Oh. Yeah… I just went out for a beer with Tommy,” he answered, his tone a little too casual.

Heat crept up your face, disbelief taking root. He really was holding out on you for some reason, wasn't he? The man was lying to you, and not very cleverly. Tommy had been with Sarah, what if you had seen him, hadn't he thought of that? Apparently not. 

It took a moment before you could bring yourself to say anything, watching as he glanced at you with an uneasy smile, waiting for you to believe him.

“Joel,” you murmured, not quite able to keep the accusation out of your voice. “You’re lying to me.”

He gave a nervous laugh, rubbing the back of his neck, but you didn’t let him off so easily. Before he could say anything, you spoke again.

“Tommy was with Sarah last night, here,” you pointed out, your voice firmer this time. His silence told you everything, his face drawn and uncertain as he realized you’d caught him.

After a long pause, he looked down, his voice unusually flat. “Alright, yeah. I know.”

The admission was so casual it took you by surprise, but you shook your head, feeling the ache of frustration and betrayal creep in.

“Why would you lie to me?” you pressed. “We’re friends. Why wouldn’t you tell me you’re seeing someone?”

Joel sighed, avoiding your gaze, his eyes instead locked somewhere in the distance. “It’s… it’s nothing serious,” he mumbled. “Just getting to know her. Don't make such a fuss out of it.”

“What? what you're saying doesn't make sense. You’ve kept it hidden, avoided every chance to be honest about it. Why?” you asked, trying not to let the hurt seep into your voice.

“It’s not like that,” he insisted, but his voice sounded unsure.

“So if I call Tommy right now, he’ll tell me the truth? Or did you ask him to keep this from me too?”

Finally, he met your gaze, his eyes scanning your face, reading the frustration and hurt you’d tried to keep buried. You could see it in his eyes, that familiar tug of defiance, a flash of something deeper than guilt or secrecy.

“What if I did?” His voice was almost philosophical, his gaze intense and challenging. “This is my private life. I don’t have to explain myself to anyone, not even you. Do I?”

You drew in a sharp breath. His words struck like a slap, but you steadied yourself. “You’re right, Joel. You don’t owe me explanations. But you don’t have to lie to me, either.” You looked down, feeling your voice start to waver. “You’ve never hidden your relationships from me before.”

He sighed, scrubbing his hands over his face and slumping back against the couch.

After a few seconds, he finally looked at you, a look of exasperation crossing his face.

“Because of this.” He gestured between you, his tone gentle but firm. “This reaction, right here, is exactly why I didn’t tell you.”

What Joel was saying didn’t make sense. Your frustration wasn’t over him seeing someone else; it was something else entirely, something more fundamental.

“Oh, just stop,” you snapped, voice sharp. “I’m not mad because you’re dating someone, Joel. I’m mad that you lied to me. They’re two completely different things.”

He took a breath, settling back on the couch, and turned to face you, a guarded expression crossing his face. “No, it’s always the same thing. Remember the last time I was seeing someone?”

And you did, briefly. A year ago, one of his friends had introduced him to his cousin—a woman who had just moved to town. She was polite enough, but her smiles had a brittle quality to them, and when she met Sarah, her warmth never extended beyond a single, dismissive greeting. The indifference was obvious, at least to you, and maybe you’d let that show a little too openly. Joel had caught on quickly, and after that, things with her fizzled out.

“That was different,” you argued, exasperated. “She wasn’t nice, Joel. She had zero interest in Sarah.”

He gave a bitter, half-smile. “Maybe, but it wasn’t your job to manage that. I can handle my own relationships. But you always—” he paused, thumping his chest with a finger, “you always step in. Always get defensive.”

“That’s not true!” Your voice rose as anger crept in, heating your face. “You’re just making excuses. Date whoever you want, Joel, I don’t care. But don’t lie to me, don’t insult me with these flimsy excuses. Or if you’re going to lie, at least make it convincing.”

He clenched his jaw, his gaze hardening, something fierce sparking in his eyes. “Are you sure about that?” he asked, his voice low and measured, the words hanging between you like a dare.

“Sure about what?” Your brow creased in confusion, the pulse in your chest picking up, a flurry of anger and… something else you couldn’t place, mingling with the haze of the wine.

His eyes narrowed, holding yours, unflinching. “That you don’t care. That’s what this is about, isn’t it? Because I know you, i know you to well to know you’re just jealous.”

Jealous. He thought you were jealous.

He had missed the point completely. Your feelings for him were complex, that much was true. But you had learned, or thought you had learned, to carry them quietly. Your friendship with him had come to feel like a sturdy house you could live inside without having to ask too much of it. Having him in your life was enough.

But now, you felt that house shift, cracks spreading through the walls. His inability to trust you hurt more deeply than you’d expected. The openness you’d once trusted was fracturing. You felt the sting of tears prick at your eyes, the words he’d thrown out so casually cutting to the quick.

“Fuck you, Joel,” you muttered, standing abruptly, storming to the door and slamming it shut behind you. You barely heard him call your name as you left, fury driving you down the front steps, the cool night air biting at your cheeks.

Honestly, he could go fuck himself.

Just as your hand reached your front door, his footsteps closed in behind you, his strides fast enough to catch up. You tried to close the door before he could reach you, but his hand caught it just in time, his voice heavy with irritation.

“Just go away, Joel,” you said, barely glancing at him. “I don’t want to see you again.”

“That’s not true, and you know it.” His voice was calm, almost pleading.

You stepped back, reluctantly letting him into the foyer. He’d have come in anyway.

“I mean it, God. Go home,” you insisted, your voice wavering, betraying the anger mixed with something else.

He shook his head, taking a few steps closer, his jaw tight. “Can we just talk?”

“Talk?” you repeated incredulously. “Talk about what? About how wrong you are?”

He didn’t flinch, but his eyes darkened. “Don’t act like what I said was crazy,” he said, voice steady but a little sharper now.

You scoffed, throwing your hands up. “Oh, so now I’m jealous, is that it? Then, by your logic, you must’ve been jealous too, right? Like last month, when Travis asked me out. Because if that’s the case, then we’re having the same conversation, aren’t we?”

Joel clicked his tongue, tilting his head with an exaggerated sigh. “No, Travis is just a jerk. And I don’t like him, plain and simple.”

Travis Dunn, your neighbor, had moved in a few months after you did. Handsome, tall, and friendly, everyone on the street adored him—everyone except Joel. He couldn’t seem to stand him, though Travis was always polite to him.

Last month, when Travis had asked you out, Joel had practically laughed in your face when you told him about it, muttering something dismissive as if the very idea was absurd. You’d told Travis you were busy, though deep down you knew the real reason you hadn’t accepted was because of Joel’s disapproval.

You shook your head, exasperated. “Travis isn’t a jerk, Joel, you just don’t like him. He’s nice, honestly, much nicer than some people, if we’re being honest here. Everyone loves him; you’re the only one who has a problem with him.”

“Then everyone’s as much of an idiot as he is, sunshine.”

“Oh, really? Or maybe… you’re jealous of him?” Your tone was teasing, but you felt the shift as soon as you said it.

Joel’s mouth twitched in a half-smile, but the humor didn’t reach his eyes. He ran his tongue over his lips, shaking his head slowly, twice.

“Don’t turn this on me,” he said. “This isn’t about Travis or me.”

“No?” you shot back, voice edged with challenge. “So if I go tomorrow and say yes to him, that wouldn’t bother you at all, right?”

He stepped closer to you, his eyes dark with something you’d never seen in him before. The air seemed to thicken, his presence so intense it felt as though it wrapped around you. He leaned in, his face close enough that his words brushed your skin.

“You can do whatever you want, baby. It’s your fucking life.”

“And you can do whatever you want too, Joel. That’s the fucking point!” you nearly shouted, hands pushing against his shoulders, shoving him away. “I don’t care what you do! It’s already clear you don’t get it, you don’t get anything, ANYTHING!”

Joel staggered back for a split second, but it wasn’t long before he closed the distance again, though he didn’t get as close this time.

His voice was lower, a thread of something hard in his tone. “If you’re so insulted by the idea of being jealous, maybe that’s something for you to think about. Ever thought of doing a little introspection?”

“Are you drunk, Joel?” you asked, eyes narrowed, softening your voice a fraction. The argument was exhausting you, and the anger left you feeling hollow.

He laughed, an odd, choked sound. “Oh, c'mon, you know one bottle of wine ain't enough to get me drunk.”

“Yeah, but you’re tired, and you’re not exactly young, Joel,” you said, brushing past him, his gaze glued to you the entire time. “Alcohol hits you differently now. Just go home, leave me alone.”

“Fine. I’ll leave you alone, and maybe then you can run across the street and fuck Travis Dunn, if you want it so badly,” he shot back, impatience tinging his voice as he turned toward the still-open door.

The words hit you like a slap. You froze for a moment, the anger washing over you in a wave. Before you could think twice, you rushed up to him, gripping his arm tightly to force him to turn and look at you.

“What the hell did you just say, Joel?” you hissed, grabbing his shirt, fingers bunching in the fabric as you backed him up until his shoulders hit the wall by the door. “Go on, say it again!”

Your breaths came fast, chest rising and falling as the rush of anger pushed tears to your eyes. You couldn’t believe he’d actually spoken to you like that, cutting right through to something raw and vulnerable. He’d never spoken to you like that before. Maybe he was a little drunk, or maybe he was losing his mind.

But there was no softness in his gaze, no hint of the Joel you knew. His stare was sharp, almost wild with something simmering underneath, something you didn’t understand. To you, this whole argument made no sense, at least not his reaction.

Joel’s grip on your wrist was firm, almost grounding, as he pulled you closer, pressing your palm against his chest. “I can’t stand that asshole, but go ahead and fuck him if you want,” he spat, voice laced with frustration. “Go fuck the whole neighborhood while you’re at it. I really don’t care anymore.”

His words were harsh, designed to cut, but they only drew a laugh from you—sharp and derisive. A tear slipped down your cheek, uninvited.

“What, did you ever care?” you asked, your voice trembling on the last syllable, thick with emotion.

But Joel didn’t respond, and the silence ignited a fire in you, something that swirled beneath the surface, ready to boil over.

“Do you know why we’re friends, Joel?” Your pulse quickened, each beat like a drum in your ears. “Because it just works between us. There are no ulterior motives. You know why? Because I don’t like you like that. You’re not even my type, and you never will be. And no, I’m not jealous that you’re dating some woman you’ll probably dump in less than a month, so get the fuck over it and leave me the fuck alone!”

You watched as his gaze flickered between your eyes, uncertainty warring with something darker. Suddenly, with an unexpected strength, Joel tightened his grip on your wrist and pushed you back hard against the wall. The impact knocked the breath from your lungs, leaving you gasping as your back hit the unforgiving surface.

His expression had transformed, those deep, dark eyes piercing you like arrows. His breath quickened, crashing against your face, and you could feel your lower lip tremble as he pressed even closer, pinning you against the wall.

“You don’t know how to lie,” he murmured, his lips almost brushing against your cheek.

The sensation was unbearable; his body pressed against yours, heat radiating off him and melting you inside. You could feel the edge of something primal, something that could tip either way. But suddenly, clarity surged through you. With a burst of strength, you pushed him away, breaking free from his grasp, forcing him to pull back just enough for you to gasp for air.

But the distance felt worse. In his eyes, you recognized something you’d never seen before—desire, raw and unfiltered. It clawed at you, igniting an inexplicable need. A sigh escaped your lips, and like a match struck in a dark room, it was enough to set off an explosion. In an instant, Joel lunged at you, and you found yourself wrapped around him, mouths colliding in a desperate kiss filled with moans and the urgency of your racing hearts.

With a loud thud, Joel kicked the front door shut, his hands moving feverishly down your body, fingers skimming your thighs, slipping beneath your dress. He caressed your skin before squeezing your ass hard, drawing a moan from your lips that echoed in the small space between you. You clung to him tighter, his hands fitting around you as if they were made for this very moment.

He pulled back for a breath, the sound wet and chaotic against the walls of your home, and then his lips descended down your neck, unraveling what little sanity you had left. A moan rumbled in his throat as your hands tangled in his hair, tugging gently to tilt your head back, giving him better access to the tender spot just below your ear, your blood pulsing beneath his hungry mouth.

Joel seemed to want to devour you whole; his hands roamed erratically, trembling as his mouth kissed and bit your jaw, pressing your bodies together in a way that felt impossibly intimate. When you lifted your right leg and wrapped it around his side, he was quick to respond, hands securing your thighs, lifting you effortlessly onto his hips, burying his face against your chest.

Another moan escaped you, and he pulled you down just enough to find your lips again. “Joel,” you whispered, breathless as you parted from him, pressing your forehead against his, eyes searching his.

“Tell me to stop and I will,” he said, his voice low, almost broken, each word laced with a vulnerability you’d never heard from him before. “Do you want me to stop?”

“No,” you replied in a small, desperate cry, feeling the heat radiating from him, the thin fabric of your underwear igniting a fire deep within you.

You were dying of thirst, and he had just asked you if you would refuse a sip of water. Was he mad? You wanted to drink it all. 

No sooner had you answered than Joel pulled you off the wall, striding toward the stairs with a confident grace. You lowered your legs cautiously, meeting his lips again in a frantic, wet kiss, his tongue exploring your mouth with urgency.

You walked to your room with the agility of one who knows where to step, and once inside, you grabbed the shirt you had angrily grabbed earlier and lifted it up his body in a desperate attempt to rip it off. Joel raised his arms, letting the fabric pass over both of you and then fall to the floor, and as quickly as your hands returned to his chest, he kissed your neck again, desperate, pressing his fingers into the tender flesh of your waist, seeking a physically impossible closeness. 

His hands found your thighs once more, fingers gripping and kneading with a measured intensity that sent electric shivers through you. As he moved lower, his fingertips brushed the thin fabric of your underwear, inching closer to where you ached for him, squeezing you tighter as if to draw you in.

In a single, decisive motion, he grasped the hem of your dress and pulled it upward, the fabric sliding along your skin as he lifted it away, tossing it aside with a casual disregard that only heightened the tension in the air. He took a step back, his gaze roaming over you, from the soft curve of your face down to the tips of your toes, a look of hunger that felt almost consuming.

You weren't wearing a bra (your dress didn't require it) and your breasts fell beautifully in front of him, hard nipples and soft skin. Your chest flushed with warmth, a rosy hue creeping into your cheeks as you swallowed hard, feeling vulnerable yet exhilarated when he stepped closer.

“I’ve always loved that dress,” he said, his voice trembling with an emotion that was both reverent and raw.

“I know,” you replied, a smile curling at the corners of your lips, the moment igniting an intimacy that made your heart race.

His eyes swept down your body again, glittering with an unmistakable lust, and when he closed the distance, standing right before you, your breath caught in your throat.

His hands slid around your waist, firm yet tender, pulling you into him with a deftness that sent a thrill coursing through you. In one seamless motion, he lifted you off the ground, your feet barely grazing the floor as you instinctively stood on your tiptoes, the world narrowing to just the two of you.

Joel’s eyes darkened with a hunger that left you breathless, and he leaned in, his lips finding one of your breasts with a soft kiss that felt both electrifying and reverent. The warmth of his mouth sent a rush of heat through your body, and before you could gather your thoughts, he nipped your nipple gently, a teasing bite that sent chills racing across your skin.

His teeth grazed you just enough to elicit a gasp, a shuddering reaction that echoed in the space between you. But he didn’t linger on the sharpness of that moment; he quickly replaced the sensation with the soothing warmth of his lips, enveloping you entirely.

He sank to one knee, lowering himself until his lips brushed your stomach, the warm sensation sending ripples of desire coursing through you. His face lingered dangerously close to where you needed him most.

Joel placed his hands on your hips, fingers gripping the elastic of your underwear, his gaze locking onto yours for a moment that stretched into eternity before he slowly began to lower it, the fabric sliding down your legs and pooling at your feet. You felt his breath hitch at the sight of your now bare center, the anticipation thickening the air between you as he inched closer, finally brushing his lips against your mons pubis.

“Precious,” he murmured, and the warmth of his breath washed over you like a caress, drawing a small, needy moan from your lips. His hands parted your legs slightly, his fingers digging into your thighs, holding you firmly in place.

You cupped his face gently, as if afraid you might break him, and then, without warning, Joel licked his lips and plunged forward, his mouth connecting with you in a surprise that made your eyes flutter shut. You tangled your fingers in his hair, tugging him closer as he devoured you, his tongue working its magic as he sucked and kissed you whole, with an urgency that left you breathless.

He growled into you, the sound reverberating through your body, and you felt weakness seep into your legs, trembling under the weight of his relentless attention. Joel was eating you like a hungry man, tasting you and soaking in your juices with a fervor that felt primal, kissing you as if his life depended on it.

“Fuck,” you gasped, feeling every muscle in your body tighten as a building pressure coiled inside you.

He pulled away for just a moment, his eyes darkened with lust, a playful smile creeping onto his lips before he returned to you, closing his mouth around your clit, sucking and licking with a skill that made your head spin.

“Ah—Joel, I’m going to—I’m going to—” You struggled to articulate the intensity of what was building within you, your words stumbling over the tide of pleasure washing over you.

His voice vibrated through you, trailing off into a soft, “Mhm.”

You pulled at his hair, tugging harder as a wrenching moan escaped your throat. The world around you faded as his movements grew more frantic, his tongue flicking at you with a desperate fervor. One of his hands released your thigh, and a low groan escaped his lips as his finger found your entrance, sliding inside with an ease that made you gasp.

“Fuck me, you’re so wet,” he murmured, pausing for a moment to take in the sight of you—your cheeks flushed, eyes sparkling with lust. A satisfied smile broke across his face, and you thought he had never looked so gorgeous.

From your point of view, he looked beautiful. His bright eyes worshipped you intently, his mouth and mustache glistened bathed in you, his hair tossed by your hands mingled in all directions. Joel Miller had never looked so good.

Another finger joined the first, and you closed your eyes, surrendering to the sensation as he curled them just right, hitting that sweet spot that made you gasp for air. You gripped his hair again, pulling him closer, and he let out a throaty laugh, clearly reveling in the sight of you completely undone.

You felt his mouth on you again, the warmth of his lips kissing and sucking with an insatiable hunger that left you breathless. The sound of it was utterly obscene, echoing around the room like a carnal symphony, and it drove you to the brink of madness, your mind spinning in a dizzying haze of pleasure.

His movements grew more intense, a rhythm building that sent waves of ecstasy rippling through your body. You felt yourself teetering on the edge, your hips moving in desperate undulations, surrendering to the climax that Joel savored with unrelenting focus. Your fingers clenched around him, digging in perhaps a bit too hard, but he welcomed it, desperate to drink in every last drop of what you were offering, to savor you whole.

With a low grunt, he squeezed your hips before pulling away, the wet sound of his departure from you hanging heavy in the air. You barely registered his rise from the floor, lost in the aftershocks of pleasure, your eyes still closed as the vibrations coursed through you. It wasn’t until his hands gripped your waist that you finally blinked awake, lifting your eyelids to find him gazing down at you, his face mere inches from yours.

He leaned in, capturing your mouth again, a kiss that was both desperate and tender, igniting a fire deep within you. You could taste yourself on his tongue.

Your hands found their way around his neck, pulling him closer as you melted into the kiss. As the intensity built, you let your fingers drift down his chest, trailing lightly until they found the leather of his belt, the sensation sending shivers through you as you tugged him closer.

Joel vibrated against you, a low growl escaping as he nipped at your lower lip while you fumbled with his steel buckle, the sound of it being released becoming your new favorite melody. You unzipped his pants, your heart racing as you slipped your hand inside, finally touching him for the first time.

Your pulse quickened as you wrapped your fingers around him, feeling the heat radiating from his velvet soft skin; big, hot and throbbing in your palm. A rush of desire flooded you, and you pulled away from his lips, dropping to your knees before him, your eyes wide as you took in his form. 

There he stood, beautiful and swollen with need, and your mouth watered at the sight. You cupped him gently, drawing him closer to your lips, placing a soft kiss on the tip. Joel closed his eyes at the sensation, surrendering to the moment completely, and you traced your tongue over him, tasting the salty sweetness of his pre cum that made your insides tighten with longing.

With a hint of effort, you attempted to take him fully into your mouth, but he was too large, stretching you in ways you hadn’t expected. Joel lowered his gaze to you, his fingers caressing your jaw as you struggled to adjust.

“Slow, baby,” he urged, his voice silky yet strained, and it sent another rush of need through you. "I know you can do it."

You matched your hand to your mouth, stroking him where you couldn’t quite reach, while your other hand gently caressed his balls, moving in a synchronized rhythm. Joel tensed beneath your touch, his fingers shifting from your face to tangle in your hair, guiding you as he reveled in the pleasure you were giving him.

The sounds in the room became a symphony of pleasure, every moan and gasp echoing off the walls, and you watched as Joel's pleasure climbed. The image was enough to drive him over the edge; your pink, swollen lips covered him and his cock glistened with your saliva, dripping from your chin with every move you made. Your teary eyes looked up at him desirously, and he could take no more; his gaze was filled with a primal hunger that threatened to unravel him. He finally withdrew from your mouth with great reluctance when he felt his stomach tighten, a low complaint escaping your throat in protest.

His breathing was heavy, and a flush colored his cheeks as he lifted you effortlessly, holding you at the waist, his lips finding yours in a heated kiss. In one swift motion, he laid you back onto the bed, the mattress dipping under his weight as he moved closer; Joel kneeling and settling between your legs which you instinctively opened for him. 

You needed him, you needed him to fill you whole. You had never needed anything as much as you needed him at that moment. And as if he was reading your thoughts - or maybe he needed you as much as you needed him - he leaned in, taking your mouth with his once more, his moans blending with yours as he lost himself in you.

Your hands tangled in his hair, pulling him closer as he deepened the kiss, the taste of him igniting a fire in your veins. You felt him positioning himself at your entrance, his heat pulsing against you, and an intense sigh shot through your chest as Joel entered you in one thrust, burning and stretching you around him. 

“Oh God,” he groaned, burying his face into the crook of your neck, the warmth of his breath sending shivers down your spine. His right hand traveled to your left leg, lifting it and resting it high on his shoulder, while without hesitation, his other hand mirrored the movement with your right leg, bringing you into a position that felt both intimate and vulnerable. You were completely folded under him.

A cry escaped your lips as Joel began to move on top of you, his face hovering just inches above yours, the heat between you palpable. No one had ever penetrated you so deeply; it felt as though he was everywhere, filling you completely, every inch of you alive with sensation.

Joel's right hand gently squeezed your neck, seeking your mouth for a kiss as his movements took on a more urgent pace. The rhythmic collision of his hips against your buttocks created a beautiful sound that echoed off the walls, each thrust punctuated by the soft, desperate gasps that slipped from his mouth. Your own cries mingled with his as your body tightened again, your hands moving frantically up and down his back, your nails digging into his flesh, leaving little marks that he would surely wear like badges of pleasure. 

A broken sound escaped from Joel, raw and primal, as he sank his face into the crook of your neck once more, increasing his thrusts with a fervor that felt animalistic, as if the world outside had fallen away and this moment was all that mattered. He fucked you into the mattress with an intensity that left you breathless, as though he were trying to ground you both in this fleeting reality, where nothing else existed except for the two of you entwined together.

You melted around him, your juices mixing with his as you enveloped him completely, and just when you thought you couldn’t take any more, he lifted his head, your forehead resting against yours, his wide eyes locking into yours. You had never seen them so dark, so filled with intensity and strength.

And then it hit you: It was Joel, your Joel, the one who had been your best friend for four years, and here he was, fucking the life out of you like no one ever had before. What could possibly come after an experience like this?

“I thought you didn't like me,” he said, his voice choppy, strained with effort. A smirk played at the corners of his swollen lips. “Such a bad liar, baby, look at you.”

You growled in response, fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him towards you with a mix of force and anger. Your lips found his in a kiss that was anything but patient, igniting a spark between you. You felt him tense above you, one of his hands quickly moving to your center, exerting immense pressure as he leaned his weight on his other arm, holding you captive beneath him.

His fingers found your clit, tracing gentle circles that made your back arch involuntarily, another wave of pleasure building inside you. Your mouth was still on his, consuming him completely, when your second orgasm crashed over you like a tidal wave. You felt your insides tighten around him, squeezing him with a ferocity that pulled him closer to his own climax.

Joel gasped into your mouth, and the intensity of it sent your vision spiraling into darkness for a brief moment, the sensation so strong it felt as if the world had collapsed around you. When your breathing finally steadied, you found his hot body pressed against yours, moving in tiny tremors, quickened breaths brushing against your jaw.

He stayed inside you for a few moments longer, savoring the closeness, your hands continuing to caress his back, each touch a silent promise. Then, slowly, he pulled out of you, leaving you feeling achingly empty, his cum trickling from your entrance.

He fell limply beside you, his body slick with sweat, and pulled you close to him, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. His breaths, still heaving, crashed against your damp skin, wrapping you in warmth. Unable to muster the energy to move, you let your eyes flutter closed, surrendering to a deep, exhausted sleep that you would not remember when you woke up...

No, you didn't remember any dream, Because when you opened your eyes the next morning, you stirred in place and your muscles ached pleasantly, reminding you of the night before. And as you stretched your arms across the bed, your fingers grazed the sheets, feeling an emptiness beside you.

When you looked to your sides, the realization hit you hard.

Joel was gone.

taglist: @orcasoul

[mountainsandmayhem]

BDSMaid - Chapter 5 Part Two

Series Summary: After recently graduating you take what is supposed to be a job to save money before you go back to university to get your law degree. Your best friend offers you a job cleaning luxury homes for clients you’ll never know. Easy. Simple. Mundane. Until one of your clients is home and everything you felt was missing in your life starts to fall into place. This goes against the NDA you signed and you could get fired. Or worse, you could fall in love.

Chapter Summary: You and Joel go to a Shibari class together; an innocent date, or is it?

TW: age gap (Joel 45/reader 22), reader does have some descriptors so more of an OC. Reader has longer hair and Joel can lift her. Mutual pining, kissing. Spoiler triggers below the cut in red.

WC: 8.2k

AN: Ok fiiiiiinnnneeeeee I couldn't wait any longer and I left you all on kind of a cliffhanger. As always, thank you to my lovely @lotusbxtch for reading and encouraging and helping me grow. Thanks @mermaidgirl30 , @littlevenicebitch69 and @joelmillerisapunk for being my lil cheerleaders. @for-a-longlongtime thanks for stoping me from working on that bull rider series LOL. Ok, enjoy this slowly because I haven't even STARTED chapter 6 yet, so I doubt it will be out until late October. Dividers and banners by the oh so talented @saradika-graphics

Masterlist || Series Masterlist

TW: complete sensory deprivation (tied down, blind folded and has hearing blocked), multiple orgasms, denial

Joel

Joel has tried to keep his distance since referring to tonight as a date. He left another large tip for your clean this week and then made sure he was as busy as possible to stop himself from going home to see you. As he coaxed you into drinking the orange juice and the water he kept hearing “it’s a date” over and over again in his mind, and he’d cringe internally. He wouldn’t have blamed you if you had leaped out of that bed and ran home. The thought of you wanting him in that way is ridiculous. Not only because he’s over twice your age, but you came to him for help with building self confidence and for an escape, and then he went and said something so fucking stupid. 

He shakes his head and pulls up his emails, trying to distract himself for what feels like the one hundredth time. Of course he wants to date you, he’d be crazy not to, but he can’t blur those lines. Furthermore, even if there was the slightest chance that you felt the same way he can’t risk breaking your heart the way he’s broken so many others.

She’s going to break yours, old man. Not the other way around.

Wednesday has been absolutely crawling. Time almost mocking him with how slow it’s ticking by. As he goes over the list of tonight's guests, Tess knocks on his small office door at the club.

“Hey,” she says, plopping down in the arm chair across from the desk. “You coming tonight?”

“Of course. Looks like a good turn out. Did the instructor make it in ok?”

“Cap picked her up from the airport yesterday and got her all settled at the hotel. Do you think you’re going to need me tonight?”

Joel cocks an eyebrow at her. He’s known Tess since she was ten. Her and Tommy are the same age, Joel being two years their senior. Aside from a few months when Tess and Tommy were sixteen, the three of them have been inseparable ever since. Tess was usually the undeclared leader of the group due to her bossy nature, but she kept the Miller brothers out of trouble most of the time. 

“What’s wrong, Tess?”

“Nothin’,” she crosses her arms across her chest. “I am the planner, you and Tommy are the personality. I’m fine to stay behind the scenes for this one.”

“You’ve been acting strange since the poker night.”

She rolls her eyes at him. She’s probably the only person ballsy enough to do that to Joel besides Tommy, but Joel’s almost convinced his little brother is more dumb than ballsy. “I’m fine, Joel. The staff is all in good morale, and that’s my department. Remember?”

Joel just stares as she continues, lowering her voice to mock his. “I need you to be the people person. Hire them, train them. I’m not patient enough because I’m a big scary dom who will just want to spank them for not listening. I also can’t plan anything because I have a man brain.”

“Hilarious,” Joel deadpans as Tess laughs at her own jokes. “I’m being serious though, are you sure you're ok?”

“Yes, you don’t need to be concerned about me. I’m actually a little gutted I’m gonna miss it. Tommy told me there’s been a very pretty young lady hanging around you lately.”

Joel puts his reading glasses on with one hand and pointing to his door with the other. “Out.”

You

Joel referring to tonight as a date has been on loop for the last few days. He has this amazing way of shutting off your brain and then leaving you with so many new questions. Either way, when a few more college letters came over the last few days you convinced yourself that right before leaving for the shibari-demonstration-slash-date was the best time to open them. 

Odette and Jamie sit on the couch across from you as you slide open the first letter. The thick eggshell parchment stamped with the Yale logo pops open easily. You close your eyes as you open the paper, the only sound in the room is the thundering of your heart behind your ribs. 

You peel your eyes open and read out loud. “We regret to inform you that you have not…” your voice falls off, fingers shaking as you put it back in the envelope.

“Hey, we expected a few no’s,” Jamie says gently, always the optimist.

Odette takes the other approach, “Their fucking loss, bunch of stuffy old cunts! Next!”

You laugh at the juxtaposition of your friends' responses and reach for the Harvard letter. “We regret to inform you…”

“Keep going babe,” Jamie says softly.

You pick up the bright white Columbia letter. “We regret to inform you…fuck.” You feel the defeat start to creep in, like thick morning fog. It’s suffocating, choking all the happiness and excitement you had for tonight. 

“What the fuck is wrong with these schools!” Odette says, snatching the letters up so she can check for herself. “Do the Toronto one, Canadians are supposed to be nice.”

“I can’t open anymore,” you say as your head falls back into the sofa. The fog starts to spread through your body, shutting you down inch by inch. You know you have to open the rest. You’ll spend the rest of the night wondering what they say if you don’t finish them. “You do it, Jamie.”

She shuffles in her seat uncomfortably. She’s not the kind of girl who likes to disappoint others; she's bright and happy but at this moment she’s the only person that you can take bad news from. As if she can read your thoughts, she grabs the University of Toronto letter. The sound of the envelope popping open slices through you. She clears her throat as she opens the paper and then reads aloud the same sentence you did. The letters from Duke and Notre Dame follow the same painful routine. With each rejection your stomach swirls, nausea building on top of self doubt and anxiety. 

Six out of the eight universities you applied to have turned you down; Berkeley and the University of Austin are your only chances left at reaching your dreams. The silence in the small rental unit has you on edge, so much so that when your phone vibrates beside you you jump. A sunset beach photo from your last trip to California is the background from a text from Cap telling you he’ll be at your doorstep in about twenty minutes. 

“I gotta finish getting ready,” you say, dragging yourself to the bathroom to touch up any makeup and brush your teeth.

“Babe?” Jamie says, following you down the hall. “You wanna stay here instead of going to that mixer?”

The reminder of the lie sends a new wave of nausea through you. Tonight you became a law school reject and an even bigger liar. Don’t forget that you’re also falling in love with an unattainable man, says the glittery pink box. You mentally lift a single finger in its direction, it usually doesn’t turn on you like that. 

“I need the distraction.” You say, deciding that that’s not really a lie.

Your friends look at you with sadness in their eyes and even though you’re sad too, you wish you could tell them about Mister Miller and the club. You know they’d be excited about whatever this thing is and it would really help to have someone to decipher all the moments that live in your mind.

“It’s a date”.

When you walk through the large door from the lobby and into the club, you’re welcomed by a completely different atmosphere. It’s not all dim lights and sexy music like it normally is; instead the overhead lights are on and all the people are dressed in regular clothing or athletic wear and not the sexy outfits they’d normally pick to come here. Joel is no exception, dressed in dark wash jeans and a fitted black t-shirt. You catch the glint of his gold ring while he’s engrossed in deep conversation with a blue and purple haired woman along the edge of the dance floor. As if you’re his due north or the other side of his magnet, after just seconds of being in the same room as him, his eyes collide with yours. He mouths an ‘excuse me’ at the woman without looking away from and his long legs eat up the distance between the two of you. He meets you just before the bar and immediately wraps his arms around you, one hand coming to the nape of your neck, silently guiding your forehead to his strong chest.

“What’s wrong, sweet girl?” You love how easily he can read you, but you hate that this is the second time this week that he’s seeing you like this. You know you have moments of weakness, but you don’t let anyone see that and you DEFINITELY don’t inconvenience others with your weakness. 

“Hasn’t been my best day, but I really don’t want to talk about it.” You don’t want to dump all of this on him now, not when he looked so excited when you said you’d attend tonight. 

“Ok, I’m here for you if you want to talk about it though. You don’t have to deal with this on your own.” His lips come to the crown of your head and you breathe him in letting his ash and leather scent break down your walls. 

“I didn’t get in,” you mumble and he holds you tighter for a brief second before his hand moves to your chin and tilts up to meet your gaze.

“All of them?” he asks gently but something akin to anger flares in eyes for just a second. 

“Six of them. I haven’t heard from two.” His thumb feels like heaven as it runs along your jaw.

From across the club the blue and purple haired woman, who is now on the stage, claps her hands. “Good evening, everyone! I’m Starr. If you and your brave partners could start making your way to the floor, we can get started right away!”

“Do you want to leave?” Joel says, his warm coffee and chocolate eyes dancing around yours. No one looks at you like that; no one ever asks what you want. This is one of those looks that you wish you could talk to your friends about.

“No,” you say truthfully. “I want to be here with you.”

“I wasn’t going to let you leave without me. Do you want to go somewhere else together?”

You step back and grab his hand, his fingers thread through yours as if you do this everyday, as if this is normal, and you pull him towards the floor. He stands behind you, an arm wrapped protectively around your middle, similar to how he did the first time you went through the voyeur room. Starr introduces herself and her wife and then begins explaining rope safety and terminology like rigger and rope bunny, before launching into a step by step on tying a beautiful star harness across her wifes clothed chest. The two women hand ropes to the person who will be doing the rigging and as the rope lands in Joel’s hand your pussy flutters at the realization that you’re about to become Mister Miller’s rope bunny. You knew that coming here tonight, even if it did include lying to your friends, would help you feel better. The disappointment of being rejected is slowly replaced with an excited anticipation of learning something new with a man who has done nothing but choose you since laid your eyes on each other.

Starr projects step by step instructions up on the back wall of the stage and Joel clears his throat behind you as he begins. The sound of the rope running through his hands as he folds it in half sends a shiver up your spine. You try to distract yourself by clipping your hair up and out of the way. 

“Arms up,” he rasps, and places a light kiss on the soft curve of your neck as he wraps the rope around your ribcage, just below your breasts. You purposely wore a tight t-shirt and leggings tonight. If anyone asks, you’ll say you just assumed it would be easier to be in something form fitting rather than loose, but the truth is that you did some research on Shibari classes and it was recommended to wear clothing that was tight to the body. As he walks around you to make the first diagonal cross of your chest he says, “Are you sure you don’t want to talk about it?”

You lock your eyes with his as he loops back up, crossing the rope over your other shoulder and walks behind you. “Yes, at least not yet.” 

“Alright,” he says softly, pulling the rope back through the first band he made. “What do you want to talk about then?”

Your daughter. Your wife. The guitars and books of lyrics. Where do you see yourself in 5 years? Do you like me or do you like like me? How do you feel about an age gap romance? Your brain races with a million things you could ask, and maybe would ask on a date. However, this is anything but a date, right? A dom and sub don’t date, there are strict rules. He tells you what to do, you do it. You don’t date.

The silence between you two feels like it’s lasted forever, you flinch as you ask the first thing you can think of. “How old are you?”

“Almost forty five. It says that on my profile, sweet girl. For someone who likes research…” His voice trails off. Is he flirting?

“I refuse to look at it in case you try to pawn me off to Tommy again,” you tease. You bite your cheek to hold in all the questions you want to ask as he chuckles behind you. You lift your arms as per the next slide and he brings the rope up towards your armpit as you settle on a neutral topic. “Baseball,” you say flatly.

Joel laughs silently as he walks around your body, the rope coming across to your other armpit and he’s behind you again. “Baseball?”

“Ya, it’s America’s favourite pastime.” Joel's fingers feel warm through the fabric of your shirt as he continues to work the ropes. 

“Ok, so what do you want to discuss about baseball?” He wanders in front of you again, following the instructions perfectly.

You shrug a little, lifting your arms again as you follow along with the slides. “Did you ever play?”

Starr circles around the two of you, “Great job, Joel. You ok, honey? Not too tight anywhere?”

You shake your head no and then you and Joel get lost in each other again. “Yes, I played for most of my childhood. I was pretty good too.”

You chuckle, “Why am I not surprised.”

“What?” he says, half laughing.

“Seems like Joel Miller is good at everything,” you say lightly, almost in admiration. He’s behind you again, feeding the ropes through themselves. The back looks beautifully intricate, and you can see other couples getting frustrated before either Starr or her wife comes and helps them. You continue, “Let me guess, you were like a big all-star pitcher or something?”

“No,” he answers.

“What position did you play then?” You glance down at your chest at the star shape across your chest, the rope scrapes gently on the exposed skin of your neck with the movement. It’s stunning, exactly as the demonstration and the picture. Yep, Joel Miller is good at everything. 

A new voice joins your conversation, “Best first baseman the school has ever seen.”

You crane your neck over your right shoulder towards the source; Tommy. You clench your molars when you see him with Jade; the beautiful icy blonde woman that Joel had tied to his desk the first time you met him. Joel shifts uncomfortably as she flutters her lashes at him. “As I was saying,” Joel huffs in his brother's direction before turning his attention back to you. “I played first base and Tommy was the back catcher. Our mom pretty much put us in any sport she could afford to keep us out of trouble.” 

“That’s kind of fascinating,” you say, looking back towards the stage and trying to get back into the safe little bubble you and Joel have created. 

“I dunno about that, sweet girl.”

The combination of him using that nickname and the feeling of his fingers on your body cause another shiver to roll up your spine, and suddenly it’s just the two of you again. It’s so easy to get lost with Joel, every ounce of that fog from earlier has dissipated. He’s like the warm morning sun, chasing away all the thick haze that coated you in the darkness. “I think this is a safe nickname space only, Sweet Cheeks.”

He swats your bum gently eliciting a giggle to pass your lips before getting back to weaving the rope in and out along your spine. “Careful. Now why is it kind of fascinating?”

“I mean, Tommy played at home plate, you played at first base.”

“I don’t know where you’re going here, Freckles.”

You smile over your shoulder at Joel. “Well, don’t you see the connection? You don’t have sex with your subs, Tommy does. He goes to home plate, you stay at first base.”

Joel arches an eyebrow at you as you flash him a cheeky smile and then he lets out a laugh. A real laugh that sounds like it’s coming straight from his stomach. His big beautiful smile draws up his cheeks causing the skin around his eyes to crinkle. The sound is almost enough to make you weak at the knees. “I swear to god, Freckles, I love the way your brain works.”

The rest of the group finishes off their harnesses and Starr begins the next part, explaining now how to tie the arms around the biceps and secure them to the harness. They hand out the ropes again and you reach behind yourself to criss cross your arms and grasp your opposite elbows. Just as Joel begins folding the rope over in his hands, Jade speaks.

“She sort of hit the nail on the head with that one, Mister Miller.” Envy flares in your eyes as she steps towards Joel, leaning into him. “I can’t wait for tomorrow. I’ve missed you.”

You glance towards Joel, expecting to see him looking angry but his soft eyes meet you with guilt written all over his face. You watch his throat as he swallows hard and the happy, sparkly bubble you built bursts and the fog returns. Your heart drops to your feet, it was too good to be true, you knew it was too good to be true and he almost had you fooled. You don’t think, you just act, you need to get away from this space and all these people as bile rises in your throat.

Your feet feel heavy as you walk quickly toward the voyeur room, slipping past the closed sign that's propped up outside the curtain that conceals it. Darkness surrounds you, the rope harness feels like it’s smothering you as you try to take deep calming breaths. A flash of light from the otherside of the curtain fills the room as someone follows.

“Go away, Joel.” You say quietly, trying to force air past the lump growing in your throat. 

“It’s Tommy.” He says, flicking on a dim light and noting the way you’re pulling at the rope closest to your throat. “Let me untie you so you don’t hurt yourself.”

You step back, a wall slamming down around you. Tommy raises his hands, “Please, just let me untie you so you can breathe.”

You spin slowly, giving your back to him and he approaches. His fingers pulling and working the ropes and the irony of him removing knots as you start to mentally tie yourself up in them is enough to make you nauseous. You retreat into your mind, looking for that stupid box. I fucking told you! You practically scream at the shadow you know it’s hiding in.

“Try to slow your breathing for me,” Tommy says softly as the rope begins to loosen and fall away from your body. Tonight felt too normal, too comfortable. You started to feel like maybe Joel was feeling the same way you do, but now you feel like you’ve been slapped across the face with yet another reminder that you are not enough. Six out eight universities and the man you completely misread. 

“I’m so fucking stupid.” It doesn’t come out self deprecating or angrily. Just as if you’re stating a fact, similar to how you’d say you like the colour green. 

“No, this is on me.” The rope falls away from your body and you step away, spinning to face Tommy. “I shouldn’t have said yes when she asked me to bring her here tonight. I assumed Joel had ended it before they were in Europe.”

“What?” You breathe out in disbelief. Even though you can see the rope in Tommy’s hands, it still feels like it’s around your throat.

You wander towards the nearest couch. All those pictures, all those flirty texts and she was there the entire time? You hear your mothers voice again, ‘You might be the smartest one in this town but the real world is going to eat you up and spit you out.’ Nothing has felt more true, especially today. Six schools rejected you, selecting smarter shinier applicants and now the same thing is happening with Joel. You knew you didn’t hold a candle to her, he wanted you to go with Tommy so he could keep her, didn’t he?

‘It’s only you.’ His desperate voice from the day in his office comes out of the shadows of your mind. But it’s not only you. If he didn’t end it with her then it’s her too. You’re constantly in competitions that you have no business being in. 

“No, not ‘they’. Not like that. They were there for different things, not together,” Tommy’s voice has a hint of panic. “...I’m really fucking this night up, aren’t I?”

Just then, Joel and Jade come through the curtain. “Sweet girl….”

“No,” you say, cutting him off with a wave of your hand. You want to yell and scream and ask him what was with all that “it’s only you” bullshit.

“Baby, please, just listen to me.” Joel kneels in front of you and you stand up. His hands come to either side of the couch, keeping you there. “Please?”

You can feel his eyes on you but you keep staring straight ahead, the curtains of all the rental rooms are drawn shut. “Please just go, Joel.”

Jade steps into your line of vision and you can feel the jealousy twisting at your stomach. She’s fucking beautiful. Long icy blonde hair that looks silky to touch, slender limbs and a perfectly symmetrical face. Her make up is done to perfection, and to top it all off she was kissed by an angel in the breast department. 

“I’m sorry. I left the country a few days after I saw you for your birthday celebration. I went to Germany to get married and I wasn’t coming back.” Her eyes go soft for a second as she looks down at her bare left ring finger and then back to you. “Clearly I didn’t do either of those things. I haven’t spoken to Joel and I just assumed our regular time slots still stood.”

Even without looking down, you know Joel hasn’t looked away. From the moment you met him, you’ve been able to feel his gaze on you. It’s one of the things you like so much about him, the way he looks at you. You feel warm and seen, and most importantly, safe in his gaze.

Tommy clears his throat gently and you glance his way. “Ending things with a sub is tricky. It has to be done in person. I know Joel better than anyone else, he ended things with everyone else. He’s gonna beat the shit out of me for this, but he’s crazy about you and he’s only ever looked at one other person the way he looks at you.”

“Tommy,” Jade's voice cracks as she says his name. “I think you should untie me so I can leave. I really am sorry, to all of you.”

You watch the two of them disappear back into the main area of the club before you finally allow yourself to look down at Joel. His eyes are big and soft, he looks so vulnerable. Is this real though? When you think about how easily he can slide on his dominant mask you aren’t sure what you can and can’t trust, and that’s really fucking horrible considering trust is the most important thing between a sub and dom. He could be lying, he gains blow jobs and doing whatever else he wants to your body by keeping this up. 

But what does Tommy gain from telling you what he just did? Tommy has no skin in the game here.

Joel  

His heart is flying wildly behind his chest, blood coursing through his ears. He never thought he was going to see Jade again. Neither of them talked about it really, but after that session that you walked in on she canceled the next one and told him she was moving to be with her fiance in Germany and was getting married. He continues to look up at you; the ever growing pinch in his neck be damned, he’s not looking away. Even at this angle you manage to take his breath away. It feels like hours have gone by when you finally speak.

“I thought it was only me,” it comes out as a whisper and immediately shatters the little bits that were left of his composure. 

“It is, sweet girl. I promise you it is.”

“I want to believe you,” your voice is so calm. He doesn’t deserve you being calm right now. Or does he? You came into this very methodical. Maybe these are just sub-dom transactions to you.

“What can I do?” He says hopefully. “I’ll do anything you need, sweet girl.”

You let out a shaky breath and he can see the wall building behind your eyes, that fun goofy girl who isn’t afraid to crack a joke is slowly locking herself away. He prepares himself for you to tell him this is over, or that you need time. He reminds himself that this was always going to end in heartbreak for him, so may as well get it over with now instead of when he’s fully in love with you, before he’s learned how those warm walls of your pussy feel against his cock. Because there really will be no coming back from that if that happens.

As he tightens the muscles in his core, physically preparing for the metaphorical blow to the gut he watches your long lashes flutter shut and when you open your eyes again the wall is gone. The shimmering pools of the eyes he’s enamored by are back and relief washes over him. 

“Nothing, Mister Miller,” your voice is saccharine sweet. “Trust is the most important thing between a sub and their dom. I can’t let my own anxiety ruin this, but I might just be a bit guarded until I’ve calmed all those thoughts.”

He whispers your name, biting back a groan as your hands meet his hair. “I’m so sorry that happened, baby girl.”

“I know. So am I. I shouldn’t have gotten jealous. It’s just…”

“No, you can be jealous. I told you one thing and -.”

You tug at the strands of his hair and shush him. “I’m not done,” your voice is stern. Joel isn’t used to hearing your tone like that and he suddenly feels his chest swelling with pride. This sweet bubbly person in front of him is morphing into a confident badass. That’s probably the exact tone you’ll use in boardrooms or courtrooms when other lawyers try to talk over you and he can only hope that one day he’ll get to witness that. “I shouldn’t have gotten jealous, but I really like the way I feel around you. It’s selfish of me, but I’d like to keep feeling like this for the few months I have left here before I leave for law school.”

Selfish. He lets that word wash over him. The most selfless person he’s ever known is worried about being selfish? No, he thinks, she deserves this. Hearing you say that you’re leaving makes him feel like his chest is caving in on itself. He’ll deal with the inevitable heartbreak when you leave him. He knows those rejection letters were hard on you, but he helped you to feel better and he’s going to hold on to that and give you that for as long as he possibly can. 

Your fingers release his hair and he watches you walk the few steps to where the rope Tommy untied for you lays on the floor. He licks his lips as you bend to pick it up, eyes trailing over the delicious curves of your ass. “It would be my pleasure, sweetheart.”

You turn, walking back towards where he’s kneeling and holding the ropes out to him you say, “Is the workshop over?”

He stands up, his fingers grazing yours as he takes the rope. Electricity tingles up his forearms at the feel of your soft skin. Your body is so close to his that he can feel your soft warmth radiating against him. You being at this proximity immediately put him at ease.

“No, there’s a bodysuit tutorial right now,” he says. You nod, stepping around him. Suddenly, Joel grabs your elbow to stop you, lowering his lips to your ear, and lowering his voice to that gravelly tone he knows you love, he rasps, “I should punish you for letting another dom untie what’s mine.”

You smirk up at him, “I’d like to see you try, Sweet Cheeks.”

You

Joel works silently around you and you lose yourself for a bit in the events that unfolded tonight. Joel has knelt in front of you before, but never like that. The sad, helpless look in his eyes, the slight slump of the shoulders. He was submitting to you, and when your fingers met his scalp, he leaned into your touch. The way his body melted at your touch was intoxicating. He wasn’t Mister Miller in that room tonight, he was Joel, and the dichotomy of this man is astounding. 

After about thirty minutes of Joel twisting, turning and pulling he has your upper half tied into a zigzagged bodysuit of rope. Joel steps in front of you and bends slightly to reach between your legs. When he brings the rope between your thighs and as he feeds it through the bottom of the chest piece, the seam of your leggings brushes against your clit. You jolt at the contact, your cheeks flushing crimson as Joel's eyes meet yours in a flash of onyx and honey. He begins shaping the bottom part of the bodysuit, bent in front of you the entire time and locking eyes with yours every time he tugs the ropes into place. 

You glance nervously around the room to see if anyone else is having the same reaction. You expected this night to be fun and silly, the way a date should be. And it was for a while, but now it’s taken a very erotic turn. The blush of your cheeks warms down your chest and neck as you hold off on what could be a very vocal orgasm in front of a room of people who you don’t necessarily want to witness it.

Joel finally finishes the body suit and moves to stand behind you, his patchy facial hair brushes the shell of your ear as he whispers, his voice full of gravel, “Hands behind your back, my sweet girl. We aren’t done.”

A shiver races up your spine and your arms fly back. “So eager,” Joel says softly, grazing his teeth along the lobe of your ear, adding gasoline to the small fire that’s been building between your thighs.  

You’re sure the arm restraints only take about three minutes to complete, but it feels like hours. The three knots that lay around your wrists, forearms, and biceps keep your posture nice and tall, and your breasts pushed up through the body suit. Once he’s finished, Joel spins you to face him, and that rope works its way in between the lips of your now absolutely soaked pussy. You squeeze your thighs together, the soft expression on his face only intensifying the growing ache. He’s such a fucking tease, you think, and now he’s looking at you as if you put the stars in the sky. Finally, his dark brown eyes settle on yours and he gives you a closed lip smile.

“What?” You ask breathlessly.

“I jus’ thought that I’d go all caveman seein’ you like this,” he steps into you, one hand cupping your cheek, the other tugging on the rope near your waist, which jiggles the rope that has you on edge. Joel’s voice lowers, this next part just for you to hear. “But you just look so beautiful.”

He tugs up on the rope and pleasure courses through you as you gasp quietly. He gives you that sexy smirk that makes that dimple carve into his cheek. 

Yep, he’s a fucking tease. The little box says, confirming your thoughts. 

“You like that, sweet girl?”

He tugs again and your forehead falls to his chest. “Please, Mister Miller,” you whisper into his expensive cotton t-shirt. 

Starr interrupts the two of you, but you can’t peel yourself away from Joel right now. The slightest move of that rope might make you explode. “Well, based on that reaction I’d say you tied it just right, Joel.”

“Thank you for coming, Starr. I’m sure we’ll host one of these again soon. Tommy is by the bar, he can help you kick everyone out.”

“Joel,” she says, a slight hint of amusement in her now hushed voice. “Your rope bunny is on the verge of having an orgasm, go.”

With that he hoists you over his shoulder and walks towards the door that leads to the private rooms. “Fuckfuck, I’m gonna -” you whisper into his broad back and squeeze your thighs tighter as Joel walks. 

The second the door shuts, separating you from the others Joel puts you on your feet and jiggles the rope around your waist. “Come, baby.”

You fall into him for support, his other arm wrapping around you to hold you up as stars blur your vision. “That feel good, my little rope bunny?” 

“Yes - oh god, yes.” Your arms pull at the ropes restraining them behind your back and you can’t hold it anymore. Your orgasm practically slams through you as you gasp and moan into Joel's broad chest. “Fuck, Mister Miller.”

 “You’re so beautiful when you let go for me. I’ll never get sick of watching you like this.” He continues to work the rope as your high crests and your legs start to go weak and boneless below you.

“I can’t…p-please Mis - Fuck.” Joel lifts your lax and quivering body over his shoulder again and makes his way to his room, placing you at the foot of the bed, spinning you and pushing between your shoulder blades until your chest meets the mattress.

“Spread your legs,” he commands and you listen, moving your feet to be shoulder width apart. He wraps two cuffs around your ankles, and attaches them to the bottom of the bed posts before doing the same to the ropes around your arms. You’re trapped, stuck bent over the end of the bed and even though you’re fully clothed under all of these ropes, this is easily the hottest thing you’ve ever done. “Fuck me. How are you so goddamn sexy even when you’re fully clothed.”

You hear Joel’s footsteps around the room, gathering whatever he has decided to use on you tonight before you can feel him behind you. “Sweet girl, I do believe I read that you would be interested in sensory deprivation. Is that correct?” 

“Yes, Mister Miller,” you hum.

“Do I have your consent to blindfold you and then have you listen to music in noise canceling headphones?”

Fire erupts in your stomach, your core pulsing at the thought of him doing whatever he wants to you. “Yes, Mister Miller.”

A silky black blind fold slips over your head, Joel's large body covering your back. “What’s your safeword?” he growls, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. 

“Stegosaurus.” Just once you’d like that to not leave your lips in the whiny, desperate tone it does when he asks you that question. 

“Good girl,” he praises before the plush headphones cover your ears. All you see is black, all you hear is soft decorative piano music, and all you feel is the warmth of Joel over your buzzing skin. There’s not a single thought in your mind, everything is silent. This is what you need and you start to worry that you’ll become addicted to the way Joel makes you feel everything while thinking nothing. 

The warmth of his body disappears from you and you whimper at the loss. Your eyes clench closed as if that will help you be able to find him. A thin, pulsing vibrator hits the back of your thigh and you jump. Joel's large hands rubs your opposite hip and every muscle relaxes under his touch. The vibrator pulses softly as he moves it up your thigh, tickling along your hip, and then down the other leg. You can’t hear the sounds that you’re making but you’re sure they’re desperate, needy gasps.

After teasing your arms Joel slips something small and hard between your body and the rope that’s been torturously teasing at your clit before you feel him pull away. You adjust so your forehead is resting on the mattress before it dips with the weight of him sitting beside your head. His warm fingers wrap around your neck and he kneads the muscles.

“Mmmm, thank you Mister Miller,” you hum. 

Whatever Joel slipped against your clit comes to life, a dull vibration that is sure to be your undoing has you attempting to arch your back, but you can’t move. Your breathing quickens, short little puffs of air passing your lips. 

“I’m gonna come,” you murmur quietly, or at least you think it’s quiet since you can’t hear yourself or anything else. Joel’s strong fingers continue the delicious swirling patterns up and down the sides of your neck as you begin to shake. “Oh god - I’m so close!”

Just as you’re about to slam head first into another orgasm the vibrating stops and Joel’s fingers disappear from your skin. “No,” and this time you know it wasn’t a whisper or a whimper.

The mattress jostles and then you feel Joel behind you again. A hand comes to one of yours, coaxing it out of the fist you’ve apparently clenched before doing the same to the other. The vibrating starts stronger this time and both his hands come to yours, his thumbs massaging at your palms. It doesn’t take long this time before you’re right on that edge again.

“Fuck, Mister Miller. Puh-please don’t stop!” Your legs start the familiar shake that happens right when you’re about to tip over the edge and he doesn’t follow your wishes. The hand massage stops, quickly followed by the vibrator being switched off. You groan in frustration and he lays a quick, sharp spank over your legging clad right ass cheek. “Hnnng - sorry.”

You can’t be certain, but based on the warm puffs hitting your core you’re pretty sure he’s knelt down behind you. The vibrator comes to life again, stronger than the last two times and his hands work at massaging the muscles along the back of your thighs. This is torture; wonderful euphoric torture and as much as you want it end, you also don’t ever want him to stop making you feel this way. 

You let your eyes flutter open behind the blindfold, it’s still just as dark but you see that little pink sparkly box. The one that’s overflowing with emotion for Joel. You should push it back into the shadows or light it on fire, but instead you let it come out of the shadows completely. You see your hands reaching for the lid just as the white hot pleasure in your core gets close to the breaking point.

“Please please…Mister Miller - fuck!” You whimper and whine as it begins to burn hotter and then it’s gone and it feels like the air is being sucked forcefully out of your lungs. 

“Nonono, I can’t. Please, I need you..” Joel's large body is across your back in a second. The hard bulge in pants pressing against your ass and the memory of how good he felt and tasted in your mouth the last time has saliva pooling under your tongue. You swallow hard as one of the padded ear pieces is lifted from your ear.

Joel’s voice is deep and gruff as he says, “What do you need, my sweet girl?”

The little box of feelings vibrates at him calling you his and you kick it back into the shadows. “I need to come, Mister Miller.”

“That right? How bad?” He says teasingly before placing a feather light kiss on that sensitive spot right below your ear.

“So bad. Please, it hurts, Mister Miller.” You are pouting into the fluffy sheets, a completely whiny mess, and you realize that you’re always a mess for him. Be it a horny or depraved one, a whiny or a pouty one, he doesn’t care and if anything you think he likes it that way, likes you that way. “I want to hear you. I miss your dirty talk, please, baby!”

“Fuck,” he breathes. “I should spank you until you can’t sit tomorrow for calling me anything but Mister Miller. You know that, right?” 

“I can’t think straight. I’m sorry, just please. Please!”

He whips the headphones off of you and the vibrator hits at an intensity you have never felt before. Your pornographic scream fills the room. His large body above yours intensifies everything that was already killing you.

“That what you need, huh?”

You cry out and try to say yes but you’re sure it’s all just an incoherent mix of sounds at this point. 

“God damn, baby girl. You should see yourself right now. All tied up in knots that I made. The way your leggings hug the curves of your hips and soft, creamy thighs. You’re going to be the death of me one day.”

Tears start to flow behind your blindfold as the pleasure almost becomes too much, you haven’t come yet, and at this point you aren’t sure if you’ll survive it if you do. You have half a mind to ask Joel if an orgasm can physically split you in two because that is how you feel right now. 

“I’m - oh god - I’m…” You try to form the words but you can’t. 

One of Joel’s hands slips between his front and your tied up arms, his hand wrapping tightly around yours. His lips come to your ear as whispers. “I got you, sweet girl, just let go for me.”

“Need to see you,” you say between gasps of air and the pleasure begins to burn in your. 

Joel peels the blind fold off. You blink him into focus, his warm eyes searching your face. “Let go, you’re ok.”

As per usual, it’s his words that seem to be that final push and you let your orgasm consume you. It starts as a cold spark, a shiver up your spine and then heat flushes through every since cell in your body. You moan and writhe beneath Joel who whispers your praises like a prayer. Talking you through the intensity of the feeling. Your pussy clenches around nothing and you’re sure your panties, leggings and the rope are ruined.

“I can’t!” You gasp and Joel slows the vibration to help you ride out the decresendo of your orgasm. As the jolts of your body slow, he follows suit; the vibrator going to a dull blip and eventually nothing. Joel's thumb traces soothing patterns on the hand he’s still holding between your bodies. You take a deep and shaky breath, trying to calm your racing heart. 

“Are you ok, angel?” he asks quietly and goosebumps somehow spread along your too hot body.

“Better than ok,” you say with a small smile.

Joel’s lips meet yours, soft and pliant and so full of passion. Your eyes shut as you part your lips for him and when your tongue strokes gently against his he lets out a small whimper that causes your pulse to leap. Mentally, you grab a bigger box, stuffing it with the realization that you’re falling for this man. But you will deal with that later, right now you just need to let yourself have something that is for, well… yourself.

Joel 

He breaks the kiss, even though he doesn’t want to. Even though he knows that by breaking this kiss it’s only going to mean you going home sooner.  “I need to get you out of these ropes and get some sugar into you.”

The two of you sit in a comfortable silence as his nimble fingers work to undo your restraints, then the intricate knots that bind your arms, and lastly the bodysuit. He really did think you looked stunning all tied up. He didn’t plan for this night to go the way it did, but when he saw the slight flush of your cheeks and the way your eyes glazed over he couldn’t resist giving you what he knew you needed. He stays close, one hand protectively on your hip as you crawl onto the bed. Once he has you seated, he pulls a fuzzy grey blanket out from a basket beside the night stand and then opens the small fridge to grab you an orange juice and water.

He cracks the top of the orange juice. “Drink this for me, please.”

He watches your eyes do a quick half roll but you don’t fight him, fingers just barely grazing his as you take the juice from him. “I had fun tonight,” you say between sips as he walks to grab the coconut oil. 

Joel stands beside you. “So did I, sweetheart. Arm, please.”

You take the orange juice in your left hand and give him your right. Both of you watch as he puts oil on the few pink marks the ropes left behind. “Do you think I should change my safeword?”

He lifts one eyebrow at you and as he tends to your other arm says, “Why do you ask that.”

“I don’t know. It’s just…well, originally that little dinosaur on your coffee maker seemed so out of place. It intrigued me. Your home is beautiful, but the parts you let people see don’t give away any hints about you, except for that little dinosaur. But now that I know the whole story, it just seems too special of an item to be tied to what we do.”

“I don’t think we need to change it. You’re right, that little stegosaurus is special to me.” He sits sideways on the bed, grabbing the empty orange juice container and handing you the water. His jaw flexes once before he continues, “But so are you. I love that you felt a connection to that part of me. Ultimately, it’s your safe word, sweet girl, so you can make it anything you want, but I think it’s perfect for us.”

The soft look in your eyes as he speaks is almost enough to kill him, and when your lips twitch up ever so slightly at his words he knows he’s done for. He shouldn’t fall for you, especially since he’s sure there’s no way you’d ever feel the same way, but he can’t not fall for you.

Your name passes his lips with a nervous tremble, because he knows that what he’s about to say next is going to be his undoing. If you say yes to this next thing, if he continues spending actual time with you, he’s done.

“Ya?” you say before sucking your bottom lip through your teeth.

“Friday night is the five year anniversary party for the club. It’s a black tie event for all the VIP guests. Would you like to accompany me?”

He watches as your eyes land on your lap, your lips pressing together as if to suppress a smile. When your gaze floats back up to his, your eyes give you away. Try as you might to hide your expressions with him; he'll always know when you’re happy based on the glitter of your eyes.

“I’d really like that, Mister Miller.”

His forehead meets yours. “This might be a Sweet Cheeks moment.”

Thank you soooo much for reading! Remember to follow @mountainsandmayhem-updates for future chapters xo.

Next Chapter

[twisted-broth]

Any of the boys you want do a challenge where (they aren't dating yet) but they are at a fair and they win a bear or a prize and s/o gives them a kiss on the cheek for how many they win and s/o says if they win 10 or more they will give them a kiss on the lips and spend a week together with just them (maybe show like if some did get the kiss and how they would react?) I thought this was cute lol

This has been sitting in my drafts for like a year so I just figured I would post the parts of it that were done.

Leave it to Crowley and Grim to get you into this situation. “Every dorm has to have a booth at the fair, prefect! Maybe you’ll even earn enough money to make some renovations to that shoddy old place!”

Crowley failed to take into consideration how making a carnival attraction costs money to be any good. Any cafe service would need more money and supplies than you could afford, a show would need more than two people, and a game would need prizes.

Grim is not one for bright ideas, but it would seem there was no other solution that wouldn’t cost all your food money for the month. So this is what it came to.

“Knock down all the pins and win a kiss on the cheek from Ramshackle’s prefect! Hit all three targets and he’ll give you a kiss on the lips!!!!”

It was probably in your top five most embarrassing moments of your life as your cat basically prostituted you at the top of his lungs. Surely no one would actually be enticed by a prize like that, right?

Trey

"You always manage to find a way to keep things interesting, don't you? For once I'm glad to be at a school mandated event."

Feels bad. Plays anyway.

No hard feelings, right?

He tells you that you have nothing to worry about, he's really a lousy shot anyway (as if he's not the best spelldrive player on Heartslabyul)

He easily knocks down the first two stacks, but misses the third

Maybe he missed, maybe he found it in his heart to show you mercy

He not-so-subtly implies that he's sure he could find a different way to win the "grand prize"

Despite his big talk, he still has a noticeable blush when you give him a kiss on the cheek

He would also keep an eye on your booth for the rest of the day to make sure not too many people are winning

For your sake, of course

Jade

“It would seem you’ve found yourself in quite the situation there, prefect. Please find it in your heart to forgive me if I take advantage.”

This is the funniest shit Jade has ever seen

How stupid do you honestly have to be to get yourself into this predicament?

Of course he’s playing the game. The scowl on your face when he trades in his tickets to Grim for three baseballs fills him with unbridled delight

His aim is a little wonky and you sigh in relief when his first three balls miss the target

He feigns disappointment before handing over another few tickets to the cat and grabbing the balls again

Of course he was hustling you. He let you think that even for a second you would be safe from this menace. For shame

Each ball is thrown with such force that pins from the first stack fly into the other stacks, easily ensuring that Jade clears the game with ease

He calls it beginners luck. Asshole.

Has the biggest shit eating grin on his face as he leans down to your face to claim his prize

Rook

"Mon amour, what a dastardly situation you've been resigned to! Not to worry sweet dame, I shall save you from the beasts at your heels!"

You knew you were in trouble the minute Rook’s gaze happened to fall on your stall

His eyes narrow and he smirks as he makes his way over to the stall

He's visibly holding back his excitement as he trades his tickets in to Grim

His idea of "saving you" is to hog the game- and the prize- for himself

He hits every stack with effortless accuracy, game after game

The second all three stacks have been knocked down, he prances over to you and leans down for his kiss. You can practically see the flower emojis radiating off his satisfied smile

This will continue until Grim gets fed up with him scaring away customers, or Vil comes to drag him away

You got so used to kissing him that you almost do it again the next time he leans down to talk to you

[whimsiwitchy]

Controversially Young Girlfriend (part five)

Hugh Jackman x popstar!reader 

series masterlist & main masterlist

summary: y/n is a globally beloved pop star. She is known for her talent and dedication towards her craft. Recently, she has also been known for her preference for older men. After a breakup with her former older boyfriend, she had a run in with the hottest dilf right now, Hugh Jackman. Y/n tried to warn him, but what can she say, she has an effect on hot, older men. 

warnings: age gap (23/55), cursing, y/n used, implied shorter reader, afab reader, she/her pronouns, sexual themes.

warnings will change as the story progresses! all descriptions of real people in this story are FAKE. I do not know these people and this is purely fiction. Please let me know if I missed anything!! <3

authors note: the wait is over. yay! This isn’t how I expected this part to end but I let my mind take charge…plans change. I hope the end is okay, i’ve never written anything like that before so i’m a little nervy for y’alls reactions lol. let me know what you guys think! Enjoy <3

part five: new york changes you

The whole ‘friends for now’ deal you set with Hugh has been an enthralling experience so far. A month has passed since that night in your living room, a month of struggling to resist the charisma of Hugh Jackman. Right now, your two lives couldn’t be more different: your album had dropped three weeks ago, one week after the deal was made. It has been an absolute success with four of your songs sitting in the top ten since the drop. You were doing interview after interview and rehearsals for your tour started up this past week. Meanwhile, Hugh was living the simple life. He has been done with his Deadpool and Wolverine promo for some time now and he’s been enjoying his free time. That was something you didn’t have much of as of recent- free time. You were trying to balance the few moments of freedom between all of the people you cared for, which mostly consisted of Ashley and Hugh. It’s gotten to a point where you were inviting your friends to the tour rehearsals just to be able to see them. When the idea first popped up, you had been afraid that they would be too distracting but the outcome was the opposite. Having a mini audience that weren’t part of the tour team, allowed everyone to make changes to things with the input of outside opinions. Ashley and a small group of your other friends were rehearsal regulars now.

You’d been seeing Hugh more privately, both of you agreeing to stay out of the public eye for a little bit while the dating rumors died down. Ashley had been a little too enthusiastic about your decision to be Hugh’s friend and nothing more. You loved reminding her that it was hopefully a temporary situation while we decided if being together exclusively was the right choice for both of us. She liked to ignore that part. Her despisement towards Hugh has been a mystery to you. She was always a little protective over you, as any normal friend would be, but it had never been to this extent. 

“Ash, do you wanna come to rehearsal tomorrow. We’re finally putting the choreography on the actual stage. I think you’ll like it. It’s gonna be fun.” You ask. The two of you were currently at Target shopping for her new apartment. “Uhhh of course. I need to catch up on all of the songs I missed. Then maybe you’ll consider putting me up on stage.” The last sentence comes out more singsongy than usual as she tries to convince you. She has brought up being on stage so often, you were beginning to feel bad, but she was a shit dancer. You didn’t have the heart to tell her. “Cool. I have to be there at seven, but I was thinking you guys could show up at noon. That’s when we’re scheduled to move over to the stage.” Her eyes light up. “Ooo. Who else is coming? Please tell me you invited Taylor again, she’s fun.” She rambles on as she pushes the cart through the lamp aisle. “Oh. I didn’t invite the girls again. It’s uh…it’s just gonna be you and Hugh.” She puts the lamp she’s been observing back onto the shelf. “Actually, I just remembered I have plans tomorrow.” She states flatley and starts to push the cart again. You follow her, waiting until you enter an aisle that was free of people before confronting her. “Ashley, don't be like that.” You whine. “I’m not being like anything y/n. I just forgot I had plans.” She shrugs as she busies herself by looking at the bathroom decor on the shelves. “What do you have against him?” You blurt out. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” “Cut the shit Ash. You know exactly what I'm talking about. I can’t even mention his name without you trying to change the subject. I can’t even talk to my best friend about the guy I like because of this weird fucking grudge you have against him.” She stares at you, giving you a few slow blinks before speaking again. “Fine. I’ll be there but I can’t promise I'll be civil.” 

You didn’t push her any further, her answer was good enough for now. Target wasn’t the right place to fight with her about this and it probably wouldn’t do any good anyway. As much as you loved Ashley, she had a tendency to do and say wherever she pleased but when it came back to her, she played victim. It was becoming harder to deal with now that you weren’t children anymore. Later that night, while on facetime with Hugh, you decided to warn him about the shitshow which he was bound to end up in tomorrow.

“I’m not really sure what her deal is honestly. She won’t tell me why she doesn’t like you.” You pout. “It’s okay baby, not everyone is going to like me. I can handle it.” 

The endearments had been something that Hugh didn’t drop after the ‘just friends’ talk. You thought about talking to him about it but the words sounded too good rolling off of his tongue. You argued that it wasn’t any different than your other friends calling you ‘babe’- it wasn’t the same at all but you didn’t care. You knew it meant more to both of you. 

“I know, but it would be really nice if you two could be friends, ya know? She just gets too overprotective I guess…” You tell him, not really believing your own words. “You don’t have to come tomorrow if you don’t want to. We can pick another day for you to come if you feel like it’ll be too awkward.” “Tomorrow is fine y/n. Everything will be okay. Don’t think about it too much, I’m sure I can charm her a little bit, get her on my side.” He assures you.

Ashley was on her worst behavior and it was pissing you off. It felt like you had covered Hugh in blood and thrown him to the sharks- when you think about it, he probably would have had a better shot at fighting off the sharks. The entire day so far had been full of eye rolls and snarky comments. When you had a moment alone with Hugh, all you could do was apologize for her behavior and he swore it was fine, it wasn't your fault. Ashley was acting weird towards you the entire morning. When you offered her to get up and learn some choreo, she brushed you off saying that she still needed to wake up. You glanced over at Hugh and Ashley every few minutes as they talked. It looked civil. The music was too loud to hear what the conversation was about and it was making you nervous. Hugh kept his eyes mostly on you as he spoke but Ashley’s were set on Hugh, never looking your way. You tried your best to ignore it, focusing on doing your job.

 For one of the songs, you would be giving one of the dancers named Ethan a lap dance. He had become a good friend over the past year you had known him and he made the whole grinding on him thing a lot less awkward than you thought it would be. “Are you and eye candy over there still playing friends?” Ethan asks as he gestures towards where Hugh and Ashley sat. “Yes..but it’s more lenient. Kinda like dating but nothing exclusive.” You explain, eyes on Hugh. He’s looking back at you and you’re sure he can tell that you’re talking about him. “You should do the dance for him, since he’s a special guest today and all.” He offers, smirk present on his face. “You don’t think that would be too mean? I want him to want me but I don’t wanna ruin the man. At least not yet anyways.” A similar smirk to Ethan’s was rising to your lips at the thought of Hugh being flustered over you. “I think you should do it.” You think about it for a moment and shame yourself for how quickly you made your decision. “You’re a bad influence.” You tell Ethan. Hugh’s eyes are still on you and you point your finger at him and wiggle it, motioning him to come here. 

“I’m gonna go sit down, have fun.” Ethan says and goes down the stairs to the stage as Hugh walks up them. “What’s up sweetheart?” He asks. “Ethan isn’t feeling well right now, would you mind standing in for him? You don’t have to do anything, just sit in that chair.” You point to the metal fold up chair that sits in the center of the catwalk. “Yea I can do that.” His smile is authentic, happy to help. “Thank you baby.” You say and you reach up to leave a quick kiss on his cheek. You pick up the mic that you sat on the stage floor earlier and turn it on. “We’re ready to go for the next one.” You announce through it so the sound crew could hear you. They announce ‘places’ and Hugh sits down in the chair. You walk over to the marker on the floor that indicates your starting position for this song. It’s about five feet behind Hugh’s chair, leaving him clueless on what’s happening. 

The song starts and you strut to the beat until you reach the chair. Your hands are on either side of Hugh’s chest and you move your hands around the same way that you had practiced many times before. His chest was hard and you could feel the muscles of his pecs. You slide your hands up to his shoulders and walk slowly around the chair until you're right in front of Hugh. The song slows at this point, giving the perfect moment for you to slowly drop yourself into his lap, arms around his neck. There’s three quick beats and you bounce up and down. Hugh’s eyes are wide in surprise. He’s a lot taller than Ethan and his thighs hold more muscle. It took a moment to get used to as the routine went on. The entire dance was pretty stereotypical: a lot of grinding, ass popping, and touching. You spent a good majority of the song whispering the words quietly to Hugh. He kept his hands to himself, not wanting to interrupt whatever move you had to do next. When the song ends, you’re out of Hugh’s lap and standing a foot in front of him for your ending pose. The crew gives you the okay to move and you turn back to Hugh, mischief present in your face. “Thank you Hugh!” You squeal, giving him a quick hug once he stands up. “Yea. yea…You’re such a tease.” He says the second part low enough so only you hear. As he walks back to his seat, you could have sworn you saw him trying to discreetly reposition whatever was happening in his pants. 

During your lunch break, Ashley’s strange act continued as she made up some excuse for her to leave- you could tell she was lying. Hugh and yourself ended up ordering subs from some local deli and ate in your dressing room. “So what do you think about everything so far?” You ask, referring to the choreo you’d been learning for the past three hours. “It’s…fun.” You huff at that. “You’re so terrible at describing things Hugh. Oh my god.” You complain. “I’m sorry…It's good.” You give him a blank stare, not satisfied with his answers. “Okay okay, don’t give me that look. You’re phenomenal…watching you dance and feeling you dance on me is making it really hard to just be your friend.” He shrugs, taking another bite of his sandwich. His answer makes you blush, familiar butterflies fly around your tummy. “Oh.” It’s all you could say. “You don’t have to accept my invites if it’s too hard on you.” “Hm. That’s not it, babe. I definitely want to be here. Wouldn’t have wanted to miss that little stunt you pulled earlier.” He winks as he refers to the lapdance. 

Comments like that had been frequent throughout the past month. Hugh Jackman was a natural flirt. That was a fact you had the pleasure of learning from personal experience and the displeasure of learning from the internet. You had seen countless videos of him being a flirty slut- as a married man. It worried you and had been something you’d been thinking about nonstop since the discovery. Him flirting with you was one thing, but you didn’t like the idea of him flirting with others when he was ‘yours’. You’d also seen videos of him mentioning multiple times that he liked older women, which had become another concern that ate at your brain. Last week, Hugh had come over for a movie night and you planned on casually mentioning the apprehension you had around the issue. 

“Sooo, I heard you liked older women?” 

Casual had never been your thing. 

“Uh..yea. It’s a preference of mine.” You could tell that the question made him uncomfortable. The tiny little toxic part of your heart was happy about that. You let out a short hum. “What was that for?”

 “What was what for?” 

 “Your little ‘hm.’.” You shrug as you speak your next words. “It’s just interesting.” 

 “What’s interesting.”  “You having a preference for older women.”  

“How is that any different from you liking older men?” He asks genuinely and you could honestly smack him right now for not seeing the issue and you would if he wasn’t across the couch. “Hm. I don’t know. Maybe the fact that I’m currently interested in an older man and you’re straying quite far from your preferences Mr.Jackman.” He lets out a deep belly laugh. “Why are you laughing at me?” You cross your arms, a small pout sits on your lips. “You're jealous.” He smirks. “I’m not jealous. I’m skeptical.”  “There's no reason to be.” His eyes are gentle.  “If you say so.” You didn’t want to damper the mood but your mind was filled with ‘what ifs’ and you needed reassurance.

 “Hey. Come here sweet girl.” He motions for you to sit closer to him. You crawl over and his arm drapes over your shoulder. Your head rests on his chest and his cheek is resting on the crown of your hair. “I promise you have nothing to worry about. I like you and only you.” “Pinky promise?” You look up at him, holding out your pinky. He lets out a chuckle and links his pinky with your own. “Pinky promise.” He was looking down at you. You were staring in his eyes, watching the reflection from the flame of the pumpkin pie scented candle that sat on the coffee table flicker. He slowly leaned down, allowing his lips to softly touch yours. It was a lazy kiss, lips moving every few seconds. You could feel every part of Hugh’s lip slide against yours. The slowness of it all was arousing- the heat from his body wasn’t helping. The upward stretch of your neck became sore after a few minutes,  giving you the perfect excuse to climb into his lap. The makeout session lasted about thirty minutes, never speeding up, both of you enjoying the intimacy of the demure, slow kisses. You ground your hips into his in an undemanding manor, not wanting to rush the moment, just needing to feel him against you. A few whispered moans were thrown about, a few neck kisses here and there. The rules were beyond broken that night. You liked to imagine what would have happened if there wasn’t a knock on the door from the food you ordered earlier. 

Your cheeks heat up at the memory as you pick an onion off of your sandwich. Hugh was right, you were a tease. That night, he had initiated the kiss but you turned it into so much more. You could've stopped it, blaming it on the pain in your neck, but you wanted more. With Hugh, you always wanted more. It was your stupid idea to be his friend first and it was torturing you. “What’re you thinking about, pretty girl?” Hugh asks, dragging you out of your thoughts. “Nothing...These onions are too strong.” You flick the onion you picked off onto the paper that was once wrapped around your sub. “You sure that’s it? You can talk to me babe.” He’s sincere. He’s always so patient and caring towards you. It makes your heart swell. “I was thinking about our movie night.” You admit. “Anything in particular from that night?” He asks, knowing exactly what you’re thinking about, the wide smirk on his stupid perfect face makes that obvious. “I wasn’t thinking about that, you perv. I was thinking about how I forgot to tell you that I’m going to New York next week.” He didn’t need to know that you were for sure thinking about every detail of his dick that you could remember and you really did forget to tell him that, so you weren’t technically lying. “Hm. I wonder what made you forget?” Smirk still plastered on his face. “I’m gonna ignore that comment.” And you did ignore it, immediately talking about your upcoming trip. “It's kinda gonna be my first time there. I performed a show there but I was gone the next day. I have an entire four days to explore this time. Well except for when I work but whatever.” You shrug at the end, voice filled with excitement ready to see the city in its full glory. “What do you have scheduled when you’re out there?” 

“I have a photoshoot, meetings, then the Tonight Show.” 

“First time on Fallon?” you laugh. “First time on any big talk show, I'm so fucking nervous.” 

“Don’t be. Jimmy’s a great guy and you’re good at talking. It’s easy to pay attention to you.” 

“Do you pay attention to me because I'm a good talker or do you pay attention to me because you think I'm pretty.” You were completely fishing for a compliment and you carried no shame for it. “Both.” 

Hugh had become a really good friend and not just because the two of you shared an occasional kiss. He was there for you when you had no one else. The next day, Ashley came over and you tried to ask her why she lied about needing to leave rehearsal early. She either gave a vague answer for each question or completely dodged it. You never asked Hugh about what they talked about, wanting the answer from your best friend, but it was looking like you would have to turn to him to get closer to the truth. You invited her to New York the second you found out you were going. Trying to get her out of her funky mood, you brought it up, asking if she was excited that it was coming up so soon. She quickly agreed to the excitement but each word came out flat and uninterested. About an hour after she left your house, you got a text. 

bestie boo: hey. i’m actually not gonna be able to make it to new york. sorry, ttyl. 

The text caught you off guard but it wasn’t a total surprise due to Ashley’s behavior while she was at your house. That didn’t mean it hurt any less though. The consistent dodginess from her made your throat tighten up. Your first instinct was to text Hugh, so that’s what you did.

You: hey, are you busy rn? 

Hugh <3: Hi baby. No, I'm not busy. What’s up?

You: can you come over? :(

Hugh <3: On my way! 

When you opened the door for him, worry was written on his face. “What’s wrong?” He takes off his shoes, the same way he has the past few times he’s come over. “I feel like you’re always asking me that.” You slump over slightly. “I gotta make sure my girl is okay.” All of the sadness you had over Ashley almost vanished entirely. “I’m your girl?” You ask looking up at him. “Of course you’re my girl y/n. Just waiting for the day you wanna label it.” He smiles down at you and offers his hand. “Now c’mon, tell me what’s got you all blue.” You grab his hand and he follows the familiar route to your living room couch. He sits down and pulls you down towards him. You’re sitting next to him, your side against his. He pulls your legs up so they lay across his lap and he rubs slow circles into your thigh.

 “What’s got that pretty face of yours frowning?” He pinches your thigh lightly as he asks the question. “It’s Ashley, she’s being really weird Hugh. She always tells me things and now she’s just…not.” He has his own frown now. “I’m sorry baby….Is this about me again?” 

“Kinda but not totally. I just wanted to know why she doesn’t like you. You’ve become so important to me and I plan on having you around for a while. She’s been my best friend since we were kids, I want her to like you and be able to be around you.” You put your hands over your eyes, your palms applying  pressure on them to prevent the tears from falling. All the pent up frustration was starting to reach its limit. “Hey, look at me.” He grabs your chin, a gesture he’s done more times than you can count. “Don’t let me come in between your friendships.” You sigh. “It’s not your fault Hugh.” 

“I…I think it might be my fault a little bit.” He admits with a guilty expression, making your heart sting. “What do you mean?” 

“She uh… Ashley might have flirted with me yesterday. I shut it down but…” He sighs nervously. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. I didn’t know how to tell you to be honest..” The room around you both felt stuffie and too small. The tears that were held back by the palms of your hands just a few minutes ago, spill out. You were feeling too many emotions: hurt, anger, betrayal. 

This wasn’t the first time Ashley had done something like this. She’d done it with Pedro when the two of you were already together. The only difference is that she felt so guilty that she confessed. This time, Ashley was too much of a coward to tell you what she had done to your face. You didn’t want to lose your best friend but you couldn’t keep her around when all she seemed to do was hurt you. Hugh holds you as you cry, not saying a word. He leaves little kisses on your head and tells you that ‘it’s okay’ over and over. He let you cry without knowing what it was you were crying about. You felt so stupid to have let this slip past you. It had been almost the exact same situation before. Ashley acted weird towards Pedro, she starts being vague, and then you find out what she did. Déjà fucking vu. You couldn’t help but laugh. “What’s funny sweetheart?” Your mind had been racing so fast, you almost forgot that Hugh’s was still here holding you. He had gone still, the only reminder of his presence was the weight of his arms around you. “I just can’t believe she did it again without me noticing. I feel dumb.” His body jerks in surprise. “Again?” 

—

It was Saint Patrick's day and you were at Ashley’s place getting ready for a party. It was a weird holiday to throw a party for but people used any excuse to get drunk. Leading up to this day, Ashley has been yapping non stop about going to her first celebrity party but tonight, she couldn’t have been more quiet. You excused her behavior for nerves, not questioning it more. Her demeanor has been different for a few days. Ashley wasn’t one to open up quickly or talk about her problems. You only pried as much as you could before being shut out and right now you had been completely blocked off. You tried your best to ignore it, trying to focus on the night ahead of you. 

Billie is who had invited you to the party as the two of you grew close. Being the same age, doing the same job, and experiencing the same things made it impossible for the two of you not to be friends. The party was going to be filled with people you’d never met before, so you asked her if you could bring a person or two- Ashley and Pedro. It was when you told Ashley that Pedro would also be coming, that her prior eagerness for the party dissipated. 

Just as you sat down to start your makeup, Ashley finally spoke. “Y/n…I think I’m gonna skip out on the party tonight.” You lift your head to look at her through the mirror.“What, why? We’ve been talking about this for weeks.” 

 “I just don’t feel like going anymore.” She’s scrolling through her phone. “You’re such a shitty liar, Ash. What’s up? Why don’t you wanna go anymore?” You turn the spinny chair your in to face her. She put her phone down and the look on her face was one you wouldn’t ever forget. It was a look full of guilt, shame. You were trying to comfort your best friend while she was about to tell you the most heat shattering words. “I don’t think it’s smart to be around Pedro.” Your brows knit together in confusion. “Why not. I thought you guys were good now, that you liked him?” She’s fidgeting with her hands. “Y/n we kissed.” 

“Who kissed?” You ask, hoping you were misinterpreting what she was saying. “Me and Pedro.” You hadn’t misunderstood her words. 

Your heart shattered. Pedro has only been your boyfriend for a little over a month but it still hurts. You were still in the honeymoon phase, where everything felt like love even though it was just over infatuation with the new relationship. Without thinking about it, you started collecting your things to leave, gathering the makeup you just placed onto the table back into its bag. “What are you doing?” Ashley asks nervously. “I’m leaving.” She didn’t try to stop you. 

When you got home, you felt numb. There was a strong ache in your chest where your heart sits but there wasn’t an ounce of emotions flowing through you. The betrayal of the person you trusted most in this life was worse than any other pain you could think of. You spend hours laying on your bed, staring at the ceiling, when a knock finally pulls you out of whatever trance you were in. “Hey baby. Ashley texted me saying I should come check on you.” He steps into the house and follows you down the entry hall. “Oh I didn’t know you guys were on texting terms now…” You trail off for a second, not leaving Pedro enough time to say anything before you speak again. “Huh…You know, I guess it would make sense, seeing as you guys are apparently on kissing terms.” You stop and stare at him, looking dead in his eyes. He winces. “She told you about that.” The statement pisses you off. “What the fuck do you mean ‘she told you about that.’? Were you planning on keeping it a secret?” Your voice gradually rises alongside the anger in your body. “No, but I-” 

“but fucking what Pedro? You kiss my best fucking friend and then hide it from me??” Your finger hurts from the pressure of pointing it into his chest. “I didn’t kiss her.” You ignore him. “When did it happen?” “Baby, listen to me. I didn’t kiss Ashley.” He ignores you. “WHEN DID IT HAPPEN?” You scream at him, all of the emotions spilling over. You sink down to the floor, abandoning your prior standing position, and you cry. 

“I didn’t kiss her babygirl. I would never hurt you like that.” He sits down next to you, his back against the wall. You don’t speak. “It was last Tuesday, when she came over to talk to me like you asked her to. She said it was because you wanted her to like me, for us to be friends. She started acting differently and before I knew it she was kissing me. That’s all that happened baby.” He explains as he runs his fingers along the baby hairs on your forehead. “You didn’t kiss her?” You look into his big brown puppy eyes, searching for the truth. “I didn’t kiss her.” He affirms. “I promise, babygirl.” 

“Pinky promise?” He interlocks his pinky with yours. 

You didn’t speak to Ashley for two weeks after that incident. You wanted so badly to know why she did it, but in the end you didn’t think it mattered, each outcome still ended with her being a selfish person- a bad friend. You didn’t really talk things out either but you decided to forgive her. The friendship was too important to you at the time to give up but you wouldn’t let her be anywhere near Pedro again. The idea of them being friends was out the window. 

—

 “What a bitch.” His thick accent shining through extra hard with his own anger.- it makes you laugh. “I don’t even know what to do at this point. I don’t think I can trust her anymore.” he nods in agreement. “I know sweetheart but I'm here for you, no matter what you decide to do. Okay?” it's your turn to nod. “Okay. Thank you Hugh, really. I don’t know what I would do without you.” You look up at him, giving him a small smile and a quick kiss on his side. “You know what sucks more than possibly losing my best friend for good?” You ask, humor shines in your eyes. “What’s that?”

“Losing my New York tour guide.” He laughs. “You’re laughing now, but it’s serious. She created these crazy itineraries for us to be the most obnoxious tourist. Now I have to rely on my own planning skills, which aren’t great.” Hugh goes quiet for a moment. You search his face for his thoughts and he seems unsure of what he’s about to say. 

“I could..uh. I could go to New York with you. I kinda need to go anyways, been meaning to go.” He says and when you don’t speak right away, he panics. “You don’t have to say yes. I know we’ve been spending a lot of time together and I understand if you want some time for yourself..” You giggle at his overthinking. “Hugh, I would love for you to come to New York with me.” He lets out a breath you didn’t know he was holding. “Okay good. That’s great! I needed to go back a few weeks ago actually so this works out for the both of us.” 

“Why didn’t you go back when you needed to?” His cheeks go red. “Oh my god! You totally stayed because of me didn’t you?”

 “Maybe..” He admits. “I was scheduled to fly back to New York before your album party, but then you texted me. I couldn’t pass that up.” 

“You keep acting like this and you’re gonna make me fall in love with you Hugh Jackman.” A smug smile falls onto his lips. “You better.” 

The few days leading up to you leaving for New York were short. Hugh left for the city the next day, promising he would see you the moment you landed, sealing the promise with a quick kiss. You busied yourself with tour rehearsals and interview prep. It had been a lonely few days. Hugh was gone and you weren’t talking to Ashley, you didn’t know what to do with yourself. You and Hugh texted daily but it wasn’t the same as being in his presence, a presence you had come to enjoy having around. You were close to saying ‘fuck it’ and be fully committed to him but a part of you was still hesitant. Too much has happened recently, it feels like you can’t think straight half the time. Your last relationship was only a few months ago, your best friend was trying to steal every man you liked, and you’re at the peak of your career. You needed a mental breather. 

LAX airport was cold and stuffy. People were walking casually towards their destination with a few runners here and there. While you loved traveling, airports made you feel uneasy. There were so many people going to the most random places on the most random days and random times. It was uncomfortable to think about. You sat there in silence, too afraid to wear headphones. You liked to know what was happening around you at all times, a freak peeve. When it was finally time to board the plane, you were already exhausted from it all. Almost seven hours later, you landed at JFK airport in New York City. Once you turn off airplane mode on your phone, you see a few texts from Hugh. He insisted that he could pick you up from the airport and take you to your hotel. Your ‘personal chauffeur” he jokingly called himself. You texted Hugh back as people hurriedly grabbed their belongings and scurried down the thin aisles. 

You: just landed! see you soon hot stuff ;)

He told you beforehand that he made arrangements to pick you up in a private area, away from prying eyes. You weren’t nearly famous enough to know what that means, so you simply followed the instructions he gave you. It was a little confusing at first, having only been in the busy airport once before. With some help from workers, Hugh was finally in your view. He had a big smile on his face with his arms open wide for you. You walked with a little pep in your step, suitcase rolling behind you. When you got close enough, you let the handle go and ran the rest of the short distance to Hughs arms. His embrace was warm and welcoming, a familiar place. 

“Missed you sweet girl.” He mumbles into your hair. You pull back slightly, arms still holding him. “Missed you too.” Your voice is shy, almost forgetting how it felt to have his attention on you. You had missed him, more than you thought you would. Hearing his voice again made life feel real again after the past mundane days you’ve endured. The walk to his car was intimate- his arm sat atop your shoulders as you walked side by side. He insisted on rolling your luggage for you and wouldn’t take no for an answer when you protested. A true gentleman. He opened the passenger door for you, making sure you were in before putting your suitcase in the trunk and hopping into the driver's side. He looked a lot more presentable than you did. He wore a pair of blue jeans and a black shirt that hugged his biceps in a way that almost made you drool. It was simple but he looked delicious. Your sweats and hoodie couldn’t compare. His beard had finally grown in, no longer the prickly stubble that rested there a month ago. It was full and you hoped he would let it grow to that length that made him look even more expensive. 

“The option to stay at my place is still on the table if you want it babe.” He says, resting his hand on your thigh as he begins to pull out of the hidden parking lot. There was something so attractive about a man driving. Hugh’s side profile was godly and him driving really did something to your brain. “That wouldn’t be very friendly of us Hugh.” You rest your hand on top of his. “I think that’s the friendliest thing I could possibly do. Offer you a place to stay while in town instead of staying in a dingy hotel.” He eggs on trying to convince you. He first pitched the idea the night he offered to come to New York with you. You immediately declined, not wanting to invade his space. You wouldn’t know how to handle it, it made things too real. He had been over to your house countless times, but you had never been to his. You thought it best to keep it that way. You weren’t sure you could control yourself around him when you were surrounded by all things him. “Nothing is ever friendly between us Hugh.” He squeezes your thigh. “I have to argue with you there baby. In my humble opinion, we are too friendly.” He glances over to you and gives you a wink. He hasn’t been afraid of letting his intentions known. To let you know that he wants you, not as a friend. You’ve seen just how bad he craved you and it was tempting. He knew he had a dangerous effect on you, one that you worked really hard to control. 

“You’re always so horny.” You mumble. “It’s hard not to be when I have a gorgeous girl like you around all the time.” God he was so good with his words. His voice and his way of speaking. It was no mystery as to why he had people swooning for him left and right- you included. “Whatever.” You open your phone to text Stacy, letting her know you landed and in good hands. It was weird flying solo. You got so accustomed to flying along Ashley or Stacy. You weren’t particularly mad at the change if it meant you got to see Hugh’s face light up just at seeing you again. “Will you at least come over once?” He asks, hopeful. “I’ve seen your house, I’d really like you to see mine. It’s where I live most of the time. It would mean a lot.” The squeeze on your thigh lingers, his grip lasting longer than the previous one. You didn’t know how to explain that you really didn’t want to do that- be in his house. You didn’t think he would understand what you mean when you say ‘it’s too much’. The desperation in his voice, the yearning he felt to have you in his home. You couldn’t say no. “Yea I can do that.” The small smile that rested on his lips grew, his face lighting up. It made your stomach twist up in knots. 

The hotel that Stacy booked for you was grand. The elegance and class in the places you’ve stayed at while traveling has never failed to amaze you. Growing up, your family didn’t have a lot of money. When you went on family trips, the cheapest hotel, usually a motel 6, was your usual nightly accommodations. The places you stayed in now would have little you screaming and running around. The whole ‘entering fame’ process had been a huge culture shock that you were still learning to navigate appropriately. 

“Hm. Not too shabby, my house is better though.” Hugh says as he sits your luggage to the side. He had put a hat and sunglasses on, trying to make it less obvious that it was him- trying to hide that it was him who was with you. The hat, sunglasses, and beard combo was doing a number on your body. It took a lot of strength to keep yourself from dragging him to the bed and riding him until you were satisfied. Though, you’re not sure that you could ever be fully satisfied with Hugh. Not because you were scared he wouldn’t be good in bed but because you knew once he had you, you would need him again and again until you physically couldn’t handle him anymore. You  felt him that one night on the couch, movie night, you knew that man was packing and that it wouldn’t take much for him to bruise your cervix.

 “Hugh, please.” You warn him. He puts his hands up in defense. “Sorry, sorry…Just don’t forget that it’s an option.” “I don’t think you’d let me forget..” You let out a breathy laugh after. Hugh sits down at a small table and watches you as you walk around, exploring the room. You unpack a few things to make it easier on yourself later. “Are you up for exploring today?” He asks as he walks into the bathroom, where you’re placing your toiletries along the vanity counter. “Oo! I’d love to explore. I have one weird request though.” You're still facing the mirror when Hugh comes up behind you. His arms wrap around your waist, sitting a little higher due to his height. “What’s that baby?” He’s watching you through the mirror, as you organize your skin care. “I wanna go to Trinity Church to see Hamilton's grave.” You say nonchalantly. Hugh laughs and questions you. “I need to sing the ‘he’s buried in Trinity Church near you’ line from Hamilton.” Hugh continues laughing. “What!?” He barely gets the words out. It somewhat offends you.  “I thought you’d understand, being a theater nerd and all but I guess not.” You cross your arms and try to break through his hold to walk away. “Mhm. I’m sorry, come back. I wasn’t trying to make fun of you. You’re just full of surprises.” You relax in his hold. 

“Does that mean you’ll take me?” You look at his eyes through the mirror. “Yea i’ll take you.” He smiles. You look at Hugh in the mirror, observing how the two of you look together. He looks really good holding you and not to toot your own horn, but Hugh and yourself made an attractive couple. He looked good on your arm and you looked good on his. “You're so pretty, baby.” He whispers. “Every time I look at you, I’m blown away that you’re hanging around with me.” His arms tighten around you. “Hmm. I think we look good together, don’t you?” You reach your neck up to look at him as best as you can given the angle. He studies your two bodies in the mirror before agreeing. “Yea we do.”

Walking around with Hugh felt freeing. You’ve been trying so hard to keep things private lately that every time you weren’t in the secure confines of your house with him, you felt panicked. It was something that crossed your mind before the two of you left the hotel but he assured you that it wasn’t very likely that someone would notice both of you. You were a little doubtful in his words, opting to dress in a way that protected you from the early fall breeze and from making it too obvious of who you were. Hugh had been right though, you both were able to walk around pretty freely, undisturbed. He brought you to trinity church first and reluctantly filmed a video of you dramatically singing the line from Hamilton. To you it was peak comedy and Hugh was being a big hater. He took you to a few of his favorite places, hidden gems. It was perfect. You wanted to hold his hand, bodies brushing against each other as you walked, but you couldn’t. The night ended by Hugh taking you to get traditional New York pizza. He ordered a large pepperoni and you both walked back to the hotel. The moment your room door was opened, you were pulling your heeled boots off. The walking destroyed your feet but you’d gone beyond your daily step goals- a win is a win. Sitting at the table with Hugh, you both grabbed a slice of pizza. He waited for you to take a bite first, looking for your reaction. When you took a bite, you let out a moan- you weren’t sure if it was because it tasted that good or because of how hungry you were. “That good?” Hugh asks in amusement. “Yes, I was starving.” He chuckles and takes his own big bite. The two of you down the entire pizza at an embarrassingly fast rate. “Did you have fun today?” He asks you. “Yea, I really did. Thank you Hugh.” 

When Hugh left, you scrolled through all of the pictures and videos you had taken today. You snuck a couple of Hugh and you might have stared at them a little too long. You watched the Trinity Church video so you could post it on TikTok. As you uploaded it into the app and were giving it one last watch before hitting post, a sound caught your attention. You grabbed your headphones and connected them to get a better listen. As you were singing, you could hear Hugh quietly laughing in the background. The sound brought a smile to your face, replaying it over and over just to hear it again. You hit the ‘post’ and called it a night. 

The next morning was an early one. You had to be at the photo shoot at five am to get ready, meaning you were out the door at four. Stacy met you down in the lobby and led you to the car she had waiting for you. “How was your first day in New York? You and Ashley have fun?” She asks as she buckles her seatbelt. “Oh, Ashley didn’t come, we aren’t friends anymore. My first day was good though, really fun.” You smile at the memories of the day prior, ignoring the small pain from hearing Ashley’s name. Stacy gives you a questioning look. You sigh before explaining, “She was being weird and it turns out she was flirting with Hugh the other day when they came to rehearsals. She didn’t even have the decency not to do it in the exact same room.” Her expression turns to an understanding one. “Well, good riddance. I knew after the first time that the girl was nothing but trouble. Good for you babe.” She types on her phone for a moment before turning her attention back to you- your staring out the window, taking in the somewhat empty streets that were full of people the night before.

“So, what did you do yesterday that was so fun?” You don’t look at her when you respond. “Hugh took me exploring, showed me the city.” She snorts. “Hugh, huh?” You look at her sheepishly. “Yea. He felt bad that I didn’t have someone to go with me so he offered.” You shrug. It wasn’t that big of a deal. “I told you.” 

“Told me what?” 

“That you wouldn’t be able to stay away from that man.” She shakes her head. You sometimes forgot just how well Stacy knows you after years of her by your side. The car comes to a stop outside of a short building, shorter than the other ones around it anyway. You sat in hair and makeup for a while, talking to the artists as they worked. You always liked making conversation with the people that helped you, it was always interesting hearing everyone's stories. The photo shoot wasn’t anything crazy. It was a well known photographer that had worked with major stars, her most recent model being Zendaya. It was a huge compliment that she wanted to work with you. It wasn’t like other shoots you had done before, this had been way more artsy and free. You were so used to doing things for brands or for your own music, where everything needed to be a certain way. It was nice to work on projects where you didn’t have to think but just be you. 

When the shoot was over, you sat in a small lobby with Stacy as you waited for the car to come pick you up. You opened tiktok to see what people were saying in the comments of your latest post. Most of them were freaking out over the laugh in the background, over analyzing it to find out who it was. There were a few comments that speculated that it might be Hugh and it made you laugh, shocked by the crazy detective skills your fans had. You kept scrolling when you saw a comment that caught your attention.

‘Y/N GET YOUR MAN UNDER CONTROL SDJFJSDF’ 

You clicked on the ‘view replies’ tab under it trying to figure out what they were talking about. Thankfully, other people were just as confused as you were with multiple ‘context?’ comments under it. 

‘look at hughs recent instagram post 😭’

In curiosity, you closed Tiktok and opened instagram. You went to the search bar, clicking on his username from your recent searched section. You click on the most recent picture making it enlarge and you let out an audible gasp. “Are you okay?” Stacy asks. You almost forgot where you were for a second. “Yea i’m fine…funny tiktok comment.” You tried to play it off, hoping she’d buy the excuse. It seems to work as she gives a small nod, looking back down to her phone. You look back down at your own device, in complete and utter shock. You knew he was built, seeing other pictures he had posted and endless edits of his greasy hawaiian rolls from Deadpool and Wolverine. 

This however seemed so much slutier. He was in, what you assumed was his home bathroom, taking shirtless pictures of himself. You could tell it had been recent because his beard and hair were the same length that it’s been for the past week. You felt frozen, not knowing what to do. He looked absolutely scrumptious. Pulling out your airpods from your purse, you put them on to listen to the attached audio. You had no fucking clue how you were supposed to look him in the eyes the next time you saw him. His voice was something special. It had the ability to make your knees weak at the sound. This was no different. It felt like he was teasing you subtly. You quickly screenshot the picture and swipe out of instagram, opening your message app. 

You: I leave you alone for less than 24 hours and you’re over here posting thirst traps for the internet… 

Hugh <3: I just wanted to thank my team. As the caption said…I am grateful. 

You: hmm you say it’s being grateful, I say it’s being a SLUT!! 

You: you look really fucking good though…

Hugh<3: 😂😂😂

Hugh<3: Thank you baby. Do I get to see you today or are you still busy? 

You: I have meetings the rest of the day :( 

Hugh<3: It’s okay sweetheart. I’ll see you tomorrow? 

You: I have fallon tmrw night but i’ll be free at 8pm if you wanna meet up then? 

Hugh<3: That works for me. Text me when you’re done for the day, okay? Talk to you later baby

The car finally stops signaling that you were at the first meeting of the day. There were endless introductions, hand shaking, and smiling. It was a lot more tiring than it sounded. Stacy was doing most of the work, covering major details for whatever was being discussed- again you mainly sat and listened. There were a few times when you really had to pay attention as key points were being made but nothing would be final until your team and lawyer looked over whatever deals were being discussed. There was a short two hour break of freedom that Stacy and yourself used to grab some food. Then it was right back to work. You were somewhat grateful for Stacy scheduling all of the heavy work stuff on one day because it meant you didn’t have to do this again on the remaining days of your trip. Stacy liked to set it up that way, giving you more time to be free from work, you loved her for it. The two of you had dinner together and went your separate ways after. You got back to your hotel at ten and to say you were worn out was an understatement. Your head was hurting from all the talking and bright fluorescent lights of each office you sat in today. 

You: I’m finally freeeee!! 

After hitting send, you hopped in the shower. The best thing about staying in an expensive hotel was how great the water pressure was. The hot water felt like heaven against your sticky skin, the thick body glitter from the photoshoot finally slipping away. You let your mind wander back to the picture that had been in your mind all day. Running your hands down your body, teasing yourself while imagining that it was Hugh’s wide hands instead. You let your hands disappear in the place that ached the most, working as your mind played the fantasies that ate away at you. You could almost feel Hugh’s mouth whispering against your ear as the feeling of ecstasy washes over your body, the running water muffling the sounds of your pleasure. 

Hugh still hadn’t texted you back when you had gotten out of the shower. It was unusual for him to take so long to respond but given the time- and his age- he was probably asleep. The downside to dating older men was their need to be in bed so early. You giggled to yourself thinking about the thought of Hugh being knocked the fuck out in bed after yawning since the clock hit 7pm. Laying in bed, you whipped out your phone opening twitter. You tweeted a quick post, reminding your fans to watch Jimmy Fallon tomorrow night. You scrolled lazily for a while, feeling the sleep take over you but when you saw one post in particular, you felt wide awake. 

‘Hugh Jackman and ex-wife seen walking around New York together a year after separation.’ 

You had no right to feel the jealousy and anger that sat tight in your chest. His ex-wife was something you were completely aware of but it was a subject neither Hugh or yourself had talked about. You understood that she would always be around, after being married to her longer than you’d even been alive. You laugh in disbelief. It sounded so stupid when you put it like that. The age gap never bothered you until you put it in perspective. You couldn’t help who you liked though. The overthinking hit faster than you could stop it. You wondered why he didn’t tell you that he was seeing her today. His smile in the picture was a little too wide, he looked too happy. He wasn’t even yours to claim, yet you wanted her to know that he had you now, that he wanted you. The vile thoughts that danced around your head were making your temper rise. You set some alarms and tried to get some sleep. Most of the night was tossing and turning, thinking about Hugh’s ex-wife. 

Hugh<3: Good morning sweet girl. I’m sorry for not getting back to you last night. I fell asleep on the couch waiting for you to text me lol 

It was what you saw first when your alarm went off. It was sent a few hours ago since you gave yourself some time to sleep in, given the trouble you had getting to sleep last night. You ultimately decided that you wouldn’t be mad at him for it, you didn’t have a reason to be. If the two of you were official, things would be different, but you weren’t. You were going to try your best to swallow the jealousy and let it be. 

You: good morning baby! I figured that’s what happened lol

Hugh<3: Are you excited for Fallon tonight? 😄

You: yea…only a tinsy bit nervous 

Hugh<3: You’re gonna crush it babe, I know it. I still get to see you after yea? Miss you

You: I miss you too :(

You: do you wanna meet at the hotel after or…?

Hugh<3: I can pick you up and we can go to my place? 

You stared at the message contemplating it. Hugh’s house was already a fear of yours but his house at night seemed a lot more intimate. You felt the need to be that intimate with him though- it was fueled by the pictures from last night, you knew it was. If that hadn't happened, you’d be saying no, making up excuses not to. You needed the validation too much to think straight. 

You: yea we can do that :)

Once you get to the Tonight Show studio, you barely have time to put your things down before you're being guided around. Thankfully, you warmed up your voice before leaving your hotel room just in case you didn’t have time to do it here. The crew had you and your dancers do a quick run through of the song to make sure everything was working before you were sent to your dressing room to get ready. Kat, your stylist, and Amari, your makeup and hair artist, were already in the room ready to get to work. You took the time to catch up with both of them, the three of you falling into a familiar routine. Your nerves started to build up as it got closer to the filming time. About twenty minutes before you were called to stage, Jimmy came back to introduce himself. He was a really sweet guy, super bubbly and humble. It eased your mind a little bit but they shot right back up when your name was called. “Y/n L/n everybody!”. The studio audience erupted in cheers as you walked to Jimmy’s desk. “Welcome to the show, how are you doing tonight?” He asks. “I’m doing amazing, thank you so much for having me.” The cheers finally slow down. “So, I got told that this is your first late night show interview, is that right?” 

“Yes, it is!” 

“I’m honored to be the first.” 

“I’m glad it’s you who popped my late night talk show cherry, Jimmy.” You joke, using your song's title as a pun, which he does his famous laugh at. The interview was going really well, most of the questions being ones you’ve answered countless times before.

“There have been a few rumors going around after a tiktok you posted the other day and I have to ask.” You nod ready for whatever question he’s about to ask. “Is the laugh behind the camera Mr. Hugh Jackman?” Your smile falters for a second before you put it right back on. This was something you weren’t prepared for at all. You let out a laugh. “The fans can keep speculating. A girl never kisses and tells.” It probably wasn’t the best answer- you know it wasn’t the best answer- but it’s all you could come up with in that moment. You just hoped no one noticed the split second your calm facade slipped, that it felt longer than it had actually lasted. 

Hugh was already there when you were free to leave, having texted him in the spare moment you had while getting changed into your performance outfit. Once you were in the car, he didn’t hesitate to ask how it went. “It was good. He uh…he asked about you.” You don’t why you were concerned about how he would respond, but you were. “About me?” He glances at you quickly before focusing on the road again. “Uhh..yeah. I posted the Hamilton video on tiktok and you can hear you laughing in it. I didn’t think it would be that big of a deal but people started to guess it was you. I’m sorry.” You slump down into the seat, waiting for his anger to come but it never does. “Don’t apologize baby. I want people to know I’m with you.” He never fails at knowing what to say, his words always flow out of his mouth effortlessly. “I kinda redirected the question though, not really giving a solid answer. I don’t know, it really threw me off.” He nods. “They like to do that, be sneaky.” 

It took a little longer than expected to get to his place, New York traffic moving at a snail's pace. When you do finally arrive, he’s pulling into an underground parking garage that sits under a skyscraper that you can’t see the top of. The elevator ride up was easily the longest one you’d ever been on, his penthouse being on the 56th floor. He opens the door and turns on the light switch that is conveniently placed in the entrance. “Welcome to my home. Mi casa es su casa.” He jokes and you let out a short snort at the stupid joke. “Would you like the official Hugh Jackman house tour?” Excitement was radiating off of him and you thought it was cute that he was this worked up about you being here, in his space. “I’d love one.” He offers his hand and you take it. Your once icy hand being warmed up instantly from his large, warm one. 

As he dragged you to the living room, you started to feel that uneasiness again, like you shouldn’t be here. It kept nagging at you in the back of your head but you refused to pick at it. This was making Hugh happy, you weren’t going to ruin that because of whatever issues you were hiding. After showing you the living room, he pulls you into a large kitchen. A vase full of bright pink flowers, balloons, and a cookie cake that reads ‘congrats’ sits on the counter. You let go of his hand and walk over to the island while he stays put. You run your fingertips over the soft petals of the flowers, peonies- your favorite. “Do you like them? I uh..wasn’t sure what your flower preference was, so I chose peonies because of your song.” 

The gesture makes you emotional. You’d never had a man go out of his way for you like this. He hadn’t known what flowers you liked but he remembered your song title to fill in the blank. A song where you had one line that says: ‘you got me roses when you know I like peonies’. A song from your debut album. “I love them. I love this.” You gesture to the display. You walk back over to where he stands and reach up to grab his face, bringing it down to give him a quick peck on his lips. “This means a lot to me, thank you Hugh.” The previous perturbation vanishing from your head, that cherished easiness you felt with Hugh slips back in. You were meant to be here. 

“Shall we finish the tour?” You ask, spirits high. “Of course my lady, right this way.” He leads you room to room, giving you a mini explanation for each one. It was an average home, well average for a millionaire. It was obvious that a single, older man lived here but not in a bad way, there just wasn’t a woman's touch on the place. “This is bathroom number two, the one I use most frequently.” Something about the room seemed familiar as you looked around. There were a few art pieces on the marbled wall, a large mirror across from them. You were looking at the suspiciously large mirror when it clicked. 

“OH MY GOD!! This is the thirst trap bathroom! I can’t believe I have the pleasure of being in such a sacred place.” You move around the space in a theatrical way, pretending you were in a place of true importance. 

“Oh god…shut up.” He groans in embarrassment. “Could you reenact the moment? It would really help me get the full feel of the room.” You’re still teasing him but that question came back to slap you right across the face. You see a smirk on Hugh's face and he’s reaching his hands down and starts lifting his shirt off- but not in the practical way but in the super sexy crossed arms way. “WAIT! I was just kidding.” You practically scream at him, not mentally prepared to see Hugh shirtless in person. He stops and shrugs, turning around to leave the room. Before you can stop yourself, the horny part of your brain is speaking. “Wait no, keep going.” He slowly turns around with that stupid sexy smile of his and the raised eyebrow thing he does. The atmosphere of the small room changed instantly. He’s pulling at his shirt again, painfully slow in your opinion. As he inches it up, you analyze each slither of skin that’s freed. There is a patch of hair below his belly button leading down into his pants. A strong v-line and a thick vein practically popping out of his skin, begging to be traced with your tongue. The shirt goes higher and higher, revealing more of his chest. Each ab pops out and it’s like a gift from God right in front of your eyes. He pulls the shirt over his head, biceps flexing slightly, and drops the shirt onto the floor. You're frozen in place, not believing that this is real. 

You never have been one to believe in karma but you must have been a saint in your past life to deserve this. You see his mouth move but don’t hear a word he says. All you see is the hairy chest you’d been thirsting over, moving closer until it’s right in front of you. He grabs your cheeks between one hand and faces your eyes up towards his own. “Are you okay y/n?” He has a worry behind his eyes. 

“You’re like really hot. It’s actually frustrating how hot you are.” His grip on your face loosens as you speak. “You asked to see, I was only fulfilling your wishes.” You felt dizzy. He hadn’t even touched you and the way your whole face sits in his one hand and the way his abs are begging to be licked, had you flustered. You were drunk on Hugh. “You're wandering again…maybe I should put my shirt back on.” He goes to reach for it but you reach out, lightly grabbing his arm to stop him. “Not yet.” It’s mumbled and quiet, aimed more towards yourself than it was to him. 

Hugh stands back up, his height towering over you. You couldn’t decide if he had always been so tall. Towering over you in a way that made your heart beat faster. Your mind was battling itself: the arousal wanting nothing more than for Hugh to do whatever he wanted with you while the more reasonable side knew that there were too many things that needed to be talked about before crossing this line. The line had been crossed many times before with the kisses, touches, hand holding- the night on the couch… Sex was different. You weren’t fond of casual sex, it was too intimate an act to categorize as such. Whatever was happening between Hugh and yourself was far from casual though and you trusted him not to hurt you.

“You’re kinda scaring me here, pretty girl. Are you okay?” You couldn’t tell him that seeing his chest had sent you into a horny dazed confusion. You looked up at him, into his worried eyes. He was always so concerned about your well being and he cared so much about everything going on in your life. God, you prayed that this wouldn’t come back to bite you in the ass.

“Kiss me please.” Your voice is shaky, unstable. “Are you sure baby?” His hands rest on your shoulders, eyes searching yours for any doubt. 

“Please Hugh. I need you to kiss me.” His once troubled eyes turned dark as he bent down, kissing you like he never had before. The kiss was messy, full of hunger. His hands trailed down your sides until they cupped under the base of your ass. He effortlessly picks you up to sit you on the bathroom counter, lips never breaking contact. You could feel his tongue prodding at the entrance of your mouth as it asked for permission to enter. Granting access, your lips open, a throaty moan draws out as you feel his tongue swipe against yours. He pulls back for a moment. “Can I take this off? Is that okay?” He asks, referring to your shirt. His usual thick australian accent was soft in his breathy voice. You nod shyly and he doesn’t hesitate to reach down. You put your arms up to aid him as he gently pulls the shirt up and he sucks in a sharp breath. “Fuck baby…so fucking pretty.” His hands cup your bra covered breast, thumbs softly trailing over your stiff nipples causing you to drop your head back with a moan of pleasure. “We never finished the tour, sweet girl.” His hands are still fondling you and you lift your head back up to look at him. “What?” 

“There’s one more room I didn't get to show you.” His hands finally drop from your chest and he’s grabbing your hand, leading you towards whatever room it was that you hadn’t seen. He opens the door and the air surrounding you smells like Hugh. It was almost enough to make you pass out, head already light and fuzzy. 

You don’t have time to look around, Hugh immediately turning you to face him, attacking your mouth once again. His hands are reaching for the button of your jeans, pulling them down slowly once he’s got them open. Hugh’s lips escape yours and trail down your neck, your chest, the sides and your body, and finally your stomach as he slowly lowers himself to sit on his knees. He lifted each of your feet, helping you out of each pant leg. At each lift of your leg, he also pulls each sock off, kissing your calves as he does so. You're left in nothing but a black bra and thong. “Mhm. Can I touch you baby?” He asks looking up at you. You nod, the position he was in, all too arousing. He practically growls at your answer and starts leaving messy kisses on your thighs, his hands gripping the back of them. His lips trail up higher, ghosting over where you needed him the most. You could feel his breath through the thin cotton of your panties. Your own breath hitches as he licks a long teasing path between your two folds, the cotton dipping into them from the weight of his tongue. He looks up at you through his lashes, asking for permission. You mouth a small ‘please’ the only word that seems to be in your vocabulary at the moment. 

His thick fingers slip between the fabric and the skin on your hip on either side of your body, pulling the soaked thong down your legs. Before he continues, he’s standing up and guiding you to the bed. “Get up there and spread that pretty pussy for me baby. Wanna see it.” You waste no time doing what he asks, climbing up the unusually tall bed and laying on your back. You don’t open your legs right away, shyness creeping in. You were almost fully exposed to Hugh, the only thing still covered being your boobs, while he was almost fully covered, only his shirt being off. “Don’t go all shy on me now baby.” He says, guiding your legs open, pussy on full display. “Fuck..look at you sweet girl, all wet for me.” His thumbs pull back each fold, exposing the pink that was partially hidden. He leans town and licks from your entrance to your clit. “Mhmm fuck.” You moan out at the feeling. His tongue felt hot against your warm center, beard tickling your skin as he moved. The sound encourages him to continue. He dives down again, tongue lapping around your needy clit. The constant pressure causes your body to jerk voluntarily. Hugh brings both of his hands to hold you down at your legs, tongue still abusing the small bud. Loud moans escape your mouth as his tongue trails down to your entrance sliding in. “Oh fuck me.” You moan out. “Your pussy taste so fucking good.” He mutters against your skin. His right hand moves from its position on your hip, his middle finger sliding down to your opening. He slowly slides it in, the small stretch feels too good. He starts moving it, hitting the spongy bundle of nerves over and over again. “Fuck baby, i’m gonna cum.” You warn him. His head dips back down, tongue returning to your clit and one suck is all it takes for you to come around his finger. You let out a string of moans and curses, Hugh never letting up until your climax is over. He does one more lap around your pussy with his tongue, cleaning everything up before moving up the bed next to you. 

“Been wanting to do that forever baby. Knew you’d have a perfect little pussy.” His words make you cover your face with your hands in embarrassment. Even with your own orgasm washing the need out of your body, you were still turned on. The sight of your slick in Hugh’s beard and the very noticeable tent in Hugh’s jeans made it worse. You sit up and go to move. “Where are you going?” Hugh asks, sitting up on his forearms to look at you. You don't respond, instead you reach for the button of his jeans. “You don’t have to do that baby.” He assures you. “I want to.” It was the first coherent sentence you’ve been able to muster and it makes Hugh fall back into the bed. You pull his jeans and boxers off in one go, too impatient to wait. His cock springs free, red and angry. It was long, thin, and veiny- exactly as you imagined it being. It made your mouth water. He had a thick patch of pubic hair and it turned you on even more, you were such a whore for hairy men. 

You sat yourself between each of his thighs, running your hands up and down them. He’s watching you as you take your right hand, wrapping it around the base of him. He sucks in a breath. You're looking him in the eyes as you lean your head down, letting your tongue swirl in slow circles around his tip. “Fuck…” You take the tip slowly into your mouth, sucking on it while your tongue still circles. Your left hand replaces the right on his dick, right hand moving down to cup his balls. “Shit..” He hisses out. “Haven’t done this in a while baby, not gonna last long at all.” He confesses but men coming fast had always been something that excited you, so you got to work. Your head dipped lower, taking more of him in your mouth while hollowing your cheeks, creating a dangerous suction on him. Your pace was steady as he moaned. “Yea baby, just like that…mmm fuck.” He was a talker and you loved it. You took him out of your mouth, moving down to his balls instead. You sucked on them as your hands worked his shaft. He was breathing rapidly. “I’m gonna cum baby….ohh fuck baby don’t stop.” You immediately moved your mouth back to his tip, sucking every drop of cum from him, not letting any go to waste. You can feel his thighs clenching next to yours. When you're confident that he was done spewing, you swallow it down happily and smile up at him. 

“You’re a dream, you know that? So fucking perfect for me.” He sighs in content as you crawl up to lay on his chest. “You really believe that?” You ask. “I really believe it, y/n. Haven’t felt this way in a long time..” You didn’t want to ask him what that meant, he would tell you eventually. “You wanna stay here tonight?” You look around, seeing the time on the digital alarm clock he had on a bedside table. It read 11:30pm. “Yea, if that’s okay.” You didn’t want to inconvenience him, even if he’s the one who asked. “More than okay sweet girl.” 

The two of you took a quick shower together, the main goal was to get clean so you could hit the hay. Hugh strayed from that a little bit at the sight of your boobs, which he hadn’t seen fully during the fun you had earlier. He gave them small kisses, worshiping them as you washed your hair. He gave you a shirt to sleep in and you opted to go commando, not wanting to put your dirty underwear back on- Hugh didn’t complain about this. His own pajamas being his boxers and nothing else. The two of you laid in Hugh’s bed, you cuddled on his side running your fingers through the hair on his chest. A silence fell over the room, sleep creeping its way in.

thank you for reading!

part six

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[tojikai]

Sundered 4: GEARS

Pairing: Gojo x reader

Part 1  |  Part 2  | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Alt. Ending

Genre: Angst

tags/cw: angst, mean!gojo(kinda), babydaddy!gojo, babymomma!reader, motherhood, insecurities, suggestive smut, arguments, name-calling, L-bombs(lol)

word count: 6.7k

Decisions take seconds to make but can take months and even years to realize and regret. 

“I still love you, Y/N. So, so much.” 

Satoru wept, sniffing as he ran his fingers through his sweat-soaked hair. His vision was cloudy but the memories in his head were crystal clear. The day he met you, the day you told him the news; it was unexpected, but it gave Satoru a warm feeling in his chest. How could he let himself forget that feeling so easily? 

You don’t get to get her back. A voice in his head once again whispered to him, allowing sobs to erupt from his lips. 

The day he separated from you, he told you you’ll make things work, no matter what it takes. A few weeks after that his mother introduced Naomi to him. It wasn’t her job but she helped him work on himself, gave him all that she has to offer, and held him when he felt like losing his mind.

You were almost out of reach, mostly just talking to him when it concerns your daughter. It almost felt like he was fighting alone. It made him feel like he was not changing anything. He barely sees your face; barely feels you. 

And then it happened, in such a short span of time. Naomi was the only one he sees, the only one he feels with him. 

“It could work, you know? But only if both sides are committed to making it work.” She said, “But like these gears,” She pointed at the constructible toy train of his daughter, “The gears will only work if they fit.” Satoru didn’t need to hear any more of her words to understand what she was trying to explain. 

He found himself smiling at her smiles and laughing at her laugh. He found himself saying: “We kinda fit, don’t you think?” nudging her playfully as they walked Yui to the park, earning a shy laugh from her.

He found himself spending more time with Naomi than spending time figuring things out with you. It all just happened in such a short span of time. 

It felt like setting himself free when he didn’t have to think about the problems with you. It was emancipating to just lie under the covers, snuggled up in bed with Naomi’s skin against his. It was a breath of fresh air to share the same breath as her every morning and night as they soak in each other’s embrace, feeling the warmth of their swollen lips on one another.

He wishes that he considered the day he’ll see you like that with someone else. 

To say that he was shocked when you came and saw him with Naomi was an understatement. He didn’t want it to be like that. He wanted to introduce her to you, to explain things to you, but for some reason, he couldn’t bring himself to do it. He didn’t want you to think that you meant nothing to him. But at that time, he thought that he meant nothing to you. 

He searched for the emotions in your eyes but failed. He waited for your questions of “Why?” and “How?” but they never came. It’s like you just really stopped giving two shits about whatever happens in your relationship. And Naomi’s words reverberated in his head: “The gears will only work if they match.” 

And that’s how his decisions were made. 

That you deserve someone who’ll treat you how you want to be treated; that he deserves this serenity with Naomi, too. He’s not some kind of hero to keep heading for war when there’s a humble abode waiting for him. He thought that there was nothing for you and him but different paths. Maybe this is how falling out of love happens, he thought.

And that is how he learned that decisions can sometimes take months and even years to realize and regret. 

“I love you too much to fight anymore, Y/N.” Satoru was pretty sure that he was inaudible and incomprehensible by now. The cracks in his voice and his occasional hiccups were probably louder than any sound near his phone. “You know, I never meant any of the shit I said to you that day. You and Yui were the best thing to ever happen to me, never will I regret you, love.” 

He couldn’t even pay attention to your voice as he harshly wiped his tears away, blinking his eyes to look up at the blurry, colorful lights “I know you’re happy, I know you don’t even want to see me again if you’re given a choice.” Satoru shook his head, undoing the first two buttons of his shirt so as to help with the ache that is now smoldering his chest.

“But I just want to take those words back.” He whispered, running out of breath before quickly gasping, “Hell, I just want to take everything I did after I gave up on us back.” Getting nothing was painful enough, and so is getting up. 

He doesn’t know where he’s going but he trusts that his feet will take them to where he belongs.

—---------------------------------------

“Yeah, she’s sleeping now. Sunburnt and all.” You laughed, tilting your head as you tried to hold your phone between your ear and your shoulder. “‘Gumi talk, Daddy. Pwease,” You heard Megumi’s voice over Toji’s chuckles. You and Yui spent all day at their residence once again. The kids had a mini swimming party with the neighbor’s son, Yuuji. 

You can’t deny that your little girl’s been a bit more energetic nowadays. She’s also learning things, like pouring beverages into a cup; something from the internet that Toji has been teaching Megumi to do. “What do you wanna say?” Toji answered before the little kid’s voice followed. “Yui later. Come later. Uh, bye.” The little message made you giggle.

“She’s asleep now, ‘gumi~ We’ll visit again soon.” You heard Toji playfully scold him to go to bed already before getting back to the call, “I’ll tuck him in now. I’ll see you tomorrow, babe.” Humming, you said your good nights before ending the call. You watched Yui sleep, caressing her soft, blushing cheeks. 

Everything’s been going good, and you could only hope that it’ll also be good for her.

Placing a gentle kiss on her forehead, three knocks at the door almost gave you a heart attack. It’s already late, who could it be? The place is a three-unit, up-and-down apartment, maybe someone got the wrong door. Wrapping yourself in a robe, you walked to the door. There was a muffled sound behind, and you can’t miss your name being mumbled.

You know the voice too well to wait any longer for confirmation.

“Satoru?” You spoke, brows knitting together. His hair and shirt were soaked in sweat. “Hey…” He laughed, standing straight as he stared at you with bloodshot eyes. Has he been crying? “What’s going on, Satoru?” You opened the door, letting him make his way inside as you gave him a concerned look.

“I mean it, Y/N.” What is he talking about? You wondered as he looked at you, sobbing all while trying to catch his breath. If somebody else saw him, they’d probably think something really awful happened. Not once have you seen him this broken before; not even when you fought so bad he had to leave the house.

“Satoru, I don’t understand you. You’re dru–“ You were cut off when he wrapped his arms around you, crying on your shoulders as he grabbed the sides of your robe, like a child not wanting to be left alone. “Y/N, please. I know what I’m saying, love.” He was gasping for air as he spoke, pulling away 

“I know I’m drunk but not drunk enough to make wrong decisions.” His laugh lacked enthusiasm. Pulling away, you could see the smile on his face contradicts the big tears cascading down his cheeks. “Did you drive here?” You pulled away from his grasp, thinking about the next thing to do. 

“No, I walked here. Let’s talk, please. Just a few–“ His face was close to yours, begging. His voice broke, and it broke you too and you know you can’t keep listening if he’s like this. “Satoru.” You turned, taking a step away from him. You could hear the shaky breath he took by how quiet it was. 

“Yui’s already asleep.” You informed him, a subtle reminder that you wouldn’t want her waking up to a commotion again. Satoru nodded, lips quivering. “I can call Naomi to pick you up–“ You trailed but it was now his turn to cut you off. “No. I don’t…want that.” He knows it doesn’t sound right, and it gave you the impression that they fought.

“Fine, just your mom, then.” You turned to get your phone but his hand caught your wrist, a secure yet gentle grip. “No. Please.” He sounded like a kid. What has he done that not even the both of them can know that he’s here? “Can I stay here? Just for the night. I’ll sleep on the couch, Y/N. W-we’ll talk later… right?” He was on the verge of crying and you can’t stand there to watch any longer. 

You don’t think it was a good idea, but this is the father of your child. Whatever happens to him will affect your daughter too. 

“Just…wash up. Change. Check on Yui, if you want. I got a folding bed if you want to sleep there.” You turned around before walking back to your room, not waiting for the man to answer. You were planning to have some tea before going to sleep but now you just want to call Toji.

In two rings, you heard his voice from the other line. “Sorry, were you sleeping already?” You paced around your room, pursing your lips. “No, I was just checking on some files. Are you alright?” Concern was prominent in his voice. You wanted to tell him about this because he has a habit of coming over in the mornings. You surely don’t want him getting the wrong idea.

“Listen, Satoru’s here. I feel like he fought with Naomi, I don’t really know. He’s in Yui’s room.” There was a long silence and you got a feeling he was thinking carefully about how to react. “Is he trying to…” Toji cleared his throat before sighing, “Do you need me to go there?” He asked, and you could tell he was not very comfortable with your situation.

It’s only been a couple of months but Toji’s proven nothing but sincerity to you and it was all unconditional. You’re aware of the tension between him and Satoru; the latter being more impolite than the former. But even so, Toji never tried to take away the father role from Satoru. This only heightened your respect for him.

“It’s fine, I just wanted to tell you. I don’t want you thinking anything if you saw him here tomorrow.” You plopped on the bed, massaging your temple as you closed your eyes. “So, you know I’ll be going there tomorrow?” There was a chuckle behind his words. You felt a blush creeping up your cheeks.

“Go to sleep.” You rubbed your eyes, with a small smile on your lips. Once again, good nights were exchanged between the two of you. You’re just glad that Toji isn’t as shallow as other men. You were worried that your decision to let your ex stay for a night would upset him. Putting your thoughts to rest, you lay down on the bed, feeling the soft mattress against your skin. 

Not even half an hour has passed and another set of knocks startled you. The fact that you have no idea what happened with Satoru made you worry. Could it be Naomi? Was your name involved in their fight? You doubt that she’d come here at this hour, though. You don’t see her as that type of woman at all. 

You don’t even know if they really fought. Thoughts raced through your head as you hurried to the door. You wondered if Satoru was woken up by the knocks. He’s drunk and he sleeps like a log when he's drunk. But it would be different if your daughter starts crying. You don’t really want to talk with him about whatever it is. 

It scares you when you think about how ‘the talk’ with him ended the last time. The day he shredded the last remaining hope you had of him, you and your daughter being a family.

Seeing headlights shining down your window pane, you wondered if Toji really drove here to accompany you. But he can’t be that fast, you thought as you opened the door.

Dressed in her expensive coat and a designer scarf, was Satoru’s mother, and you could already tell that she was not in her best mood. If Naomi and Satoru fought, you’re sure that your name’s mentioned.

Without thinking, you moved out of the doorway to let her in, “Good evening, Ma’am—” Slap. The next thing you know, you were already grabbing your cheeks. The skin was throbbing from the force of the contact and you were sure that this is about to leave marks later on. 

“Won’t you quit being a slut?” You thought that the stinging sensation on your face was already painful, but those words proved you wrong. You felt degraded, humiliated even when no one was around; you felt like your whole being was trampled on. You don’t even know what you did. Does she hate you that much?

She used to claim that you ruined her son’s life. That you were just trying to leech off him so you wouldn’t need to work or use your brain. Those words broke your heart, not for yourself but for your mother who tried so hard to give you all that she can. When Satoru confronted her about it, she cried to him, blabbering about why she was right.

It wasn’t easy to speak about those things, you don’t want to make it seem like you were tearing him away from his mother, all while you were tearing him apart due to your situation back then. But you made sure that he knows the reason why you don’t want her around your daughter so much. 

You wouldn’t be surprised if she’s the one who coaxed Yui to call Naomi Mama. After all, she’s also the same mother who shoved someone else into her son instead of helping to make sure that his granddaughter would grow up with a whole family. Do you disgust her that much? It shouldn’t be painful anymore at this point. She already won in kicking you out of her son’s life.

“I-I don’t know what’s going on, Ma’am. My daughter’s sleeping can we talk outside—?” Her scoff halted you. You found yourself wishing that you let Toji come over or for Satoru to wake up. “Now, you don’t want your daughter hearing about her mother’s mess?” She hissed at your face, laughing as you pushed yourself to walk out and close the door behind you.

“Satoru’s here Ma’am but I don’t—” Another slap landed on your face and this time it took everything in you not to throw the punch you were saving in your fist. “How fucking desperate can you be?” With her eyes blown wide in surprise, she pushed passed you, mouth foaming with her nasty words. 

“Satoru!” She called out, walking like she owns the place. “You really took advantage of his feelings for you. You’re always so ready to ruin his and Naomi’s relationship so he’d go back to you.” She turned, pointing a finger at you. Your eyes widened at her words. Satoru’s feelings for me? You were confused.

“Just so you know, my son’s never been healthier ever since he left you. He doesn’t need a toxic relationship with a woman he didn’t even choose to be with.” The words were sharp and the way to your daughter’s room felt like you were being shot with each step. You already know that. 

Why does she have to keep rubbing it to your face that you weren’t someone he voluntarily chose to love?

“Please don’t bring the child to this. I know you—” You felt like you never had the chance to speak a full sentence. “Of course, I won't. I won’t let her grow up with you. For what? So she could turn out to be like you, too? Satoru!” The words filled you with dread. You feared that they could easily take her away from you by any means they can. You got nothing to give. 

Before she could even open the door to your daughter’s room, Satoru already came out. The emotions on his face were indiscernible as she stared at his mother. “Don’t take Yui, please. I won’t talk to Satoru if you want, just don’t take my child away.” You cried, ready to get down on your knees but Satoru was immediately on your side.

“What is this? What is going on? Mom!” Satoru held your figure, shaking violently and your skin, cold. You tried to get out of Satoru’s grasp, wanting nothing but to get close to your child who’s already starting to cry. You hated yourself for putting her in situations like this.

“Let me get Yui, Satoru, please. You can’t take her away.” Satoru was now the one baffled. His head felt like someone was hitting his skull with a hammer from the inside. Now, he wakes up to his mom causing commotion in a house where his daughter is in.

“No one’s taking Yui away, Y/N.” One of his arms wrapped around your waist, and the other, shielding you from his Mom. Satoru used to believe that his mother only wanted the best for him. He didn’t realize that what his mom wants for him is not the best for his daughter. “Mom, what are you doing?!” He reiterated through clenched jaws as you slipped away to get to Yui.

“You ask me what am I doing? You! Satoru, what are you doing, letting this whore ruin you and Naomi?” Satoru’s eyes widened, "Mom!" he looked at you and his wailing daughter, holding her against your chest. Terror was clear in her tear-stained face as she peeked over your shoulders, while you try to keep her eyes away from the chaos, “Bad Meemaw, Bad!” She sobbed, pointing her finger.

Satoru was about to close the door when his mother tried to beat him to it. “Is this how you want to raise your daughter, Satoru? In this environment?!” She was fierce with her words and Satoru’s just slowly putting the pieces together as she spoke. “She’s messing with your head, Satoru. Look at her, getting it on with another rich guy to milk, trying to make you come back to her.”

“You're the one creating this environment. Why did you even come here?” He questioned, stepping in front of her to prevent her from getting to you. “Where else would you be? You just called me saying you still love this bitch—” You don’t understand how a person could hate you so much when you’ve done nothing but try to respect them. “Don’t speak of her like that, Mom! You’re not of any help.” There was a hint of exasperation in his voice.

Satoru’s mother was the second wife to his father. Your mother used to say that 'the woman's just bitter because she knows that she’ll never really have his father’s heart even if she’s the one with him.' The first wife of his father went away, not wanting her only child to be in such tough and disconcerting conditions and just letting Satoru’s father be with his Mom. 

Thinking about it now, you realized that your situation is kind of similar.

“Ma, no cry. Ma.” You heard your daughter reach for your face, making you ache even more. History really does repeat itself, you thought. “Mama’s fine.” You felt sorry for your child; for allowing her to witness something this chaotic. You wished that you’re a bit more well off, maybe her mother wouldn’t be so small and fragile against people like her grandmother. 

“I didn’t call Y/N...” Satoru whispered, turning to look at your back as you tried to protect your daughter from the scene. “Just because he’s wasted and he’s telling you that he loves you, doesn’t mean you get to slither up at him like a snake!” Words were thrown at you and only now have you realized the situation. 

Satoru tried to call your number to tell you that he loves you.

Your eyes snapped up at him, catching him looking already looking at you. He did plan to let you know about how he feels. But he didn’t want you to find out like this. He already messed up by letting himself break down and call the wrong person. Hell, he shouldn’t have even said it in a call.

It just hurts so bad. It’s like the words would pierce their way out of his heart and lungs if he didn’t get them out.

He can’t even expect anything, and he doesn’t even know how you’d take it. He could lose you completely after all this and that’s the last thing he wants. Now that you have Toji, he’s got no choice but to stand aside and watch. Like how he made you feel with Naomi. The thought made Satoru swallow as he took in your crying face; his chest throbbing with pain.

“Mom, can you please just leave?” He spoke in a low voice, breathing hard to stop himself from exploding. “You said too much already. Just go, this is my problem to fix.” His mother’s face tells Satoru she’s not letting up so easily and it took everything in him not to scream back at her. 

“Of course, I have so much to say. I am helping you because she has done so much to you–“ Before she could even her sentence, Satoru was already raising his voice at her, making you cover your daughter’s ear. “Mom, all you did was make things worse!” It was a bad sight, you’ve never seen him get angry at his mother. 

Knowing her situation with his Dad, Satoru always chose to be understanding to her. He once told you that he always wants his mother to feel loved and cared for because his father would never give her enough of that. “How could you? All because of–“ She trailed.

“You’re trespassing, Mom.” He said firmly, forcing himself to calm down. She knows what Satoru meant by that. You could file a case against her if she continues to cause trouble. “Listen, I don’t know what this woman fed you, but you better get your head straight.” She pointed a finger at Satoru’s face.

“I created this problem. Let me fix it by myself.” You could tell that fighting with his Mom is the last thing Satoru wants to do. There was a tired look on his face as he shook his head, “I wouldn’t want to create a space between us Mom. But I can’t let you involve yourself in every decision I make.” His mother can sense the light threat in Satoru’s words.

“Then, make the right decisions, Satoru. Stop ruining your life for someone with no future.” Before any of you could even talk, his mother was already stomping her way out of the room, slamming the door like it’s hers, causing Yui to start crying again. You sat there, thinking about everything you just heard.

“Shh, it’s okay, love. It’s alright.” Satoru took Yui from your arms, eyes full of worry. Rocking the weeping child in his arms, he hung his head low as you stared at him. You wiped the tears that were about to fall as you stood up, heading to the living room and letting him put Yui back to sleep.

You let yourself cry, you let yourself think. Just when you thought you were getting better, just when you started to accept everything that has happened. Yui’s cries slowly stopped after almost half an hour. You wanted to go there and put her to sleep by yourself but you don’t want her to see you cry anymore. It’s not good.

“What were you trying to do, Satoru?” were the first words that came out of your mouth. He stood there, motionless as he watched you turn away to wipe your eyes. “I…I love you. I didn’t mean it when I said I regret you or Yui. I love you.” His answer was a whisper but it was firm. Your eyebrows furrowed, tears once again threatening to fall. “Why?” You sobbed, “Why now?” 

Satoru doesn’t know what to answer. He doesn’t even know if there’s a right answer but all he knows is he can’t expect anything from you. “I…I still do. I don’t think I ever stopped, I—“ He was cut off by your sharp intake of breath as you clutched the fabric of your robe to your chest. He let himself see how much he destroyed you again, how he heartlessly tore you apart once more.

“Why are you trying to ruin me again? Why are you trying to take away what I just got?” Your shoulders shake as you lean your forehead on your clasped hands. He wanted to hold you but he feared that you'd run away. Like how you’re getting harder to reach right now, with every passing second.

“You have no idea how much I wanted you to say that before all this, Satoru. You have no idea how many nights I had to cry myself, putting myself back together while you were trying to make someone else whole!” You turned to him, cheeks and eyes swollen from crying. “You have no idea how many times I blamed myself for not being the better one for you…” You whimpered.

It felt as though your words were a blow to his body, determined to crush his diaphragm to gouge his heart out as payment for yours that he stomped on so many times. Your hands were visibly shaking as you wiped your eyes with the back of it before speaking again, “You can’t say you love me now just because you want to, Satoru.”

“I know I can’t change anything…” Everything that comes out of Satoru’s mouth makes him feel stupid. If he was you, he wouldn’t even listen to him. While you both had your shortcomings in your relationship, Satoru knows that you wouldn’t have pulled yourself away if he didn’t give you a reason to. 

“...but I can make it better, Y/N. I can prove it to you. Just let me—” He was getting desperate to put his feelings into words but you don’t want to hear it. He should’ve known. “Naomi is a good woman. She’s…a perfect fit for you.” You laughed bitterly, “Don’t hurt her. You know why I didn’t fight even when I wanted to get you back?” Each snivel that you make was a nail to his heart. 

“Because you looked happy together.” The pain in your voice was thick before you gasped for air. “And I didn’t want to be unfair to you and to Naomi.” There was a sad smile on your face, probably reminiscing the day you found out he moved on from you. “So…please. Let’s not be unfair to Toji, too.” You looked up at him, smiling through your tears. 

You looked tired; so, so tired of it all.  

“But I love you…” He breathed out as you stood up, ready to retire to bed. “...I just wanted you to know that.” He grabbed your hand, urgently kissing it as he sobbed. You watched his face contort with sadness, closing his eyes and letting his tear slide over the bridge of his nose as he tilted his head to your palm. 

You looked away, suppressing your cries; feeling it harder to breathe through the pain the more you feel his touch. You pulled your hands away slowly before quickly walking to your room. 

Before you locked the door, you could hear his wails of anguish and the sound of two hearts shattering once more.

—------------------------------------------------

You woke up to the feeling of the bed dipping on your side. What time is it? When did you fall asleep? Yui. Remembering your daughter made your eyes snap open, trying to stand up immediately.

“Hey, hey. Calm down, it’s me, I’m here.” It was Toji, when did he come here? The brightness of the color of your curtains indicates the light of the sun shining down behind it. “I forgot that I fell asleep.” You sighed. In fact, you don’t even remember getting on your bed. The last thing you were doing was crying on the floor beside the bedside table. Did Satoru put you in your bed?

“Satoru left after feeding Yui her breakfast. She’s playing on my phone.” He got closer to kiss your forehead. “It’s too early for phones.” You yawned, covering your face with a blanket before sitting down. “Megumi’s with her, I’m taking their phones away after we eat.“ You nodded, pursing your lips as you remembered all the events from last night.

“Let me brush my teeth, I…got something to tell you.” You can see Toji licking his lips before humming, “Alright, we'll talk about it. I cooked something.” Letting him kiss your cheek as you stood on your knees and wrap your arms around his neck. His hands automatically snaked around your waist, murmuring “Let’s talk while eating.” 

You told Toji about what happened the other night. Not as detailed as you remember it but you made sure that he knows everything he needs to know. No matter how awkward it was to discuss for you. There was a blank look on his face throughout the story and you can’t help but feel concerned.

“So that’s why he told me to take good care of you before he left.” It was obvious that he was tense, “I should’ve come last night.” Sighing, you shook your head, “It’s alright, I handled it. Please, try not to worry. You’re my boyfriend now.” You moved to sit beside him, pecking his lips. 

You didn’t know how else to reassure him, you don’t like seeing the defeated look in his eyes. Throughout the day, he would randomly kiss you; burying his face in your neck. He’s more clingy than usual, and although it worries you, you find it really cute.

The following weeks proceeded the same, Satoru picking up Yui and Naomi tagging along wasn’t new but it happened for consecutive weeks now. You don’t know if Satoru told her, but she showed no signs of it. Though her gazes linger between you and Satoru at times, but there’s not a hint of hostility to it. 

You don’t really know how they are with each other in private, but there’s a noticeable change in Satoru’s behavior towards her. “Get your bag from Naomi.” Satoru once commanded your daughter when you came to get her from his house. “Naomi?” She repeated, and running only after he nodded at her, confirming how she should address her.

“Did you take a cab? Toji’s not with you.” He would speak to you in a voice he never did before, it almost shocked you. He lost weight, he looks exhausted. “Yeah, he’s at work.” You answered earning a hum from him. “If you’re comfortable, I can take you home. It’d save you money, you know?” It was now your turn to hum, locking eyes with him.

When did they start looking this gently at you?

“You ready to go?” Naomi cleared her throat, suddenly appearing with Yui behind Satoru. “Yeah, I’ll be driving them home then I'll head straight to work.” He gave her a small smile, picking Yui up before taking the bag that Naomi was giving to you. “Bye, I love you.” Naomi stood on her tippy toes, kissing the side of his lips. “I'll see you later…love you." He responded.

The change on Naomi’s face cannot go unnoticed as she glanced at you. You looked down, feeling bad that she was probably anxious. And the fact that she’s clueless about it all just made it heavier than it already is. 

Satoru opened the door of the passenger side for you. Now, he would usually let you sit on the back. You had to glance back at his house to know if Naomi saw it. You don’t want her to have problems with you when in fact, you're trying to help her.

“How are you and Naomi?” You found yourself asking Satoru as he sat beside you, his eyes watched you from the rearview mirror. “I’m trying. I really am. But I can’t force myself, Y/N.” He looked away, biting his lip. Your daughter was talking to her doll behind you and you’re just grateful that she’s still too young to understand this.

“Satoru, she’s been nothing but good to you. She did a lot of things for you.” You spoke gently. You’re surprised that you could now talk about this more calmly. Because it involves you. And you wouldn’t know what to do if Naomi finds out that her boyfriend’s still in love with you, begged you to take him back and never told her. You don’t owe her anything but you’re not that type of person.

“Would it be right to stay with someone for that sole reason?” He asked, and suddenly, you don’t know the answer. “It might only hurt them more if they find out that you stayed with them just because you feel obligated to and not because you truly love them.” He explained, smiling when he heard his baby daughter call his name randomly.

“It’s Dad. Not ‘Toru” You reached over to pinch her cheek, silently thanking her for breaking the ice. “Toji Dada too? Hm?” You can see Satoru tense up before a sad look flashed in his eyes. “I don’t know, love...Ask Mama?” You can tell he was hurt by how he got quiet. The little joy left in his eyes, now completely gone.  

“You know Toji corrects her for that.” You defended as you stopped at the red light. “It’s good, though. I…” Pausing, Satoru took a deep breath. “I think he’s gonna be that, anyway.” He laughed, tapping the wheel before turning to look at you. 

“You know I just want to prove to you that I love you, right? You don’t have to love me back, I know you’re happy with him.” 

—----------------------------------------------------

Naomi’s been observing her boyfriend for the past few months. She can’t really determine what exactly changed but she knows that it wasn’t the same. The day you picked up Yui with Toji for the first time, she noticed that Satoru prepared more than he usually does. 

At first, she thought it was just him getting more responsible. But when she saw that you came with your new boyfriend, she got a feeling that Satoru wanted to impress. She figured that it was because he wants his baby momma’s boyfriend to think highly of him and left it at that. 

He’s been having mood swings but he’s also been getting more projects to work at so, it’s understandable. She also noticed how almost every movement of his daughter was documented and sent to you when she's with them. It was new because he rarely does it before. But she thought that it was only because your co-parenting plan was going better.

Everything that she notices about Satoru has valid reasons so, why is she feeling unsettled whenever the two of you would meet? It’s an unreasonable feeling because you’re already dating someone. There shouldn’t even be a single concern in her body.

Just a few weeks ago, his mother called her in the middle of the night, asking if Satoru was with him. When she said that she’ll call him to ask where he is, her mother quickly interrupted her, saying that he already replied that he was working overtime for a VIP client. She also said something about not interrupting him because the client’s a big person.

She still texted Satoru that night asking why he didn’t tell her about it. Satoru replied hours later, saying that it was an emergency project that needs to be discussed as soon as possible. After that, he sent another message with ‘I’m sorry.’ 

She came over the following night, intending to give him a soothing break. She prepared thoroughly during the day, wanting to please her boyfriend. Fatigue was obvious in his eyes when she arrived. Like he didn’t get an ounce of sleep.

“I’ll take that tiredness away, just relax in there.” She giggled, sensuously running down her fingers on his skin as she makes sure every physical contact they made was as soft as possible. She went down on him, watching him close his eyes as he grabbed her hair eliciting moans from her.

“Let’s do it without one,” She smiled, excited as she positioned herself on top of him, allowing him to feel her warmth as she pressed her chest against his. It was slow, passionate. He was so gentle with his touches and Naomi wanted to convince him to do it inside her so badly.

She was sure that all those perturbing thoughts of her would also be put to rest if that happens, she thought as she smiles, grinding onto him. But before she could get to that, he halted her, “Wait,” he spoke, reaching for the packet in his bedside cabinet. 

Before she could even speak she was flipped over and it’s now Satoru on top. “I can take Plan B, just do it inside.” She bit her nail, giving him the eyes which only earned a smile, “Can never be too safe.” Not long after that, they both finished. Back then, he would agree to do it inside as long as she takes an emergency contraceptive after.

How come he wanted to be ‘too safe’ this time?

Her worries were put to rest for a little when he held her close when they came to get Yui. It also helped that you're still with your boyfriend. It only lasted for a bit until you had to pick Yui up on your own. Satoru found out that you were taking Yui out for an ice cream and the little girl asked him to come. 

Naomi wanted to join; she was ready to dress up. But Satoru suggested that it should just be the middle day in your schedule, where the three of you would spend time together. It took everything in her not to frown in front of you. She felt rejected, she felt left out. The last straw was the talk she had with Satoru three days ago. 

“What do you think about civil weddings?” She spoke to him, sitting on his lap as he watches T.V. “Huh?” He turned his attention to her, “Civil weddings. Maybe we could have it before the grand wedding, don’t you think?” She wiggles her brows at him, laughing as she daydreamed. Placing his hands on her waist, she kissed his lips softly.

“Or maybe we could put a bun in the oven first so, she’d be with us in wedding photos.” She whispered, half-joking. “Why are you dreaming? It’s still early.” Satoru laughed, taking his hand off of her to get the remote, switching between channels.

“I’m serious, though.” She pouted, hugging his neck. “Yeah, I know. But…It’s not in my plans, yet.” Her heart dropped at his words. She knows that he doesn’t mean it that way but it hurt her that after all the family talk and jokes he made with her, she’ll find out that it’s not even in his plans yet. Naomi wanted to cry, but instead, she got upset. She didn't let him know but she chose not to stay over at Satoru’s that night, claiming that she has paperwork. Before, he would persuade her to stay even if she has to do something.

How come he just kissed her goodbye this time?

It was tough on Naomi. Whenever she would ask Satoru about it, he said that he just got really busy with work. Even when he tells her that he loves her, she can say that he’s not even fully into it. And he doesn’t want to talk to you because she doesn’t want you to think that she’s accusing you when you got a whole new boyfriend.

Picking up her phone, Naomi decided that she just can't take the mystery anymore. “Hey, Mom. Are you free for lunch? I’d like to catch up.”

She just needs some advice. And she thinks that no one knows sons better than their mothers.

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[hysteria-things]

(say the reader is famous also, but not an influencer—maybe like a well known model) hear me out, being close friends with madi and you guys end up moving in together and getting your first apartment

and you come home later than usual one night after ‘hanging out’ with matt and madi knows something is up just by the way you’re walking all slow and stuff and you eventually tell her that you had sex with matt for the first time and she’s just like “omgggggg????? tell me EVERYTHING!” and despite not being able to laugh too hard or else you’ll feel like your pussy is going to rip open LOL you two are just sitting on the couch giggle and talking about the whole thing

PERFECT

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: soft dom!matt x fem!reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: although you’re a well-known model, you’ve been feeling insecure about your body lately. matt thinks it’s bogus, and wants to prove you wrong.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: SMUT, insecurity, praising, oral (female receiving), pet names, p in v

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2,075

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: i kind of hate this😔

before you and matthew sturniolo started seeing each other, he would always lurk on your instagram page. the two of you met through madi, who is your best friend. you guys met at an event a few years ago and clicked instantly. fast forward to today’s time, where you now share an apartment.

you noticed matt being subtle on your page at the beginning of whatever you guys have going on. no, it’s not friends with benefits, being that you guys haven’t had sex yet. he would leave comments such as fire emojis or hypes until he was brave enough to text you a few months ago. that’s how your relationship came to be. nobody knows about it, not even madi or his brothers. you guys made the mutual decision to keep it on the down low for now.

walking through the boy’s bedroom door, you go over to the side of the bed that you sleep on, gathering some of your belongings. you just got back from a photoshoot. being a model has its ups and downs, especially when you’re on the chubbier side. you get a lot of praise from your fans, saying how you’re an inspiration. sometimes, however, it can be frustrating.

“i don’t get a kiss or even a hug?” matt says, who looks away from his phone to stare at you putting your stuff in the overnight bag you always bring.

you look over your shoulder and smile. “sorry.”

as you’re placing the bag down, he’s already sat up and sitting at the end of the bed. you go to kiss him on the temple, but instead, he pulls you over his lap to where you straddle him — although you hover a bit.

he pouts. “you’re not staying the night again?”

shaking your head, you brush a piece of hair away from his face. “i told madi i’ll be home tonight. i feel bad whenever i leave her alone, and i can’t keep up with the ‘my mom needs me to sleepover’ excuse.”

a sigh comes out as more of a groan, his lips traveling to your jaw, pecking down your neck and nipping at the skin. “you can’t put marks, matt.” you say in a whine as he reaches your sweet spot. you take a look at the clock on the nightstand, reading 9:14 pm. “it’s getting late and i have to go. i mean it.”

you get out of his grasp, another sigh leaving his body more dramatically.

matt furrows his eyebrows; something’s not right. he can sense something is bothering you, he just can’t put his finger on it. “what’s wrong?”

laughing nervously, you shake your head. “i’ll get over it.”

“that’s not what i asked— hey.” when you ignore him, he grabs your wrist to turn you around. “look at me, please. tell me what’s bothering you.”

you hate how matt’s so good at this game. he can tell when you’re upset, even in the slightest way possible. you can sugarcoat your true feelings with fake happiness, and he’ll still notice that something isn’t right.

on occasion, you like to look at comments under the recent posts that you make. most of the comments are positive, but one of the downsides of the modeling community is the negative ones. you try your best to ignore them, but sometimes they hurt. this is one of those times.

“i don’t like my body.” you barely whisper, fidgeting with his necklace as you think back to the haters.

“what?” he asks confused.

“forget about it.” you start, tugging at your hoodie sleeves. “seriously, i’ll get over it. it’s stupid people saying shit online. it happens to everybody. it’s fine.”

you do love your job, don’t get yourself wrong, but showing off your body in lingerie as a career can attract the wrong people. in general, it’s quite nerve-wracking. he kisses your cheek before his breath is against your ear. “you’re fucking gorgeous.” he bites the lobe. “let me show you, hm?”

his fingertips brush from your thighs to the hem of your shirt. “can i?” a pulsing sensation starts between your legs, taking your bottom lip with your teeth and nodding.

your shirt ends up on the floor, matt reaching behind your back to unclip your bra that ends up where your other piece of clothing is. he stares, a wide grin plastering his face. “shit.” he says lowly, squeezing your breasts before running his hands down to the buttons of your shorts. the pulsing remains, becoming much stronger.

heart thumping, you don’t make a peep as your shorts and underwear drop to the ground. you’re refusing to look down at your body, but that’s all matt is admiring. a chill runs up your spine as his lips kiss your flesh like before, but it’s more heated while you’re naked and he’s still fully clothed.

they trail to your tits, matt kneeling to reach your stomach and kissing your stretch marks, too. “so pretty.” he mumbles, ending at your thighs and repeating these actions until you’re face to face again.

going over to the bed, he lays back flat and gestures for you to come over as well. you hesitate but do so. he maneuvers your body to hover over him, or in this case, over his face. “i don’t want to hurt you.” you whine, knowing what he wants you to do.

the eye roll is so intense that it’s like you said the most out-of-pocket thing he’s ever heard in his life. “you’re soaked.” he exhales. “all of this for me?”

pink creeps on your cheeks and you nod like how you did before. being so turned on makes it almost impossible to speak. squeezing your plush thighs to keep you in place, he lowers you onto his mouth.

a gasp falls past your lips, his tongue flicking at your folds. you want to get pressure off of him at least a little bit, but he has you fully sat on his face, and he fucking loves it. soft moans along with the slurping noise fill the room, matt’s head shaking at times to feel all of you on his tongue. your pussy tastes incredible to him.

sucking at your clit, his tongue enters your sopping hole. you throw your head back, chest heaving when your moans turn into whimpers. he has you stable in his grip, pure bliss fogging your brain. “oh my god!” you cry out, slamming your eyes shut and grabbing onto his hair.

matt hums, the vibration making your legs close around his head. a hotness forms in your tummy, orgasm building the more his muscle laps in your cunt. “mm— i’m gonna cum.” you gasp, his mouth returning to your clit and sucking at your bud. you swear out loud, legs shaking while you make a mess on his face. you feel his tongue lick the excess cum from your thighs, flinching every time he does so.

in the blink of an eye, he uses his strength to flip you onto your back. your breath hitches as he runs his bottom lip up your body, the clinking of his belt entering your ears until his pants fall join the clothing pile. leaning up to take his shirt off, a grin plasters over his face, admiring your body in every way possible. you lift your head to look down at his rock-hard cock, mouth watering at the sight.

he wraps his hand gently around your throat to push your head back onto the mattress. “you want this dick?” he coos, teasing the tip at your entrance to coat it with your juices. you whine lowly, rutting your hips to get more friction. “hm?”

“y-yes.” you stammer, letting out a choked moan as matt starts pushing himself slowly into your hole. the stretch feels mesmerizing, your eyes fluttering closed when he rolls his hips.

“this pussy has been waiting for this.” he says, humming with contentment when your walls wrap around him. “you look so sexy underneath me.”

“f-faster, please.” you choke out, gripping onto the sheets by your sides.

the movement of his hips plow into you more, your ass slapping against his thighs and an erotic sound comes from where you two are conjoined. numerous curses and whimpers escape your body. his balls slap repeatedly against your clit, the feeling making you gasp and your legs shake. “fuck, matt! yeah!”

“i bet those haters are just jealous they can’t have this beautiful body to themselves.” he starts, pausing to catch his breath. “they can’t fuck it like i can.”

“y-you can’t say that.” you whimper, until the two fingers without rings pacify you. you gag a little around them before you start to suck on them, drool dribbling down your chin. the bed starts to squeak when you wrap your legs around his waist to have him go deeper, your moans muffled by his fingers when he hits your g-spot, back arching from the bed.

“there she is.” he whispers, smiling proudly. “that’s it. you want to cum, baby?”

you clench around his shaft, legs shaking more than they were before. you nod eagerly, the knot tightening in your belly. matt groans, watching your hands go to your breasts to tease and pinch the nipples for more stimulation. you can’t make it out, but you could’ve sworn he mumbles so hot under his breath when his dick twitches inside of you. your eyes roll back, mouth opening wide to scream of pleasure.

body trembling, the knot becomes undone when your cum smears down his red dick, the sight having matt pull out with a whimper. he strokes himself a few times before painting your stomach white.

he collapses on top of you, pecking your lips and whispering sweet nothings into your ear. you get a glimpse of the clock and sigh. 10:32 pm. talk about getting home early.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ❦ ⋆⁺₊⋆

you finally get to your apartment complex forty-five minutes or so later. you live on the third floor and usually take the stairs, but you’re so soar that you wobble yourself into the elevator. you walk as fast as your legs can take you down the hallway to your front door, keys jingling once you tap the key fab to open it. a beep noise echos, meaning you succeeded.

once you turn the handle, you're greeted with the TV lighting up the living room and madi’s head snapping in your direction where she’s sitting on the couch. “it’s about time! did you not see my texts or calls? you had me worried. you’re never this late after a shoot.”

“i’m sorry.” you exhale. “i had to make a pit stop.”

her eyes slit, watching the way you’re semi-limping to the seat next to her. you grunt when you manage to sit, looking over to see her mouth agape but smiling. “what?”

“you had sex.”

“you don’t know that.” you scoff, but hide your face as much as possible when you blush, reminiscing about tonight.

“girl.” she gives you the are-you-serious stare. “you’re practically shining with the post-orgasm glow, and you came walking in here like an old lady. who was it with? do i know them? tell me, tell me, tell me!”

madi grabs onto your arms and shakes them in excitement, bouncing on her knees on the cushion. “mattandihavebeenseeingeachotherbehindeverbody’sbacks.”

her nose scrunches. “huh?”

you exhale sharply, checking your phone that’s on your lap to see some messages from the boy that had you screaming on his cock over an hour ago. “matt and i have been seeing each other behind everybody’s backs.”

she claps her hands once, awfully loud, before pointing at you. “i fucking knew it. tell me everything. pretty please.”

so you do. you explain everything — well, you leave out the explicit details — and she’s beaming the whole time as you speak. your phone goes off again, and she grabs it before you can. “madi, come on!” you screech between giggles. she reads the messages with wide eyes, and you peek over her shoulder to see.

matt :)

babe

you left your bra here

should i try it on?

i’ll look good in it

hello :(

did you fall asleep already?

i think we should make it official

be my girlfriend please

i’ll see you tomorrow

i love you

whoops never said that before

oh well!

goodnight <3

𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

@bunbunbl0gs @lexisecretaccx @thy-mission @angelic-sturniolos111 @sophssturn @moncherriis @janiellasblog @blahbel668 @meg-sturniolo @mattslolita @sturnbaby @imwetforyourmom @tillies33ssss @sturnifyed @raysmayhem-72 @ripmattitude @p1xieswrld @alorsxsturn @multiluvr @delilahprentiss @tworosesblackthorn @gnxosblog @junnniiieee07 @flowerxbunnie @imaslut4kehlani @sturniolosandmoree @hearrtsturns @stars4matt @freshsturns @etershine @tpvmz @sukiipjs @h3arts4harry @sturnioloblogs @creamoncreamoncream2 @ivyyyyyysposts @iluvm4ttsturni0l0 @mbsbaby @mattsdollie @thesturniolos @nononopenono1 @bitchydragonparadise @gdsvhtwa @hrt-attack @dwntwn-strnlo @venusbabysblog @meerkatzthings @bernardsbendystraws @hoes4matthew

[gucciforasushirestaurant]

Handle It

summary: Harry tests your endurance with a new toy.

word count: 1.9k

read time: 8 min

content warning ⚠️: nonfamous!harry x f!reader, pwp, kissing, sex toys, cunnilingus, pet names (babe, baby)

a/n: i had a dream....and now we're here lol. enjoy!

What started as an innocent cuddle during movie night has turned into moans and slow dry humping as you straddle Harry’s hips. And as much fun as you were having, as much as you love the feeling of his lips on yours, and his tongue in your mouth, he could tell that you needed something more. And he knew just the thing that could scratch that itch. 

He pulls away just enough to look at your kiss swollen pout, cradling your face. He smirks at you, stroking your cheek and pecking your pout away. 

“Want to take this to the bedroom?” You nod, biting your lip. “Okay, up.” he says playfully tapping your ass. You’re quick to get off of his lap and he’s quicker to lead you to your shared bedroom. As soon as the door closes behind him, you're wrapped around him again, arms around his neck, fingers tangled in his curls, as you pull him in for a kiss. He pulls away, too quickly for your liking, and rests his hands on your hips.  

“Get up on the bed for me.” Harry demands softly, “I need to grab something.” you tilt your head, eyes narrowed making him chuckle. “You’ll like it, I promise.” He smiles, kissing your forehead,  fingers playing with the elastic of your panties at your hip. “Get on the bed,  bottoms off . But keep your panties on, okay?”

Still unsure you take a step away from him, doing as you were told, stripping yourself of your lounge shorts and getting comfortable amongst the pillows. You watch as Harry disappears into your walk-in closet, for a little too long. 

“Harry,” you whine.  

“Aww. Needy baby. I’m coming,” Harry chuckles from inside the closet, before finally emerging with his hands behind his back. He smiles at the sight of you laid up in your bed, knees bent and feet planted, in nothing but your panties and his old band-tee just like he’d requested.  “You follow instructions so well, babe.” He smiles at you as he slowly approaches your side of the bed. “I’ve got something for you.” 

You lift up on your elbows trying to get a peak behind his back at what he was hiding, but he turns too quickly for you to see. 

“What is it?”  

Harry chuckles at how eager you are, and pulls a large box from behind his back. It’s a toy. Specifically your dream toy, a vibrator that you’d been eyeing for months. You’d showed him the toy one night curled up in bed, after  he’d introduced the idea of the two of you throwing toys into the mix of your typical bedroom play. It was way out of your budget, but it had rave reviews and a few friends had sung its praises. You never thought you’d be able to have one of your own, and knowing how much you hated spending money on yourself, Harry went ahead and decided to surprise you with it.

“You got it.” Your eyes widen and you let out a little gasp. Before looking up at him with the sweetest most innocent eyes. 

“I did.” He smiles proudly. “Thought we could try." What do you think?” He asks, eyes filled with lust. You nod, biting your lip. 

“Y- yeah. Let’s try it.” 

“Alright. But I have a little challenge for you.” 

“Okay.” You say swallowing thickly. 

“Wanna see how many settings you can get through without coming.” 

You let out a little whimper, but nod accepting the challenge anyway, “Okay.”  

 “Think you can get through all of them?” He smirks 

“Maybe.” you lie, biting your lip. You’re rarely able to beat Harry’s little ‘challenges’. They were always for fun, and never came with any real punishment, but still you always tried your best anyway, for the fun of it. And for the look of pride on Harry's face for the rare occasions you're able to beat his challenge. 

“Alright,” Harry smiles, situating himself between your legs. “Now, lay back.”

You do as you're told as Harry opens the box, taking the toy out of its packaging, laying on his stomach between your legs, face inches away from your pussy. He places a peck on either of your thighs before pressing a few buttons on the toy. It purrs to life, and your skin warms, heat pooling between your legs at the sound. Harry teases the toy up and down your inner thighs, and you jolt at the contact. 

“That’s the lowest?” you moan. 

“Yep.” Harry smirks, “You’ll be alright.” he encourages with a kiss to your inner thigh, “If at any point it gets too much just tell me okay?” 

“Okay.” 

He teases the toy some more, placing it above your mound up your stomach before finally landing right over your clothed clit. The sensation causes you to jolt slightly, but Harry soothes you, kissing at your hip. 

“Oh,” you moan. 

“Yeah?” he asks, kissing along your panty line, pressing the toy further into you. “‘S it nice?” 

“‘S really nice.”  

“Good.” 

He lets you enjoy the first setting for a few moments, and once he feels like you're tolerating it okay he looks up at you, “I’m gonna turn it up one more okay?” 

“Okay.” you whine before you hear and feel the vibrator increase in speed, and it’s a jump from the last setting to say the lease.

“Shit.” you moan, throwing your head back against the pillows. 

“Good?” 

“Yeah.” you paint, writhing your hips up into the toy, “But -”  

“What do you need?” 

“Off. I need these off.” you say tugging at the elastic of your panties. Harry kisses your hand removing them from the elastic. 

“No, not yet.” he coos, “Just a little longer, okay?”

“Okay.” you pout. Harry kisses at your inner thighs and hips, wetly and the sensation adds something that you can’t quite put your finger on, but you know it’s becoming harder to think straight. 

“Good girl, baby. You’re doing so well.” He praises. 

Just as you get comfortable with the medium buzz between your legs it comes to a sudden stop. Your eyes snap open, as you look down at Harry from between your legs, but his eyes are locked on your pussy. He sets the toy down, beside you, before running a finger up and down the front of your panties, drawing out a whine. 

“Look at that.” He coos, “You’ve soaked through your panties, baby.” He hooks his fingers into the elastic of your panties, “Think it’s time we take these off, hm?”  You nod feverishly, with a whine. You lift your hips up, helping him shimmy you out of the thin material. As they shimmy down your legs you shiver at the cool air of the room finally hitting your pussy. 

“Can I have a taste, baby?” he asks, eyes locked on your pussy. 

He had plans on getting you off with just the toy. But when it comes to you, and your pleasure, Harry was selfish. He’ll gladly admit it. 

“Mhmm, please.” 

Harry smiles, leaning forward slowly, landing a soft peck to your clit before licking one broad stripe up your pussy with a flat tongue. You moan out, rolling your hips into his face, begging for more and he gives it to you. He cups his lips around your clit sucking it into his mouth working his tongue over the sensitive bundle of nerves, moaning into your folds. 

“Mmm. So sweet baby.” He purred, against you as your hand flew to his hair, tangling into the curls. “And so fucking wet.” He laps at your pussy messily, saliva running down his chin as he works up a pace. 

“Harry.” you whimpered, pushing his face further into you, “Oh my god.” You could feel your skin heat up, the coil in your lower belly tightening, you were so close. 

“No,” Harry taunts, pulling away. “No coming yet.” before he pulls away with a smirk, and your juices all over his face. He wipes his chin, with the back of his hand, looking up at you. “We still have a few settings left. Let's see if you can handle it.” He smirks, reaching  over and grabs the toy again, placing it on the setting he had before, “Ready?” 

You nod fervently,  biting your lip. He obliges, placing the buzzing wand back where you needed it most. The medium speed had you jolt again but you quickly became accustomed to the vibrations again, whimpering and writhing about on the sheets. 

“You're doing so good, baby.” Harry smiles up at you, “Going to turn it up some more okay?” 

“Okay.” you pant, hands gripping at your chest. Harry sees the desperation on your face, can hear it in your voice. You needed him close. So without moving the toy too much, he moves from between your legs, leaning on his side, nestled next to you, one arm above your head, cradling you close to him. 

Once he's settled next to you, you hear two clicks and the toy nearly triples in speed. 

“Oh fuck.” you huff,  as Harry's hand comes down to cradle the side of your face, nuzzling into your neck placing a few sloppy kisses there. 

“You can take it baby, I know you can.” he praises, sucking your earlobe into his mouth. 

You're a moaning mess now, whimpering and moving your hips against the toy, trying to stay grounded , but with Harry kissing at your neck, it's becoming harder and harder to think straight. And it is getting harder and harder to keep yourself from falling over the edge. 

“Breathe baby.” Harry smirks into your cheek with a kiss. “Come on.” He says demonstrating a deep breath for you to copy. You do, trying your best to stave off your orgasm. 

“Oh god - Harry. I’m so -”  and just like that another click and an even faster buzz starts between your legs. 

“I know. But, you can handle it. Can’t you baby?” Harry asks into your temple, nosing at your hair. 

“Yeah. I - I can handle it.” you say breath hitching. 

“Good girl.” Harry growls, “You're almost there. One more, okay? You're doing so good, holding it for me.” 

He lets you get settled with the current setting for a few more minutes, rubbing the toy in tight circles on your clit as you focus on your breathing.  When you hear the final click it takes everything in you to withhold from coming in a second. 

“Harry - I’m going to -.” 

“You can come baby, I want you to.” He leans close to your ear, sucking your earlobe into his mouth. He presses the toy harder into your clit. “Come for me baby.” 

You roll your hips up into the toy, and just like that, your body tightens as you come in a white hot flash, gripping onto his forearm, and turning your face into his for a searing kiss. 

“Oh fuck.” You huff out into his mouth. 

“There you go!” Harry praises,  “Good girl, just like that.” He keeps pushing the vibrator against you, moving it from side to side. “Keep coming, baby. Give me one more.” He urges, and your body responds on its own, coming once more against the toy.  

“Okay okay okay.” you pant, “I’m done.” 

He takes the vibe away kissing you anywhere he can reach. “Alright, okay. You're okay. I got you.” He cradles your face in his, bringing your lips to his, “You did so good, baby. I’m so proud of you.” 

Harry pulls you into his chest, a hand stroking up and down your back as you catch your breath, “That was…wow.” you giggle looking up at him. 

“Yeah? Good investment?” He chuckles

“Amazing investment.” You smile, eyes heavy, “Might put me to sleep.” you joke, through a yawn. 

“Oh that was just a warm up baby.” Harry smirks, “I’m not finished with you yet.” 

✨masterlist✨ ∣ ✨yap & request box✨

[nadvs]

　　💔　⊹　❀　︵　∘　 old wounds ⟢

pairing rafe cameron x female reader

rating explicit 18+

summary you thought you left your ex-boyfriend in the past for good. but one night, when you need a ride home, you drunkenly text him to help you.

content warnings toxic relationship, smut

continuation of this alt ending, inspired by this ask!

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

Rafe is sitting in the sand after an evening at the beach with his friends, laughing under the night sky and knocking back a beer. He finally feels almost back to normal after the shitstorm that was your relationship.

His phone buzzes in his pocket and he has no idea who it’d be. It’s nearing midnight and all of his friends are here.

His body goes cold when he sees that it’s a text from you. heyyyyy can hou give me a ride home??

He inhales sharply, staring at the screen. It’s been two long months since you last spoke, bitterly parting ways.

He doesn’t like to think about it, but the way he left you to walk home that night still fucks with his head. He was pissed off and heartbroken, head foggy from all the shit you said to him.

But as your boyfriend, he spent every day wanting to protect you, and even after he lost that title, he realized he still felt a responsibility to keep you safe.

His anger blinded him that night, though, and he regrets making you get home alone. He checked your social media over and over until he saw proof that you were alive.

Eventually, you blocked him on all your accounts. But apparently, you don’t have his number blocked.

It’s a twisted joke that you’re asking him, obviously drunkenly, for a ride now, considering you could have used one from him that day.

Rafe’s thumbs hover over the screen. He was sure he hated you. But the thought of you drunk and alone wherever the hell you are, so desperate that you’re asking for help from the man who called you a bitch the last time he saw you just because he knew how much the word hurts your feelings, makes his chest ache. And he feels like a pussy for it.

You text again: ill give you avery nice thank you lol

Your words ignite a fire in his core. He’s glad he’s barely buzzed from the beer, clearheaded enough to drive. He replies: Where are you?

Minutes later, he gets an address.

You’re standing outside the house, arms crossed as the wind whips around you. You’d be cold if you weren’t so drunk. Your friends are plastered, half of them passed out around different parts of the house, after celebrating a birthday.

You’re the only single one in your group of friends and hearing them gush about how happy they are with their amazing boyfriends got to you. It’s why you decided to text Rafe of all people to give you a lift home.

You miss him. Every time he crosses your mind, you hate that your heart twists with loss. You’re grieving and you feel like you shouldn’t because the only thing that died was a dysfunctional, painful, awful relationship with someone who didn’t love you enough to improve himself for you.

But enough time has passed that you can hook up with him without it messing with you. And if it hasn’t, you’ll deal with the consequences tomorrow. You’re sad and lonely and horny and he’s the only one who can make you feel the way you want to.

The car he pulls up in is new. It’s not the one you sat in together when you broke up.

Rafe had a penchant for losing himself in booze and drugs and impulsive purchases whenever things didn’t go his way, and you wonder if this car was an indirect result of losing you.

He pulls up beside you. You open the passenger door, your orientation off from all the booze you drank tonight.

“New car,” you say, climbing in and settling onto the cushioned seat.

You try to gain your bearings, finding the seatbelt, while Rafe takes the few seconds he gets to see you clearly before the interior light fades off.

He hates how beautiful you are, how goddamn short your dress is, how there are people who get to see you every day, people you love despite their flaws, meanwhile he was someone too broken for you to stay for.

“No shit,” he mutters. Beneath the rush of seeing you again, he feels nothing but pure agony right now.

“Someone’s grumpy,” you say with a giggle. You finally look up at him, meeting heavy-lidded blue eyes. It’s sobering to see the man who left such a painful crater in your heart.

The car light dims into darkness. You can still see the outline of his hard jaw. And you can still smell him. His cologne makes you feel sadly nostalgic, yearning for the early days of your relationship.

He looks ahead and accelerates.

“You still doing this shit with your stupid little friends?” he says. He picked you up from this house a few times before. He knows your best friend lives here.

“You still mad I have friends?” you say amusedly.

Rafe hated how you used to party. He never knew what you were doing and who you were talking to and if you were safe when you were with your friends.

But he didn’t hate that you always ended up drunk calling him, slurring that you love him. That you spent the next day so hungover that you said you’re never partying like that again.

Your eyes travel over the big dashboard and the darkened flat screen above the console, the time in small, white text. 12:16 AM.

You touch the screen, activating a myriad of apps and options to fade in.

“Fancy,” you say.

Rafe’s jaw tightens, watching your shadowed fingers over the screen. Within minutes, you’re here, in his life again, touching his things, acting like this isn’t hard for you at all.

“What are you listening to these days?” you ask, pressing the music app.

“Stop,” he says sternly, shoving his hand over the screen, powering it off.

You lean back and nuzzle against the headrest, staring at his profile as he drives. In your haze, you wonder how such a beautiful man can let his soul get so ugly.

He stops at a red light.

“What, am I gonna find something embarrassing?” you ask with a soft chuckle.

Rafe hates that you have him figured out. Because yes, he would be mortified if you saw what he’s been listening to. It’s none of the stuff he puts on when his friends are around.

It’s sad, corny shit that at least makes him feel sort of understood. Shit he listens to because of you.

“You should be embarrassed,” he replies. “Getting wasted. Wearing that. It’s so fucking trashy.”

Your gut reaction is to defend yourself, to say you’re not trashy and that he’s just an asshole. But it’d just be falling into old habits, fighting with someone who loves to get a rise out of you.

So, you don’t give in. You’re better than that.

“You used to love this dress,” you say evenly. “Now it’s trashy?”

You grip the hemline between your fingers and he takes in the sight of your thighs pressed against his seat. He always had an obsession for your thighs, loving to squeeze and kiss you there.

The light turns green. You gaze at him, his teeth dug into his bottom lip. He’s just as sexually frustrated as you are. You can tell.

“You can go,” you say. “If you’re done staring at my legs.”

Rafe wants to know if you were bluffing about thanking him. Maybe you even forgot about your flirty text.

But he’s not making a move. He’s not risking rejection from you again. If you want him to fuck you, he’s not the one initiating it.

So, he looks ahead again, pushing his foot down on the gas. There are barely any other cars on the street. He’s counted three pairs of headlights since he picked you up.

“Why are you mad?” you say with another laugh.

“You’re so drunk,” he says.

“I’m not that drunk,” you reply with a shrug. “Seriously, why are you so pissed off?”

His grip tightens on the steering wheel. His ring gleams in the passing streetlights. His profile is strong and concentrated, as if he’s never driven through this area before.

You realize you’re actually making him nervous.

“Is it because you miss me?” you ask, goading him. “I know you still think about me.”

“No, I don’t,” he snaps.

You thought you wouldn’t care, but his words hit you. He’s still so mean. This was a bad idea.

You shift your legs towards the window, looking out your side of the car. Rafe notices. You used to do that whenever you were mad at him.

“I hurt your feelings?” he scoffs mockingly, regaining some of his pride.

“Oh, yeah,” you reply sarcastically, your tone careless. “Like I expected you to be nice.”

“It’s pretty damn nice of me to drive you home,” he snaps.

“You just want to get laid,” you reply. By the way he doesn’t immediately snip back at you, you know the power is back in your hands. “You wouldn’t have come if I didn’t send that second text.”

You turn to look at him. You’re slipping into playing the game of wanting to make him feel like the loser. You thought were above this now. Fuck.

He sucks his teeth, shaking his head in irritation. It’s fucked up that you texted him that just to trick him into doing you a favor.

Rafe shoots you a hard look, but because he can’t help himself, he gazes down your body again, imagining using it the way he wants to.

You could see his lustful gaze a mile away. You lean closer, the coil of desire in you only tightening.

You impulsively rest your hand on his leg, your palm on the smooth nylon of his swim shorts and your fingers touching his bare knee. You can feel the soft hairs on his skin, sure he was enjoying a night at the beach with the guys like he always used to do.

You grip him a little tighter. He grits his teeth so hard it hurts. He realizes maybe you’re not playing a game. Maybe you really do want to do hook up.

“Admit it,” you taunt. “You think about me.”

“Not much to think about,” he scoffs, still trying to have the upper hand, to hurt you any way he can.

“Fine,” you say with a breathy laugh, pulling away.

Strong fingers grip your wrist, roughly guiding your hand back to his lap.

“Okay,” Rafe mumbles. “Yeah. I do.”

“I knew it,” you say with a soft chuckle, stroking your thumb over his thigh. “What do you think about? Other than how good the sex was?”

He huffs another frustrated breath as you drag your hand higher.

“Just tell me,” you whisper.

He can’t. He won’t. He’s not going to open up that wound, not to the girl who gave it to him, not when he knows it’s not safe to do with her.

Impatiently, he grips your hand again to put it on his cock. He lets out a nearly silent exhale of relief once you make contact.

The feeling of how hard he is floods your body with the warmth of anticipation, a need so hard that you feel it in your bones. You bite your lip as you massage him, already desperate to feel him with no barriers.

Rafe comes to a stop sign. He meets your gaze in the dark car, his muscles tense. He doesn’t drive ahead.

“Use your mouth,” he orders, his voice heavy.

You part your lips to say something, to keep playing up the flirty and careless attitude all the booze you drank gave you, but you’re speechless.

You’ve done this before when you were dating, sucked him off while he drove, making him feel better since he usually found something to be pissed off about whenever you partied.

He’s so damn satisfied with how eagerly you pull down the band of his shorts. He shifts, his cock springing out once his shorts are low enough.

Seeing him so hard for you gives you a sense of conceit. You love that you can still do this to him even after months of silence that were brought on by vicious fights.

Every part of him is so irresistible. You haven’t tasted him in so long.

You kneel across the console and the second your hand wraps around the base of his cock, he groans. You flick your tongue against the tip and you feel him roughly pull up your dress, ripping a few stitches, his big hand landing on your ass and squeezing hard.

You dribble spit over his pre-cum and swirl your tongue over him. You feel the car move forward as you sink lower, taking more of him in his mouth, his cock twitching in your mouth.

“Like that,” he groans. His grip on your ass is rough and painful. “Take it all.”

You reach the base of his cock, feeling him deep in your mouth, trying not to gag. The way he groans again makes you want to keep deep-throating him and you hate that you care about his pleasure. About him loving it so much that he’ll realize how much he’s missing out on with you.

You won’t let him finish like this. He owes you pleasure, too. After everything he put you through, you deserve it.

This is unreal. Rafe can hardly focus on navigating down the street with your hot mouth tight around him. He jerks off to the memories of you giving him head while he drove. He never thought it’d happen again.

His fingers dig into your asscheek, stinging you with pain. You wince, inhaling sharply as you raise your head off of him.

“You’re hurting me,” you complain.

“Tough,” he mutters.

“No,” you say. “No. Fuck this.”

You start to sit up, but he stops you, his hand shifting up to rest on the back of your neck.

“Wait, wait,” he says desperately, his voice nearly whispered into a whine. “I’ll stop.”

Rafe pushes your head down, silently begging that you’ll continue. He moans in gratitude when your lips lock around him again. He grips the roots of your hair, his other hand on the steering wheel.

You bob up and down as he drives, your cheeks hollowing. All you can hear is the quiet purr of the engine and the sounds of your wet mouth on his cock.

It’s like he doesn’t know what to do with himself, like he needs to touch you everywhere because this is a goddamn dream he might wake up from.

He lifts his hand off of your head and feels your chest, kneading your breast over your dress.

He can’t drive you home. Not yet. He’s not done with you. He’s not losing this opportunity to see your tits, to feel your pussy squeezing around his cock. He’d hate himself even more than he already does for wasting this chance.

Rafe turns into the first empty parking lot he sees, heading towards the back, facing a fence. He slows the car to a stop once he reaches the back of the lot, all the while trying not to come.

His hips start to buck up and you know he’s close, but before you get a chance to sit up, he pulls you back by your hair.

He gazes down at you, your lips glistening in the dark.

“Get in the back,” he murmurs. “Take everything off.”

He puts the car in park as you scramble to the backseat, pulling your dress off over your head and slipping off your bra and panties.

Rafe watches, his mouth going dry when he sees you naked. He pulls his t-shirt and shorts off and has to duck low to maneuver his way to the back.

The second he’s close enough, his mouth is on yours, kissing you hard as he pushes you to lie on your back. His tongue moves slowly as he takes your head in his hands and it makes you ache for him even more.

This is the type of lover he was, so rough and passionate and making you feel like he’d lose his mind if he didn’t fuck you. The sex was always good, no matter how much you fought.

You wish he wasn’t kissing you. This gesture is too sweet, and you don’t need the reminder than he has it in him to be sweet sometimes.

His cock is pressed against your stomach, wet from your spit. He pulls back, his thumbs on your cheeks as he stares down at you, barely steady on his knees.

It’s a look he’s never given you before. You’re sure you’re giving him the same one. Disgusted in yourselves that you both want this, but so in awe of each other at the same time.

Both of you are panting. You shouldn’t be here. But it’s the only place you want to exist right now.

Rafe’s eyes flit to your chest. You can see him swallow hard. He lowers to squeeze your tits, burying his head into your cleavage, kissing you wherever his lips land.

His fingers dig into your breasts, his mouth is hot on your skin, and when his grip tightens and his teeth start to graze against you, you know he’s getting close to hurting you like he did in the front seat. But your impulse is to try to withstand the pain, to just let him hurt you.

Because at least he wants you, and the way he’s breathing and touching you right now is the definition of a man unstable with desire, and you wish you didn’t care if he wanted you, but you do and he does.

His mouth closes around your nipple and you tip your head back, shuddering at how good he is with his tongue.

Rafe is in a haze. He was sitting on the beach minutes ago, thinking what a good thing it was that he spent most of the evening without you popping up in his mind, but now he’s naked with you in his backseat.

Your smell, your taste, your sounds, they’re all even better than he remembers and he hates that he can’t hate you, not all the way.

You look up at the ceiling of his car through half-closed eyes, desperate for an answer from him. You’re drunk enough to give into the gnawing curiosity of his thoughts of you. You’ve been thinking about it every day for two straight months.

“You didn’t answer me. What do you think about?” you urge again through a strained breath. “Tell me or I won’t let you fuck me.”

“Goddamn it,” Rafe mutters. He straightens his arms, hovering over you. You take in his features. His face is creased in anger, his chest bare and broad and heaving. “Why?”

“Tell me.”

“You’re ruining this,” he says.

“Tell me.”

He lowers a hand between your legs, making you shudder when he drags up your slit. You arch your back as he spreads your lips apart with his fingers, dragging over your wetness.

“It doesn’t fucking matter,” he says, tone low.

He brings his hand up to your mouth, tapping his fingertips against your lips so you’ll open wider.

“Taste how wet you are for me,” he says. You oblige, eyes locked on his as he dips two fingers into your mouth, watching you with so much desire that it looks like it’s hurting him. “You’ll let me fuck you either way. I know you will.”

You gaze at him longingly as he pulls his fingers out of your mouth just to put his hand between your legs again, rubbing your slick folds.

It’s intoxicating how unapologetically depraved he can be, how hard he fights to be the boss of you, but you persist.

“Tell me or I’m leaving,” you say. “I have no problem walking home. You left me to do it before, remember?”

His jaw tightens with frustration. He loathes that you gave him the reminder. He lowers over you, his cock pushing against your thigh as he plunges a finger into you.

Rafe’s body rushes with heat at how you clench around his finger. The feeling of that tightness around his cock will be unbelievable like it was every time he fucked you. He needs this. He hates that you’re winning, but he needs to be inside you.

He leans over, his nose nudging against yours, sliding in and out of you, curling his finger every time.

“I think about how batshit crazy you always were,” he says.

You gasp when he adds a second finger, going knuckle-deep, your body rolling with pleasure.

“I think about how I much I fucking hate…” He groans, hip jutting against your leg, his cock aching. “I hate that you can do this to me, alright? I hate that I was having fun tonight and I still dropped everything to drive you home.”

You bite your lip, frowning with downturned brows as the mix of lust and sadness fill your body. You cup his lower back with both hands, urging him to finally sink into you.

“Fuck me,” you whisper. He pulls his fingers out of you.

“Beg,” Rafe says. He’s so pissed that you pulled those words out of him, so he’ll take whatever power he can have.

“Please,” you say. “Please, Rafe. I need it.”

You feel his fingers wrap around your neck, squeezing at the sides as he pulls back to look at you.

“You need me,” he mutters. “Say you need me.”

“I need you.”

He buries into you with one rough, swift moment, making you quiver with the impact.

“Fuck,” you whisper. You only have the space to wrap one leg around his hips, squeezing tight as he thrusts with fast strokes.

His breath is hot on your cheek. His chest is warm against yours. The pressure of him stretching you, hitting deep inside you, is incredible.

“You think about this all the time, don’t you?” he murmurs into your ear.

You moan in agreement, draping an arm over his firm shoulders, but it’s not enough for him.

“Don’t you?” he repeats.

“Yes,” you say.

“You touch yourself thinking about me?” he whispers.

You sigh, your hand running over the back of his neck, tugging hard at his roots just to punish him in some way, any way you can.

“Yes,” you admit.

You feel him smirk against your cheek, the car gently shaking.

“Bet you can’t even come without thinking about me,” he mutters. He only says it because that’s how he is with you.

It’s such a burden. No matter what he watches, no matter who he hooks up with, he imagines you every time he’s on the cusp of his orgasm, wishing it was you he was coming in.

You can’t admit it, so you turn your head to kiss him just to shut him up. The kiss is so slow and gentle, the complete opposite of how hard he’s driving into you.

Maybe it’s because of all the alcohol you drank, but you’re fighting the urge to cry as your lips join. You two were a catastrophe together. You can never be happy and fulfilled with the man on top of you, kissing you, yet it feels good, self-destructive but good, to spend this moment pretending like you can.

Rafe is going nowhere in life. He’s known that for a long time. But when he’s with you, even when you’re screaming at each other, at least he’s somewhere that matters.

But you took that away. You took away the only thing that meant something in his life. And he pulls back. He won’t kiss you anymore. You broke his heart.

And he fucks you harder and faster, listening to your gasps and your moans, wishing he could just finally get enough of you to not want you anymore.

The friction of his skin against your clit and the power of his thrusts makes you go numb before the orgasm hits you, pushing you into full-body trembles, moaning so loud that you almost can’t believe it’s your own voice coming out of you.

Nobody else gets you to make sounds like that.

You crumble, weakening as he continues to push into you. He nuzzles his head into your neck when he feels his peak coming, smelling you and squeezing his eyes shut as his hips stutter against yours.

You feel him fill you with a rush of heat, holding his breath as he comes. He heaves against you, his thrusts sloppy as he gives you everything he can offer.

All of Rafe’s weight is on you now. He can feel that your breaths are strained but he’s so fucking weak. He has no actual power around you. Not really.

He knows this is doomed. You won’t be together after this. This was just a fuck. And he hates that he’ll drive this car tomorrow knowing what happened in his backseat, allowing you to taint yet another thing in his life with a memory he wishes he didn’t have.

He feels your soft hands tap his shoulders, urging him to get off of you. His thighs ache as he shifts to sit in the driver’s seat.

He doesn’t bother putting his shirt on. He slides on his shorts and then starts the car. He waits for a moment, looking back but refusing to turn enough to look at you.

“Just go,” you say quietly, exhausted.

You get dressed in the back as he drives. Neither of you say anything else.

When he pulls up in front of your house, you grab your purse from the passenger seat and get out of his car, your legs wobbly as you walk up to your door.

Rafe watches you disappear into your home. He needs to watch you disappear from his life, too. Because while you hate each other, tonight, you fucked like people who don’t.

And now he has a fresh wound. Something else to think about. To regret. Nothing good ever came from knowing you. The high you give him is never worth the crash.

You don’t cry while you get ready for bed. Not when you look in the mirror while you brush your teeth. Not when you clean the night off of you in the shower.

But once you’re under your covers, alone in the dark, a hot tear runs out of the corner of your eye and onto your pillow.

You were so sure sex with Rafe would just be sex. And you feel ridiculous for the misguided self-confidence. He still has you in a vice.

You wish you were drunk enough to forget what you just did. But you’re not. You’ll remember and regret every part of it.

(continuation)

[mistiell]

Hello!! Since your requests are open and I absolutely love the way you write him (despite there only being one—), may I request some sort of angst to fluff for Astarion with a reader that accepts his advances but doesn’t seek him out because they know that he’s only doing so for protection/convenience?

Like; yes, the reader does care deeply for him. They could even say that they love him. But they don’t want him to do anything just because he feels as if he’ll be denied kindness and sustenance if he doesn’t. So they’re very reserved and keep to themselves, treating him very kindly when he propositions them, but doesn’t do anything more than what he asks.

Omg, thank you so much!! I worried I might have portrayed him in a way that was ooc but I'm glad to see people like the way I write him!! lol WC: 1.6k

---

Astarion has manipulated and romanced countless people over the centuries. He knows what he’s doing. The routine differs depending on the person, of course, but he has it down to a science.

You shouldn’t be any different.

Since the first time you let him feed on you, it’s become a sort of routine he regrettably relies on to stay satiated. It’s been nearly a month and a half of sneaking to and from your bedroll every few nights, and he’s begun to worry that you’ll tire of it – that you’ll get sick of the fatigue and the lingering ache in your shoulder that clings to you well into the morning after.

This particular morning, he sees it in your sluggish movements and absentmindedness. Karlach has to call your name thrice before you finally turn to her with a small, “Hm?”

“Gods, has the tadpole migrated and blocked your ears?” The tiefling chuckles, cuffing you on the shoulder on the same side Astarion had fed from the night before. With a pained grunt, you wince, brow scrunching in discomfort as you roll it out a little.

Karlach gasps, “Oh, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“It’s alright.” You smile, but when Karlach leaves, it falls as you rub at the juncture between your neck and trap muscle. If he doesn’t find a way to keep you on the hook, there’s no chance you’ll let your late night meetings continue.

So, when the two of you are sitting by the fire after setting up camp for the night, he decides to offer up the only thing he can think of to keep you interested.

“Ugh, Gods. There is nothing to do around here.” He huffs, prodding for an opening.

You snort, taking a sip out of your water skin, “You can say that again.”

There it is.

“You know,” He leans just far enough into your space to make you fluster, smirking, “We could always make our own entertainment?”

Eyes darting away from him, your throat bobs, “What do you mean?”

He leans in a little more, making sure to glance at your lips as he purrs, “I think you know what I mean, darling.”

“I think—,” Your voice cracks up an octave and you clear your throat, embarrassed. It’s rather cute, “I think I do...?”

“You think so, hm? Tell me what I mean, then.” Your mouth opens and closes a few times, and he can hear your heart beating fast against your ribs. He chuckles coyly through his nose and leans forward to brush the tip of it along the apex of your cheekbone, lowering his voice to a seductive whisper, “Might it have something to do with,” His fingertips find the top of your hand where it rests on your knee, ghosting up under your sleeve and over your wrist as he breaths, “Touching, maybe?”

A shudder runs through you as you swallow hard, “May— Maybe...,” He’s not expecting it when you pull back and look at him apprehensively, “But... I mean, are you sure?”

The question takes him aback; throws him off balance. No one’s ever bothered to ask before. It makes him wonder if he’s off his game, if perhaps his act isn’t as convincing as it normally is.

He shakes it off, grinning at you coquettishly, “Of course, my dear. I wouldn’t have suggested it if I wasn’t.” It’s not the first white lie he’s told you, and it certainly won’t be the last.

You wet your lips, searching his expression for any sort of hesitance. He’s careful to make sure there’s none to find. When you’re satisfied, you smile shyly, “I’d like that” “That’s what I like to hear.” He hums, standing before offering his hands, “Shall we?”

You take them, and as he leads you somewhere more secluded, he counts it as a victory.

Weeks pass, and he’s sure to propose a little fun between feedings to keep in your good graces. One thing that he’s noticed is that you never really ask him to do anything more than what he’s suggested. He expected you to come to him every once in awhile after the first time he’d bedded you, maybe ask for a piece of him when you’re bored or in need of some stress relief, but... you haven’t.

He also expected you to have at least some demands, but aside from voicing your preferences in the heat of the moment, you haven’t asked him for a damn thing. For a moment, he wonders if he’s losing his touch, but he shakes the thought off as quick as it comes. The implications of it make his stomach churn.

If not his body, what else does he have to offer?

“Astarion?” You call as you approach him where he stands near his tent.

He startles, then clears his throat to play it off. “Yes, darling?”

You smile apologetically. “Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“No worries, my dear.” He doesn’t understand why you’d apologize for something so small, or why it makes his undead heart twist uncomfortably in his chest, “Did you need something?”

“Come with me?” You ask, offering a hand, “I have something I’d like to show you.”

This is it. You’ve finally come to offer yourself up instead of it being the other way around.

“Ooh, I like the sound of that.” He hums, taking your hand and allowing you to lead him into the forest. A rather odd location to lay, but he’s definitely worked with stranger.

Weaving through trees, you lead him to a small clearing with a blanket spread out over the grass in the center. You only let go of his hand when you reach the edge of it, toeing off your boots before carefully plopping yourself down on top of it.

“So this is what you had in mind, hm?” He grins, following suit after you pat the spot next to you, “A romantic romp under the stars?”

“Oh! Uhm, no.” You titter, and he frowns.

“Then what did you have in mind, pet?” He asks, watching you twiddle your fingers.

“I-.” You huff, rubbing at your mouth and glancing away, “There’s supposed to be a meteor shower tonight, and I thought we could watch it together.” You let out a small, embarrassed laugh, “It’s stupid. You don’t have to stay, obviously, but... I thought it could be nice.”

What the fuck.

“You... brought me all the way out here, just to watch the stars?” He asks, sounding bewildered even to his own ears.

You look back at him nervously, nodding, “I did.”

What the fuck.

He should say something, but for the first time in a long while, he’s completely lost for words. His brows draw together in confusion, and when he speaks, his voice comes out wrong; too soft, too shaky. “Why?”

You stare at him, worrying your lip for a moment before starting carefully, “You don’t need to sleep with me to buy my kindness, you know. I enjoy our nights together, of course, but I’d like you just as much without them.”

Now he’s really at a loss. His stomach lurches with the anxiety and embarrassment of being seen without meaning to be. He feels vulnerable; exposed.

“Of course I know that.” He scoffs, attempts a smug grin. His voice shakes as he says it, “What’s not to like?”

You huff a small, singular puff of laughter, “Right.”

Something flashes above, drawing both your attentions. Stars shoot across the blackened sky, streaking it with white and blue and purple. You gasp, eyes so wide, he could watch the whole spectacle through the reflection dancing over them.

You lay back, using your forearm as a pillow as you watch the sky intently. He follows soon after, a strange silence falling over the two of you.

He tries to focus on the sight above him, but your words have a hold on his mind like a vice grip. It’s been so long since anyone has shown him kindness without some sort of transaction involved. So long that he can’t even recall it ever happening.

He stares hard up at the sky, mouth twisting down in apprehension. He swallows thickly before murmuring, “Would you really?”

He sees you turn your head to look at him out of his peripherals, brows drawn together in confusion, “Would I really what?”

Embarrassment flares and writhes in his gut; his nose wrinkles at the feeling. He feels utterly ridiculous as he replies, “Still like me if I didn’t...”

He can’t find a word that sounds right. You understand anyway.

Some strange, melancholic sort of horror flashes over your face before you will it away, nodding resolutely.

“Absolutely.” You flip your hand so it lies palm up on the blanket. An invitation, not a demand, “You mean more to me than sex, Astarion. I don’t care what we do or don’t do, as long as I get to be with you. Whatever that entails.”

A lump forms in his throat and his eyes burn. He knows if he looks at you, he’s not going to be able to keep the tears at bay. He looks at your hand instead, staring for a moment before slotting his fingers between yours. Squeezing, he hopes you’ll take it as what it is, “Thank you. I don’t think I deserve this. I don’t know how to navigate this. I think I want to try.”

You squeeze back. He takes it as, “I’ll wait for you.”

[spidehpig]

the crooks are out, and the streets are grey

aka a prison pen pal au

HUUUUGE fucking thank you to @ceilidho for all of the writing advice and beta reading this and just generally being a big motivation and indulging in all of my random cod thoughts lol

this is incredibly self-indulgent. tags will be updated accordingly with a warning on each chapter when necessary. i'm a big fan of ghoap being perverted violent freaks if you couldn't tell.

thanks for reading besties. sorry there isn't any direct reader x ghost interaction yet. i promise it's coming.

you can also find me on twitter

[cw implied sexual harassment, future dubcon, explicit sexual content] 18+ MDNI

AO3

Part 1

It starts with a little slip of paper shoved under the bars of his shared cell with Soap. 

An official notice to inform inmates of the start of a new pen pal program the following week. Some rehabilitative bullshit about encouraging good behavior and rehabilitating prisoners on track to be released within the next few years. Ghost can’t help but roll his eyes as he crumples up the slip of paper and makes his way to the prison yard. Doesn’t give it another thought. 

That is until he receives a letter. Packaged in a little envelope with the prettiest handwriting he’s ever seen, addressed to the one and only Simon V. Riley: Inmate #634. The envelope had been torn open with a letter opener, read by prison staff, and searched for contraband, of course, before it made its way through the slot of his cell door. It comes in a lilac envelope and it's even adorned with a pretty little heart right next to his name scrawled in cursive. 

Ghost shoves the pastry he swiped in the cafeteria from a new inmate into his mouth as he rips open the letter with mild interest. He lets out a snort when he sees that the staple holding the pages of the letter together was ripped out by whatever guard had gotten stuck with mail duty today. He knows that you’ll have already received an angry voicemail from the prison advising you that all mail to inmates must be paperclip and staple free upon arrival. 

He glances over the letter with disinterest, a couple paragraphs introducing yourself and one detailing your excitement about joining the program. He only skims his way to the second page where you start to ask him questions about himself before he’s crumpling up the pages to shove under his bunk. He’ll be free of this place in a mere sixteen months; doesn’t need a bloody pen pal to encourage good behavior. 

He knows that there is anger and violence rooted deep within him. On a good day, it simmers in his chest, a warm heat that lies dormant. On bad days, it burns so hot that he can feel the angry heat creep up into his throat. It makes the words that spill from his mouth cruel, and his calloused fingers twitch as he stomps his way over to the courtyard to beat the old punching bag until his shirt is soaked through with sweat and his knuckles are raw and bloody.

Not all bad days end with him wrapping his split knuckles with bandages from the infirmary. Sometimes they end with him in solitary and picking another inmate’s dried blood from underneath his fingernails. He hasn’t had a bad day like that in over a year now. 

If he’s being honest with himself, it’s only because he doesn’t want to jeopardize his early release. Most of the other inmates know well enough now to leave Ghost be. The last inmate to piss Ghost off ended up in the infirmary with three broken ribs and two of his own teeth spat into his palm. 

Poor sod ducks his head like a quivering dog every time he meets Ghost’s gaze now; surely won’t make the mistake of cutting in front of him in line at the cafeteria again. Ghost hasn’t been outside of a prison in the last seventeen years but he can’t imagine a civilian would try to swipe food from his plate or pick a fight with him just to see if they could win it. 

So he lies through his teeth at every psych evaluation. Tells the doctors that the exercises they suggested are helping him manage his anger. He has a feeling they don’t quite believe him, but he hasn’t had an episode in over a year to justify their reservations. And since they don’t question his ability to rehabilitate into civilian life, he tells himself that he’ll be fine on the outside. All he has to do is keep to himself until Johnny gets released eight months after him. He just needs to behave for another year and he doesn’t see how writing letters would make any difference.

He had thought that if he just ignored the letters they would eventually stop coming, but despite his obvious reluctance to partake in the program, the letters keep coming. Every last one in a pretty lilac envelope, notably staple free since the first one. He gleans little from her letters. Some young bird that signed up for this pen pal exchange. She’s twenty-one and has an interest in criminology. 

Ghost decides that he hates her for it. 

Each letter gets shoved under the bunk; most of the time he doesn’t even bother to open and read them. He rolls his eyes when Soap whines and begs to trade pen pals with him. Apparently the poor mutt got stuck with some seventy-four year old retired veteran and he doesn’t think it's fair that Ghost got paired with a young woman. 

It isn’t until he receives yet another letter from his unwanted pen pal, this time addressed from another country, that something finally makes him stop in his tracks. The bird is apparently studying abroad and when he opens the envelope, a flimsy polaroid floats down into his lap. He doesn’t bother to read the newest letter and instead snatches the picture up between his thick fingers. He can’t help the groan that escapes his lips the second he flips the polaroid picture over.

Ghost hardly even looks at the sweet smile and bright blue ocean behind her. No, that’s not what catches his attention. His gaze immediately flicks down to the swell of her breasts taking up half of the image. What would be an innocent selfie to most might as well be a page ripped straight from a playboy magazine to Ghost. Clearly taken at the beach after a swim in the ocean, sweat and ocean water glistening on your skin, and Ghost can see the peaks of your nipples poking through your thin bikini top. 

And fuck is that enough for him. He hasn’t had a woman in, well, ever, and the guards keep confiscating his playboy magazines, so this will have to do. A low grunt escapes his chest as he reaches down to palm his cock that’s now twitching to attention. He pauses to make sure Soap is still snoring, loudly , in the bunk above him before he reaches down to grope at his stiffening prick. Unzips himself from his prison issued track pants and palms at his stiffening cock over the thin fabric of his briefs. 

He hisses between his teeth when he dips his hand under the band of his briefs and the rough skin of his palm tugs against the sensitive skin of his cock. Has to yank his hand back and spit into his palm before wrapping his thick fingers around the base of his cock. His other hand grips the picture of you between his fingertips as he pulls his foreskin back to reveal his swollen tip already leaking precum. It twitches in his hand as another glob of precum leaks down his prick. 

He has half a mind to wake Soap up and shove his cock down the boy’s throat. If he fucks his throat deep enough he could pretend it’s the tight heat of your cunt clenching around his cock while he laps at one of the nipples peaking through your bikini. 

Ghost’s fantasy is shattered the second the little shit sleeping above him wakes with a loud snort. He watches Soap’s head peek over the side of his bunk, pretty blue eyes clouded with sleep as his disheveled mohawk dangles over the metal bunk. 

“Yeh could’ve asked for a helping hand yaknow that, Ghost. Yeh know I’d—” Soap’s voice cuts off abruptly, eyes narrowing on the polaroid clutched in Ghost’s hand and the other wrapped around his prick.

”Whatcha got there, Ghost?” Soap drawls, accent still thick from sleep.

”Fuck off, Johnny,” Ghost grunts as he looks back down at your picture and gives his cock another stroke.

No use in deterring his mutt once his sight is set on a bone though. He feels the bunk shake and squeak as Soap scrambles down the ladder, the pervert already tenting his boxers as he crawls into Ghost’s bed.

”I said fuck off, Johnny.” Ghost grits his teeth and clutches your picture to his chest. Trying desperately to reimagine the swell of your tits pressed against his chest when you finally sink down on his cock. But Soap is relentless. His needy slut straddles Ghost’s thighs with a smirk on his face. 

And fuck it, his boy is gagging for it, he might as well. He doesn’t acknowledge Soap’s incessant teasing and instead fists a hand through his soft mohawk before shoving the brat’s head between his legs. 

A low growl escapes his chest as the man’s lips wrap around his throbbing cock. And fuck, does his mouth feel good, tight and wet as his soft lips slide down Ghost’s length, throat swallowing around him. He loses himself in the feel of Soap’s practiced mouth, eyes only snapping open when Soap lets out a deep moan. Before he can even think, the palm of his hand is connecting with Soap’s cheek, hard . It draws a low moan from Soap’s throat which only serves to irritate Ghost more.

”Shut up,” Ghost snaps and pushes Soap’s head down on his cock until he feels the man flinch and gag around his prick. Usually he loves to hear the whorish sounds that fall from his boy’s pretty lips but right now, he’s trying to imagine the way you’d cry out and beg as he inches his cock into the tight heat of your cunt. Ghost slaps his boy across the cheek again when Soap lets out a low growl and scrapes his teeth on the underside of his cock. 

Soap seems to get the message, his moans and growls slowly quiet, swirling his tongue around Ghost’s swollen glands before sinking down until his nose is buried in Ghost’s pubic hair. Ghost loses himself in the wet heat of Soap’s throat once more, eyes rolling back as his head knocks back against his pillow, your pretty smile contorting itself into a cry as he bullies his cock into your cunt. His hips buck and bruise the back of Soap’s throat with every thrust while he dreams of fucking your pretty cunt full of his cum. He cums with a snarl on his lips and Johnny gagging around him. Holds Soap down on his cock as he reaches down to squeeze at his balls one last time before ripping the boy off his cock with a sputtering gasp. 

Soap is immediately scrambling up the bed, grinding his prick against the swell of Ghost’s thigh.

”C’mon, Ghost, lemme see, just a peek I swear that’s all I need,” Soap whines, frantically grinding his cock against Ghost’s leg. Ghost blinks as the bliss from his orgasm melts away, the bunk creaking from the force of Soap’s desperate thrusts, the man panting and grunting above him. 

He languidly flips your photo between his fingers, any streak of possessiveness gone now, as long as it’ll get his mutt to stop humping his leg faster so he can get some sleep. 

“Ah, fuck , Ghost, looks bonnie, don’t she,” Soap pants as his eyes flit over your bikini photo, the grind of his hips losing their rhythm for a moment. 

“Bet ‘er ass hasn’t been fucked yet,” Soap groans.

”Make ‘er take us both.”

”Bet she tastes sweet.”

”Pretty thing.”

Ghost barely registers Soap’s babbling above him, just grabs his ass and guides his hips against his thigh until Soap is cumming in his briefs with a low moan. When the boy finally calms down enough to catch his breath, he pulls the cum soaked briefs off of his boy and tosses them across the cell before pulling the mutt to his chest as they both doze off.

Ghost wakes annoyed, drenched in sweat and cum and Soap snoring loudly against his neck. The little shit has the audacity to grumble and pout when he makes Soap go sleep in his own bunk. When he hears Soap’s start to snore, he sits up, stealing Soap’s pencil and a spare sheet of paper. He starts scribbling words back to you. The first letter he’s responded to. His handwriting is ugly and near illegible, but he thinks you should be able to read most of it. He hangs his arms out of the bars of his cell and whistles at the guard stationed down the hall. Shoves his letter to you in the guard’s hand and grunts at him to send it to his bird.

The guard, Andrews, he thinks, scoffs snatching the letter from Ghost’s fingertips before banging on the cell door.

”MacTavish! You got a letter for your lovebird too?”

Ghost groans, already prepared for the bitchfest that’s about to happen.

Soap awakes with a loud snort, head snapping up over the edge of his bunk and rubbing the sleep from his eyes.” 

“Aye fuck off, you limp dick prick,” Soap growls and scrambles down the rickety bunk to press the length of his body against the cell bars as he curses the guard that taunted him. A litany of Scottish curses fall from his lips as Soap presses his forehead to the bars and goads the guard into approaching their shared cell. The little spitfire has himself so worked up he’s pacing the length of their cell and spewing insults at the guards on duty.

“I know yer playing favorites, Andrews. Think yer funny giving me some old bastard, don’t yeh?” Soap hollers into the hallway and slams a fist against the bars of their cell, pressing his forehead against the bars once again, growling and swearing some more when Andrews takes a step back, barking out a harsh laugh. Ghost can practically see the metaphorical fur on Soap’s hind spike up at that, just a moment before he spits at the guard’s feet. Andrews, the scrawny little fucker, lurches forward to swat at Soap’s fists clenched around the bars of their cell with his baton.

“You better back up and watch that mouth of yours Mactavish, or it’ll be another two days in solitary for you,” Andrews snaps at Soap and shoots a knowing directly at Ghost. 

And oh does Ghost hate when Soap gets sent to solitary. Can’t use his boy’s holes when he’s locked up on the other side of the prison. The rough drag of his own fist just can’t compete with the tight heat of Johnny’s throat or arse. Especially now that he’s got a bird back home to think about. Ghost grips the back of Soap’s sweat soaked shirt and yanks him back from the cell bars, grunting at him to give it a fuck rest.  Ghost retreats to his bunk when Soap finally cools off, watching as Soap flops down onto the chair at their shared desk and starts to angrily scribble in his journal, occasionally grumbling to himself under his breath. He settles back against his pillow, content with thinking about his new bird on the outside until the guards release them for breakfast. He almost feels bad about not writing to you sooner. Poor girl tired of her letters going unanswered, you really were just begging for his attention when you sent a violent inmate a photo of your tits now, weren’t you?

[fetusgooseandjuice]

Perfect

Pairing(s): Knight!Natasha Romanoff x Princess!Reader

Summary: Natasha becomes insecure about her place in your life.

Word Count: 2.9k

Warnings: Tony Stark being a jerk

Authors Note: This is another mini-oneshot to my fic “Soulmates”. I’d recommend reading that one before this for context to be able to grasp the storyline! Also I have deleted this post and reposted it so many times because it wasn't showing up in the tag at first lol

Mini-oneshots: Forever | Promise

(Takes place before Natasha proposes in Forever)

“Great work today everyone, but stay behind just for a moment as we should have a guest arriving any minute now.” commander Fury said.

Natasha wiped her forehead with a towel before taking another big gulp of water. Her and the rest of the knights had just finished their weekly training session, and were now cleaning up to return home.

“If it’s another one of his war buddies coming to help tell all of their ‘stories in battle’ again, I’m slipping out the back gate.” Clint muttered.

The redhead rolled her eyes and chuckled, “You act as if you actually have somewhere else to be that’s not here.”

A playful scoff left the man, “I’ll have you know that I have a date later, and I’d prefer not to smell like dirt and sweat when I see her.”

Clint Barton was the first friend Natasha made when she began training to become a knight years ago. He specialized in archery, and would often help teach the trainees the ways of the bow and arrow.

He met Natasha after the arrow she’d shot nearly took the man’s head off— hence why her area of specialty was always hand-to-hand combat.

That was the first and last time he chose to stand off to the side whenever she held the weapon. From then on, he made a point to always stand behind her instead.

“Oh, so Laura finally agreed to go out with you?”

He shrugged with a smug smirk, “She was bound to say yes eventually,”

“May I have your attention everyone!” commander Fury’s booming voice sounded, interrupting their conversation.

Beside him now stood a familiar face.

“This is Lord Tony Stark,” he began, “He has been so kind to take the time to design us some new armor and weapons, so make sure to pick yours up from the armory at some point and thank Lord Stark on your way out. You’re all dismissed.”

At that, everyone moved to finish packing up and begin heading out.

Natasha was acquainted with the noble. His name had sometimes come up during your rants about the meetings you’d attended that day. Needless to say he was a genius, but at times could be a little self-absorbed and insensitive.

“As smart as that man is he sure can say some really dumb stuff.” Natasha remembered you saying.

She quickly grabbed her bag and made her way toward the exit of the training grounds, leaving Clint having to jog to catch up with her.

“So now you seem to have somewhere to be too,” he teased.

The redhead didn’t have the chance to make another playful remark as a smile overtook her features that’d be difficult for anyone to miss.

“Y/n is coming home from her trip to the neighboring kingdom tonight, and I want to do something nice for her.”

Clint raised his eyebrows, “Does this ‘something nice’ have anything to do with that ring in your bag?”

She’s had the ring for almost a month now. Yelena and her mother helped to pick it out, but she was still thinking about how and when to pop the question.

“Not yet,” Natasha said, “I haven’t spoken to the King and Queen about it, and I want it to be perfect when I ask her so I still have planning to do.”

The archer scrunched his nose in a faux look of disgust, “God, when did you become such a romantic? What are they feeding you over there in that castle?”

Natasha rolled her eyes, “You’ll understand if things work out between you and Laura.”

As they approached the exit gate, the face of Lord Stark became clearer. He was exchanging a few words with each knight as they left, some deciding to shake the nobles hand as well.

When it was their turn, Clint gave a firm nod of his head and held out a hand for Lord Stark to shake.

“I wouldn’t suppose some new bows and arrows were included in this upgrade as well?”

Lord Stark raised his eyebrows, “Wouldn’t be much of a weapon upgrade if I left those out now would it?“

As Clint thanked him, Starks eyes now focused on Natasha when she stepped up, giving him a small smile of gratitude.

“Thank you for helping us out. It is much appreciated.” she said.

“Of course,” he gave a nod of his head. Just as the pair of knights went to leave he spoke up again, “Romanoff, right? The one with the Princess?”

Natasha turned back to him with a look of confusion etched on her face at the reason for his question.

“That would be me,” the redhead answered. “May I ask why?”

“No reason. Just surprised you two are still together is all.”

“Excuse me?”

Lord Stark laughed lightly, “Oh don’t get me wrong it is adorable. You know, the whole childhood sweetheart thing.”

“So what seems to be the problem?” a displeased frown settled upon the knights eyebrows.

“I’m only shocked she isn’t bored of you yet with how long you’ve been together.” he chuckled, “I mean she is the Princess. Plenty of people have their eyes on her, and who’s to say she hasn’t been looking at them too?”

“What’s it to you?” Natasha snapped, “What is the point you’re trying to make here?”

She didn’t even know why she still standing there listening to him, much less engaging in the frustrating conversation.

“Relax, I was only joking. No need to get so defensive.” the noble chuckled.

“Well then I guess I failed to understand what was funny about anything you said,” Natasha said as she readjusted the bag on her shoulder, “Have a good rest of your day, Lord Stark.”

With that, the redhead brushed past the man and stormed out of the courtyard.

She didn’t know how she managed to stay talking to him for that long, but she knew if she stuck around any longer things probably wouldn’t have ended the best way for either of them.

The archer was quick to catch up to his best friend, a look of concern now sat on his face.

“Are you alright, Nat?” he asked, “The nerve of that man is insane.”

Natasha nodded, “I’ll be fine, I just needed to walk away.”

“You know nothing he said is true, right?” Clint assured, “Y/n loves you and everyone can see that. They’re blind if they don’t.”

“I know,” she said, “I just want to get back and clean up before she gets home. You should probably do the same.”

As hesitant as he was to leave his friend alone, she was right. “Okay, but I’ll see you tomorrow alright?”

Natasha agreed and said her goodbyes to the man before they went their separate ways.

When you arrived home in the evening, the knight had asked the cooks to prepare your favorite to eat. She’d gathered both of your families in the dining room to share the meal, knowing how much you enjoyed family dinners after being away.

Everything appeared to be just as you had left it. Your mother and Melina were busy with their normal chatter; your father and Alexei chiming in as well. Natasha and Yelena were engaging in their everyday sibling banter.

But despite that Natasha didn’t seem like herself.

You couldn’t exactly pinpoint what was wrong, but it was clear that something was up based on the way she’d occasionally zone out. You’d have to call her name multiple times to gain her attention again.

Even then, she was tense and had a distant look in her eyes. As if she was afraid to look at you for too long.

“Is everything okay, Nat?” you’d asked her several times throughout the night.

Each time she flashed you her usual charming smile that always made you melt, and responded with an “Of course I am, princess. Why wouldn’t I be?”

You weren’t totally convinced.

The suspicions you had were confirmed as everyone was finishing up the last of their dinner and began cleaning up. The redhead had excused herself from the table, but never returned.

About a half hour had passed when worry had finally got the best of you, and you decided to search for your girlfriend. You first looked in the places she frequented most in the castle, but every room you searched you came out empty handed.

With one last place in mind, you made your way through the halls and out the front doors of the castle.

~ ~ ~

Natasha nocked the arrow onto the string and drew it back just as Clint showed her many times before, her eyes locked in on the target set up across the training grounds.

She took a deep breath in, releasing it completely before letting the string go. The arrow slid off her fingertips as it shot through the air and past the target, missing it completely.

The knight huffed and let her arms drop down to her sides as she stared at the still untouched bullseye despite her having shot four others before that.

“I think you’re supposed to be aiming for the target, you do know that right?”

Natasha turned to see you making your way over to her. She laughed and set the bow down as she sat on the grass. You joined her, deciding that this was more important than your mother lecturing you over the dress that would inevitably become dirty.

“I guess today is just not my day,” she shrugged.

“Anything you want to talk about?” you wondered, giving her the floor to speak freely, “You weren’t exactly acting like yourself at dinner.”

Natasha should’ve known she wouldn’t be able to hide this from you. You knew her like the back of your hand, and vice versa. Nothing ever got past the other.

“I just missed you is all,” she answered, giving you a small smile for extra reassurance.

Once again, you weren’t fooled.

“I missed you too, Nat. But that doesn’t explain it since I’m home now.” you said.

The redhead went silent, chirping from the crickets hiding out in the trees filling the air instead. She had no grounds to deny your words because she knew you’d see right through her.

“So what’s actually going on? Did something happen while I was gone?”

Natasha shook her head, “It’s nothing, really. I don’t want you to worry.”

“Well it’s a little too late for that,” you lightly chuckled, “And it’s clearly something if it’s bothering you this much. Was it something I did?”

“No!” she quickly assured, “God no, you haven’t done anything wrong.”

“So then talk to me, my love. Please,” you pleaded and reached to take her hand, your thumb stroking over the back of her palm.

The knight sighed and forced herself to look straight ahead. The gentleness in your eyes made her want to tell you everything.

Every thought she’s ever had, every secret she’s ever kept, every feeling she’s ever felt. That’s just the effect you had on her.

You made everything okay.

The worries and stresses plaguing her mind just seemed to dissipate little by little until they were gone whenever she was with you.

And as much as Natasha fell in love with you because of that, she was now questioning if she even deserved to have you look at her the way you were.

“Do you ever think about what it would be like if you’d chosen someone else to be with?”

Your eyes slightly widened as your mouth opened just to shut again multiple times in disbelief.

“What?”

Out of all the things you could’ve predicted her to say, that was not one of them.

“You’ve never been with anyone before me. We became exclusive as teenagers, and you just stuck with me.” Natasha explained, and you nodded to confirm what she said was true.

“Do you not ever wonder what it’d feel like to be with someone else?”

“Nat, where is this coming from?” you asked, “Have you been thinking about that for a while, or did someone say something?”

The redhead finally looked at you, sadness evident in her gaze, “Lord Stark stopped by during training.” she said, and you had a good idea of where this was going now.

“He made us some new equipment and when I went to talk to him, he said he was surprised you were still with me. That he was shocked you hadn’t gotten bored yet.”

You had first hand experience working with the noble during council meetings for the kingdom and his ideas were beneficial, but he was also notorious for his filterless mouth.

A sigh left your lips and you squeezed her hand, “Nat, I don’t think Lord Stark has ever kept a woman around for more than a few weeks, so he’s probably familiar with people getting tired of him.” you chuckled.

Natasha cracked a smile, but it was short lived.

“You don’t think he has a point, though?”

“No, I do not.” you said. You wish you could slap Lord Stark for making her feel like this. “I’ve never wanted anyone else because I found everything I need in you.”

The redhead looked down at your connected hands, fighting the urge to fidget with your finger she hoped to soon have decorated with the ring in the bag lying next to her. She opted to interlace your fingers instead.

“I just don’t want you to feel like you have to settle for me just because I’m your first relationship.”

“Oh, Nat. Come here,” you tugged on her hand and guided the knight to lay on her side, her head resting safely in your lap. “You don’t understand how perfect you are.”

Your fingers began to run through her messily braided her, brushing back the loose strands from in front of her face. Natasha immediately relaxed under your touch.

“Perfect might be a bit of a stretch,” she murmured.

“I don’t think it is,” you disagreed, “You look out for your parents, and Yelena, and the people you love. Even people you don’t know because you’re so selfless.”

Now that you’ve started, you could probably go on for hours about all the reasons you chose Natasha Romanoff over anybody else. You probably would because it’s clear she needs to hear them in this moment.

“And you’re just as sweet with me. The way you take care of me. The way you always know what I need before I even know myself. It’s like you have a sixth sense,” you giggled and you felt the redhead chuckle against you too.

“Sometimes I wonder what I did to deserve you because to me you’re just so perfect in every way imaginable.”

That was when Natasha decided to maneuver onto her back instead, now staring straight up at you.

“There you are,” you grinned softly down at her.

“I’m sorry,” she said.

Your head tilted as your fingers continued to card through her red strands, “For what?”

“I don’t know why I was acting like that. I was being ridiculous.”

“Nat, you were not being ridiculous. You were feeling vulnerable and that’s okay. You don’t have to act like you’re fine when you’re not around me.”

“I know,” Natasha said and took your freehand to bring it up so she could press a kiss to the back of it. “I know, princess. I love you so much,”

You smiled softly at her and leaned down enough to connect your lips. It was slow and gentle, you just wanted her to know you were here and not going anywhere.

When you pulled back you didn’t go very far, your face still hovering centimeters above hers, “Hey,” you mumbled.

She opened her eyes at that to meet your gaze.

“It’s you, and it’ll only ever be you. Okay?”

Natasha softly smiled against yours lips and nodded, “Okay,”

You gave her one last peck before urging her to sit up when you began standing, “Alright, now show me how it’s really done.”

The knight stood up as well and watched you pick up her bow along with another arrow from the bag. She rose an eyebrow and crossed her arms as she looked at you amusingly.

“What are you doing?” Natasha chuckled.

You pushed the weapon into her hands before backing away, “I want to watch you practice,” you answered simply.

Natasha shook her head, “As much as I love it when you watch, I think you’d just be disappointed.”

“Come on, just try one more time, please?”

Of course, the redhead struggled to say no to your face. Natasha sighed and turned towards the target once again, correcting her stance like she’d done earlier and nocked the arrow.

Drawing back the string, she precisely aimed the arrow and exhaled a deep breath before letting go. The knight expected it to miss by a long shot like they had earlier, but was proven wrong when it landed dead center in the bullseye.

You had an innocent smile on your face when Natasha turned to look back at you, like you had known she’d hit the bullseye when you first forced the bow into her hands.

“What was that about today not being your day?” you wondered.

God, you really did make everything okay.

Natasha broke into a big grin and motioned you towards her, “Come here,” she said.

Your head tilted slightly at her request, but still made your way over to her, “What?”

She just chuckled. “I want to show you how to shoot a bow,”

The redhead was now realizing that she’d probably be needing that ring much sooner than she originally thought.

~ end ~

Authors Note PT 2: I don’t know if I like this one but here it is! Also I finally decided to give the commander a name and add in Clint bc you can’t have a Natasha series without her best friend ofc

[latenightdaydreams]

Can you please write part of roommate reader? I've hoped it could be a new series 🥺🥺 I'm obsessed with that story lol😩😩😩

yes!! ofc!! 💗

Roommates Part 2 (fem)

MDNI🔞

Part 1 Part 3

Master List (✍🏽)

>cw: fem/afab, oral, p in v, squirting, dirty talk

2.3k word count

🏠

.

.

Two weeks have passed since König moved in, since the incident happened. You still haven’t talked to him much other than an awkward “hello” here and there. König has been understanding of your behavior, but he honestly wishes you both could move past it. He was wondering if maybe he should just move out.

Today, as you walk out of your room, the aromatic smell of coffee hits you. You see, König leaning against the sink, wearing only gray sweatpants. In his hand he holds a mug of coffee and in the other his phone as he scrolled on it. His blue eyes look up and land on you. A smile forms on his lips, shoving his cell phone into his pocket.

“Guten Morgen. Would you like some coffee? It just finished brewing.” He smiles and shows off his sharp canines.

“Um, no thanks.” You say awkwardly, avoiding eye contact with him.

Trying to ignore him as you walk to the pantry and grab a box of cereal. Then you hear the cabinet open and you see König grabbing a bowl for you. He holds it out for you and you nod in thanks. As you place it all on the table, you see König opening the fridge to get you the milk.

“You don’t have to do everything for me.”

“I don’t mind.” He looks at you as he places the milk on the table and lingers for a while. “I just feel bad for making you feel uncomfortable in your own home.”

“It- you did nothing wrong. Honestly. I’m just, well, mortified.” You say as you fidget with the flap on the box of cereal.

“You don’t have to be. I understand how awkward it must be for you, but please know I don’t judge you for it. If we could just start over and pretend it never happened, I’d like that a lot.”

König looks at you, waiting to see if you’d accept his offer. His eyes drift to your breasts as you look away, trailing up along the curve of your neck and back to your eyes as you look back at him.

“I’d like that.”

A wide smile creeps across König’s lips. “I’m glad.”

That was the start of a slow developing relationship. Eating breakfast together and chatting before bed became somewhat of a ritual for the both of you. Slowly, you both opened up to each other about life goals and past challenges. Without realizing it, you both have revolved your routines around seeing one another. The last few months together have been the happiest he’s been in decades.

Today, when you got home from work, there was a different vibe in the apartment. You kicked off your shoes and placed your bag down by the door.

König’s blue eyes trail up your body, not caring to be discreet. An open beer sitting on the coffee table in front of him. You both look at each other for a moment before you walk forward to the couch and sit next to him.

“Are you okay?”

König doesn’t respond right away; he leans back into the throw pillows. “I’m getting deployed soon.” His blue eyes meet you again. Usually, he wouldn’t care, but he’s been slowly building a relationship with you and now he is being pulled away from you. You’ve felt like the home he’s wanted all of this time.

“Oh, for how long?” You try to mask the disappointment in your tone.

“Anywhere from six months to a year.”

“That’s a long time.”

“It is.” König’s eyes trail down from your eyes to your lips.

“When do you leave?”

“In three days.” He says, reaching forward for the beer and taking a swig.

Your jaw drops, looking surprised to hear how soon he will leave you. It’s his job, but right now you feel selfish because you want him to stay. You’ll miss his company, miss him.

“The apartment will feel empty without you.” The words flow from your lips with a hint of sorrow.

König forces a small smile. “I really like you.” It was time you both stopped acting like shy teenagers and just got your feelings out there for one another. “I have feelings for you.”

This isn’t recent news to you; you’ve always sort of known he likes you. The way he gazes at you, packs lunches for you, and smiles when he sees you- it’s all very obvious. You’re pretty sure he already knows that you like him, too.

“I have feelings for you, too.”

König’s eyes light up as you confess your feelings are mutual. A smirk comes across his lips. A wave of confidence comes over him as he leans towards you, his hand cupping your face as he places a tender kiss on your lips.

It’s as if sparks go off and travel throughout your whole body as your lips meet. You kiss back eagerly, your lips pressing harder into his as one of your hands moves to his thigh. The feeling of your warm hand makes him shiver.

He slowly pulls away from the kiss and looks down at you. In his mind, he is running through the different ways he can ask you for more. Ask you to wait for him to come back. Give him your body so he can have something to remember while away, other than the mental image you squirting. Months have been wasted because he doesn’t think he’s deserving of you.

You can see the look in his eyes, your hand lightly squeezes his thigh. “Talk to me. What’s on your mind?”

“I want you.” He finally says. You’ll either agree or reject him. It felt as if a lifetime passed before he felt you move your hand up his thigh more.

“I want you too.”

Words aren’t needed anymore. He grabs your waist and brings you on to his lap. His mouth pressing into yours, opening to lick your bottom lip. You accept him into your mouth as your tongues swirl together. His gigantic hands caress your body, one trailing down the curve of your hip and the other under your shirt, climbing up to your bra.

You can feel his erection press into you, small moans leaving both of your lips into each other’s mouths. His hand slips underneath your bra and cups your breast in his hand. Your skin is so warm and soft. A groan leaving his mouth as his fingers pinch your nipple.

König pulls his mouth away from yours and lifts your shirt off of your body. His lips find yours again as he tosses the shirt on the back of the couch. He reaches around your body to unhook your bra as your tongues flick over one another’s. 

He pulls back again and looks down at your glorious breasts. “Wow.” He looks at you, speechless, for a moment. His eyes meet yours as his mouth drifts to your chest. In one hand, he grips your heavy breast and brings it to his mouth. His tongue reaches out and flicks at your nipple. A small whimper leaves your lips before he wraps his lips around your nipple, latching on to it. Your fingers comb through his messy blonde hair as his mouth hungrily goes back and forth between both breasts.

His fingers fidget with the belt you're wearing, trying to pull your bottoms off of you as fast as he can. You assist him and unbutton your pants, lifting your ass so he can pull your pants off of you. Lips leaving your breasts, he lets his gaze roam over your body. He runs his fingers down your thighs. A little of prickly hair, but König couldn’t care less.

“You’re stunning.” He says, his voice lower than a whisper.

König stands with you in his arms, turning to place you on the couch. He lays you back, almost recreating when he walked in on you, masturbating. It’s all he’s been thinking about, fucking you in that position.

“It was a busy day at work.” You say bashfully, worried about your pussy maybe smelling.

“Perfect.” König says as he continues to kiss down your body.

A blush comes across your face as you look down at him kissing all over your belly, under your belly, your hips, and moving down… You let out a pleasured gasp as he kisses your pussy lips. His hands grasping your legs and spreading them apart, placing one over his arm and the other resting on the coffee table. He kisses up and down your pussy without kicking you. His eyes closed as if he was kissing a lover. Breathing in deeply and taking in your raw natural scent.

Finally, his eyes open and make eye contact with you. His fat tongue pressed down on to your pussy and swipes up quickly, parting your folds around his tongue. You taste fucking divine. He lets out a groan once your juices touch his taste buds.

Your hand reaches out to the back of his head, holding him against you. Moans flowing from your lips as he rapidly flicks his tongue over your clit. His free hand slides up your leg to your pussy. One finger circles around the entrance of your vagina. Slowly, he slips it in. His finger curved upwards as he slowly begins to move it in and out of it.

You close your eyes and drop your head back, letting your body fully appreciate the pleasure it’s receiving right now. Legs twitching as his tongue and arm moves faster. One of your hands moves to your nipple. You tug on it, catching König’s attention.

His cock is rock hard in his pants, absent-mindedly grinding his hips into the couch cushion. The moans you make match what he heard that day he walked in on you. A second finger slips in as his eyes watch you closely. Your hand moves from his head and squeezes the pillows behind your head.

“König, I’m going to cum.” Your voice is higher pitched.

“Are you going to squirt for your König?”

“Yes!” Your back arches as your body trembles. “Fuucckkk!”

König gets hit in the face by your squirting. He opens his mouth and drinks you in, finally being able to taste you. Removing his fingers from your pussy, he rubs them over your clit quickly. He shoves his face into your cunt and shakes his head back and forth.

“Fuck you’re amazing.” He growls.

His hands quickly pull down his pants. He pulls his shirt over his head to reveal his scarred body to you. Your eyes trace over his muscular but soft body as he stands and pulls down his boxes. You try to not act surprised seeing how hung he is when deep down inside you’re worried it will hurt.

König kneels on the couch in front of you, pulling your hips to him. He rubs his raw cock against your clit, getting himself covered in your cum. Since he is a big guy, this angle was a little awkward. One leg over his shoulder, the other one resting down, he lowers himself to kiss your lips.

“Beg for my pussy.” You look into his blue eyes.

König is absolutely shocked, but fuck was that hot.

“Please let me fuck your pussy.” He begs almost pathetically. Never has he been put in this position before. “Please I need to feel you.” He whispers, leaning down and kissing your neck softly. His hips rock against you, aching to thrust into you.

“Fuck me.”

König didn’t hesitate, he thrust into you. He watches your face as he does. Your face scrunches as you feel him bottom out inside of you. Shoving his 10-inch cock into you as much as you’ll take. Whimpers leave your lips and your eyes maintain contact with his.

“That’s it, Liebling. You can take me.” His voice is low and sensual. Slowly he pulls back and thrust into you again, harder this time.

“Oh my god! Please fuck me!” You’ve never felt a cock this good before, not even your toys can compare. His hips begin to slam into you.

Pathetic little mewls escape your mouth as your eyes flutter back. A cocky grin appears on his face as he sees you turn from that dominant woman to a cock hungry mess.

“You take my cock so well, meine Kleine Hure.”

Not speaking German, you’re unaware he just called you his little whore, but the tone in his voice excites you. Your eyes stay locked on his as his hips roll into you at a rapid pace. The feeling of your wet pussy wrapping tightly around him is pushing him to the edge.

“I’m going to cum Liebling…” He pants as he leans in to kiss on your neck. His cock begins to throb as he moans loudly, moaning out your name. You caress his body as he lays on you, catching his breath.

König sits up, wrapping his arms around your body to pull you up with him. Your body straddles his lap as you both kiss.

“I want you to be mine. I want to know that I have you to come home to. That your body and mind are mine.” He kisses your cheek softly, waiting for your response.

His words make you pause, you pull away to look into his eyes. You trace each scar that covers his handsome face, trying to memorize him and this moment, knowing he will be leaving soon.

“I’ll wait for you. I’m yours.”

“And I’m yours, Liebling.”

König leans in to kiss your lips again, addicted to the way you taste. Even the way your breath smells. He’s just in love with everything about you.

“What does Liebling mean?”

“Oh, it’s like calling you, my love.”

“That’s really cute.” You giggle and think back to sex. “What does Kleine Hure mean?” The German words come out pronounced terribly, but König understood.

König clears his throat and blushes, “Oh, uh-”

Part 3