Trump is threatening to destroy Iran's entire civilization TONIGHT. That's a country of 90 million people.
I know you feel powerless. You think nothing you do will make a difference. Maybe that's true, but you don't know for sure.
You have to choose to act as if it is possible for your actions and words to make a difference. There is no other moral way to live.
This is something so incredibly easy you can do if you're American. Demand that congress immediately do whatever it can to stop him from committing a genocide of the Iranian people in your name. There is no excuse not to.
Updates April 7, 2026: Trump has openly threatened to obliterate “a whole civilization” if Iran does not agree to a deal. Given these repeat
Rating: Explicit, MDNI
WC: 6,6k
Summary: Joel gets a batch of pills with strange side effects. He decides that it would be a shame to waste them. After all, he can use them to get something: you.
Tags: non-con/dub-con, Joel’s pov, smut, masturbation, manipulation, kinda love bombing, drugging, brief dry humping, unprotected p in v, nipple play, fingering, introverted reader, slightly naive reader, she's a grown ass woman but there's still non specified age gap between them, she's not described besides having hair long enough to be tied up in a bun, she's described wearing jeans and t-shirt, liar!Joel, mean!Joel, dark!Joel, he acts kindly but he has no good intentions, sex pollen vibes but slightly different, orgasm denial, praising, dirty talking, pet names, a little bit of somno, oral (f receiving), Sarah, Tess and Tommy mentioned but they’re either dead or went away, I’m sorry. I changed the dynamic and the tl a little bit, sorry, we're like 10 years into the outbreak but Tess is already gone, mention of morning-after pill.
A/N: The idea sparked reading a Reddit post and a conversation with @aurorawritestoescape helped me figuring out what I wanted to write 🤭
Thanks honey for your help and for being the best beta-reader, I couldn’t have done it without you♥️ I haven't written Qz!Joel and non-con / dub-con in a long time and I'm a little nervous to share this. He's probably not as gruff as you'd expect. He's mean though. Please be kind, I really hope you like it! English is not my first language, any mistake is still on me!
“Hey Miller!” the guard approaches him.
Joel turns and, to his surprise, finds a rifle pointed at him. Taking the usual shortcut home, a narrow back road that smells of piss and remorse, wasn’t the best idea today.
Joel clenches his jaw as he looks at the guard and then hisses, “Get this rifle out of my face.”
“Those shitty pills you sold me yesterday don’t work”.
Joel shrugs “What the hell do you mean?”
The guard slams the barrel of the rifle into his cheek. “They didn’t get me high and when I tried to fuck my woman I couldn’t cum!”
Joel turns up his nose at the unsolicited information. “It’s not the pills’ fault your dick doesn’t work”
The guard is furious, holding the rifle an inch from Joel’s nose. “My cock is good, you asshole, I know for sure it was those nasty pills. I want a refund.”
“No refunds, it’s your business,” Joel gruffs, but the guard doesn’t seem persuaded at all to let it go.
“Listen, do you want me to report you? I’m sure my boss would love to know how you sneak out of the QZ to get the fucking drugs, don’t you think?” he barks, shoving the rifle into the other man’s flesh. “What do you say, Miller, I have to put a stop to your nice black market, huh?”
Joel shifts the rifle, holding the barrel with two fingers.
“What the fuck do you want? I don't have any more pills.”
He'll break his jaw, a moment's distraction is enough to disarm him. These spineless guards don't scare him.
“I know you have more. Give them to me,” the guard orders. Joel weighs his options. He doesn't feel like breaking his knuckles and disfiguring this guy's face, and after all, he's one of his best customers. And he can't lose his cards. He needs them to get anything in this godforsaken place until he manages to slip back out into the outside world.
Joel has just returned so he should have waited at least a month to avoid drawing too much attention.
He snorts, pulling a plastic bag full of amphetamines out of his pocket - pills he would have preferred to keep for himself.
The guard catches them and threatens Joel, “Try to screw me over one more time and I’ll break your fucking bones. You can keep this crap.”
He tosses the bag of pills at Joel, spits on the ground and walks away.
Joel looks at the pills. They seem fine. The guy who sold them to him is new, he’d never done business with him before. He met him outside Bill’s house after picking up some ammo. Long, curly, graying hair, big round glasses. He looked a bit like a mad scientist, spouting big words and formulas that Joel couldn’t make heads or tails of, but at some point he mentioned Bill’s name, and Joel trusted him. Bill never talked to anyone; if he knew him, he must have some credibility. At least that’s what Joel thought, so he agreed to sell the product the guy was offering. But clearly, he was wrong.
Joel heads home, weighing the packet in the palm of his hand. He thinks back to what the guard told him—that he hadn’t been able to come all evening. He didn’t mention any other problems, so probably everything else had worked, it was just the climax that was missing. Was it some kind of edging? Joel comes to his apartment and sits in the kitchen, wondering what on earth he could do with them and whether he could make use of them in some way.
Joel pours himself a glass of whiskey and sips it while watching the sky grow dark.
What if the guard had told him a lie just to get the amphetamines? He can't stand the thought of being scammed.
So Joel takes one, swallowing it with a sip of whiskey, just to see if that idiot tried to rip him off.
He hops in the shower and goes to sleep.
After tossing and turning in bed for a couple of minutes, he starts to feel strange.
A sudden wave of heat washes over him, his blood seems to be racing through his veins, his cock stirs beneath his boxers and grows hard, without him even touching it, stimulated by nothing more than that stupid pill he swallowed earlier.
His hand slides down into his underwear, trying to jerk off, but after several minutes, all he’s managed to do is get even harder, with no happy ending.
It feels like hell, just like that dude said.
He pulls down his boxers and tries to hump the mattress, rubbing his cock against the crumpled sheet.
No matter how much effort Joel puts into it, no matter how much precum he’s dripping onto the sheets, climax never comes.
Joel is in disbelief, frustrated, and drenched in sweat, his painfully hard cock shows no sign of softening.
He stays awake almost all night, in agony, lying on the mattress and hoping that the drug’s effects will eventually wear off.
By the time dawn breaks, his cock finally begins to soften.
When Joel gets up, he still hasn’t decided what to do with the pills. He hides them under a floorboard where he keeps his contraband, gets dressed, and leaves the house. He is tired, but insomnia often haunts him and he is now used to it, even though he shouldn't be.
A full day of work in the dining hall awaits him. Ever since word got out that you could get extra ration cards by shoveling out the sewers, everyone wanted to do it. The stench didn’t matter, what mattered was the gnawing hunger that gripped everyone.
As soon as he walks into the kitchen, he sees you peeling potatoes in a corner of the long metal counter.
He says hello to you, and you reply in a whisper, barely looking him in the face.
You seem very shy, reserved, and not very talkative. Joel likes that, he has no desire to listen to anyone’s chatter.
You’re gorgeous, and Joel likes that too.
He puts on one of the aprons left on the counter and grabs a knife.
He stands next to you, starting to help you peel the huge pile of potatoes in front of you.
Your hands move quickly, the sharp knife glides effortlessly between the flesh and the skin, your gaze is focused and attentive.
Every time you drop a peeled potato into the large plastic container filled with cold water, you let out a small sigh, so faint it’s barely audible.
The more Joel looks at you, the more delightful you seem to him—your eyes, your lips curled into a slight pout, your hair tied back in a bun, the scent of vanilla filling his nostrils, likely emanating from your skin.
You look exhausted, like everyone else in the QZ, but there is something ethereal and sweet about you that captivates Joel’s gaze and slows him down at work.
The surreal silence in which you are immersed is broken by a rough, boisterous man who bursts into the kitchen introducing himself as the head cook.
Joel doesn’t even listen to what he’s saying, he nods while the man’s mouth moves, babbling about stews and soups—the only bland and utterly unappetizing dishes that have always been served in the QZ dining hall.
For the rest of the day, his eyes are all over you. Kitchen isn’t so bad after all, if it means he can spend his time looking at someone as pretty as you.
He doesn’t care about other people working around him, the heat from the stoves that’s making his face flush, the smell of onions and meat that’s soaking into his shirt, or the rough-mannered man barking orders at everyone. As he’s standing next to you, as you stir the giant pot of soup with a ladle, a thought grows stronger in his mind.
________________________
Joel needs to be careful. He has to earn your trust first, and to do that, he starts showing up in the kitchen more and more often, peeling potatoes, doing the dishes, serving food. Anything to be near you. He greets you as soon as he walks in, when he finds you already there working, and throws a few jokes to which you sometimes answer shyly and other times simply giggle so softly that your laughter sounds like a symphony in his ears.
Day after day, watching you work with your head down as if you were afraid to look people in the eye, so inexperienced and vulnerable, he feels increasingly compelled to win you over.
He starts with simple questions that seem innocent, like how you ended up in the QZ, if you have any living relatives, if you live with anyone. You reply that you ended up there when you were just turned 19, and this explains to Joel your vulnerability and fragility—you didn’t have much experience of the world before, and in this one you realized it’s much better for someone like you not to draw attention.
Abuse by the guards is a daily occurrence, the fireflies are portrayed by the government as subversives and criminals, people are desperate and hungry, and on every street corner you can be robbed of the few ration cards you managed to scrape together—or worse. Much worse.
Your parents died on the day of the outbreak in a car accident while you were trying to escape, you and your brother managed to reach the QZ before he became seriously ill and died due to the lack of medicine and medical care available.
You were left alone in the world, moving like a ghost through the dirty, foul-smelling streets, trying to survive as best you could in a bare, dilapidated apartment that had been assigned to you.
Living there alone was tough, you missed your relatives and had no one who could help. But you grew accustomed to the silence broken only by alarm sirens and the screams of people in the streets.
You're a rare find, and Joel knows it.
He pretends to be genuinely sorry about your loss, praises your strength, and showers you with compliments that seem to make you melt a little more with every passing minute.
You probably haven’t really spoken in depth to anyone in years, and Joel is the first person who’s taken an interest in you in this hell.
It’s easy. He acts like a perfect gentleman, taking the heavy lifting off your hands, helping you get a few extra cards from the gruff head cook, and offering to walk you home after work to keep you safe.
“QZ sucks, I’m glad to help a friend any way I can,” he says and your face brightens so delightfully.
Every now and then he touches you, making it seem casual, a hand brushing against your hip as he passes behind you to pick up a potato peeler, your fingers casually touching as you talk, walking side by side in the street. Just a hint, but it shakes you every time. Joel is amused to see you unconsciously trembling as your lower lip disappears behind your teeth.
Day after day, he notices how you open up to him, how your smile spreads across your face when you see him, how you start the conversation yourself to find out more about him.
One morning, while peeling yet another sack of potatoes, you even venture a joke about how incompetent the head cook is.
Joel smiles smugly, watching your every reaction, metaphorically rubbing his hands together at each of your genuine attempts to get closer to him.
You're so grateful for everything he does, so amazed that he goes out of his way to protect you.
One afternoon, as he’s walking you home, he suggests you go to his place.
Just to chat, he says.
“I’ve got CDs, some tea, and I managed to snag some chocolate I found in the pantry. We could eat it together.”
“I haven't eaten chocolate since... all this started,” you say shyly, your sad eyes dropping, and Joel can't help but notice once again just how attractive you are, without even realizing it.
“Well, you work so hard, you deserve it,” he says, winking at you, and when you reply with a smile, he knows he's got you wrapped around his finger.
“Okay, thanks. I'll come by someday after work.”
When he gets home and steps into the shower, thinking about your breasts nestled in your worn-out T-shirt—which barely manages to hide your bra—about the beads of sweat he sees trickling down between them as you sweat over the stove, how they glisten on your skin, and the delicious scent you give off despite everything, his cock stirs and demands attention.
He can’t wait to have you all to himself, to feel just how tight your inexperienced pussy is, to see how wet he can make you and how you will moan beneath him as he thrusts deep inside you, your completely naked body a toy he can use for his pleasure.
Before Joel can stop himself, his cock is already in his hand, he’s jerking off hard, until he comes against the chipped tiles of his shower.
He has to make his move on you as soon as possible, he won't be able to hold out much longer.
He collapses onto the bed, exhausted, with your smile and your innocent eyes burned into his mind, and falls asleep only after coming one more time, soiling his pajamas and the sheet, losing consciousness covered in his own semen.
He doesn’t even care to acknowledge just how depraved he’s become, now that life has stripped him of the last shred of humanity he had left. He must have you, whatever the cost.
Sarah, then Tommy, then Tess. Everyone he cared about was either dead or miles and miles away from him.
He tried to protect them and he failed, every single time.
He tried to be good but life kicked his ass so hard he thought about ending it all.
He's cried enough, he's suffered enough, there are no more tears left to shed.
He’s alone in this filthy world, thoughts screaming in his head, pounding against his temples. They can be dulled with alcohol, sometimes with pills, but the only thing that guaranteed him a full night’s sleep lately was you.
Planning how to play with you is the only thing that stops him from thinking about what he’s lost, what he’s become, and how doomed his fate is.
_____________________
“Are you tired?” he asks you as you two are leaving the dining hall.
“Not much. I slept well last night.”
“Good,” he smiles softly.
As you’re walking, a man approaches you.
He’s dirty, smelly, visibly drunk, his greasy, matted hair hangs around his face.
“Hey, sweetheart, how about giving me some of your honey? Hmm?” he mumbles, his saliva flying in all directions, his arms stretched dangerously forward, reaching out to touch you. He gropes your breast and tries to pull you closer, almost touching your ass.
You pull back, instinctively clinging to Joel’s arm.
At this moment Joel can’t believe his luck, it’s the perfect opportunity to prove you can trust him.
“Get the hell out of here!” Joel growls at the man. “You better stay away!” He backs up the threat with a hard shove that sends the man staggering.
The guy raises his hands in surrender. “Hey, calm down, man. I didn't know she was your wife.”
He walks away, muttering to himself.
When Joel turns to you, your eyes are filled with gratitude, as if he was a knight in shining armor who came to save your life.
“Thanks,” you whisper, and Joel shrugs. “No problem, we’re friends, aren't we?”
You nod, struggling to hold back the wide smile spreading across your face. Your eyes sparkle, your arms are still wrapped around his, your tits pressing against his shirt.
He’s been so smooth with you that by now you’re hanging on his every word.
“Want to come over to my place and try some of that chocolate?”
You agree enthusiastically.
The rest of the walk to his house is fairly quiet. The sun is setting, the streets are slowly emptying, and the soldiers on patrol are urging everyone to go home before curfew.
When you arrive in his apartment, Joel invites you to sit on the couch.
“I'll be right back,” he smiles at you. “I'll make you a cup of tea.”
He goes into the kitchen, grabs an old kettle from the pantry and a few tea bags he picked up at Bill’s house.
Once he’s filled your cup, he dissolves one of the pills he’s been saving in the drink.
_____________________
While you’re drinking tea, he lets you pick the music, flipping through the CDs he’s collected over the years. “I don’t know,” you say, “I’m not really a music expert.” You laugh nervously as you read the names on the spines.
“Okay, let me see... this is perfect.”
He pops it into the dusty CD player, and trip-hop fills the thick air of the room.
“Oh, I know this song.” A smile lingers on your lips as you sit down on Joel’s couch reaching for your cup of tea on the coffee table.
“Yeah? You like it?” Joel is methodically lurking you in, trying to ease your nerves. He can see the tension in your shoulders melt away and your whole body relax.
Just what he always wanted.
“Yeah, I do.”
"I can lend you this CD whenever you want. Massive Attack is a great band,” Joel suggests, sitting down on the couch next to you.
“Unfortunately…,” you look at the mug in your hands, “I don't have anything to listen to it on. Actually, I don't know how long it's been since I listened to music, to be honest.”
“Oh, sweetie, I’m sorry,” he touches your arm lightly. “Well, then... you can come over here whenever you want to listen to it.”
And once again, you give him that look. Grateful, almost moved by his thoughtfulness toward you.
“Thanks, Joel, you're the first real friend I've made here.” You smile and he’s quick to respond, “no problem, dear, it’s my pleasure. You should drink up, it’ll get cold.”
You take a long sip, finish the cup, and set it back down on the table in front of you.
Joel waits. He lets you talk, asking you more about your past life, your education, and what career you wanted to pursue, as well as what you liked to do in your free time.
You don’t seem to notice the time passing as you’re talking. You’re spellbound, completely captivated by him—so much so that your hands brush against his forearm more than once as you tell him about your dreams and hopes.
Dreams and hopes that no longer exist.
When Joel tries to kiss you, you pull back for a moment, confused.
“Are you sure? Me?”
And that’s when he pulls out his final move, confessing that he’s always liked you and was just hoping for you to like him back. He tells you he was afraid of ruining your friendship, but at the same time, you’re so beautiful and sweet that he couldn’t help himself.
And you believe him. You fall right into his trap.
You’re the one who kisses him first right after, your hand sliding behind his neck, your fingers playing with his curls.
He reciprocates with a sense of victory spreading in his chest, feeling your body melt for him, all pliant and needy, like he was the man of your dreams.
“Oh baby, you don't know what you're doing to me,” Joel whispers as he moves down your neck, planting little kisses on your soft skin.
And you moan, timidly, as if you can’t believe it.
“Can I keep going?” he asks, looking into your hazy eyes.
“Yes, please.”
“Come here,” he invites you, taking your hands and pulling you to straddle him.
He grabs your hips, pushing you against him, kissing you again, patiently, delicately, without forcing you.
You start to move your hips, likely driven more by drugs than by your own reasoning.
Your clothed pussy brushes against his bulge and you gasps, surprise all over your face.
“It’s so good…,” you whisper and Joel strokes your cheek, so gently.
“I know, baby. Take more…”
He adjusts his position on the couch so that you get more friction. You nod, rolling your hips again, your arms around his neck, Joel’s hands holding you tightly while you’re seeking your pleasure, grinding against him, the seam of your jeans stroking your clit just right.
You're so beautiful like this, completely captivated by him and by your newly awakened desire.
Mouth agape, your body hot, hitting the tent beneath his jeans over and over again until you squeeze your eyes in pleasure so hard Joel thinks you’re about to burst.
But you can’t. You’re on the edge and can't break through it.
Your eyes flutter open, uncertain and burning, and Joel hurries to reassure you. “It's okay, honey. Do you want to go to bed? We'll be more comfortable there.”
You follow him without hesitation.
Joel undresses you, crouches to take off your shoes, lets your clothes fall to the floor—careful, gentle, slow, as if it were truly an important moment for him.
And it is, but not in the way you think.
“I’ve never seen anything so beautiful,” Joel whispers to you, his husky, seductive voice runs into your ears and down your spine, your nipples hardening instantly as he drinks in your figure, his eyes gliding over your curves, your breasts, down your hips, until they reach between your legs.
Your tight, delicious pussy throbs for him, and the urge to fuck you hard until he can’t catch his breath hits him like a bolt of lightning.
But no, he has to be careful, you mustn’t notice, you mustn’t know how badly he wants to break your will forever.
He takes your hand, helping you lie down on his bed, and undresses in front of you. He sees longing in your eyes, your desire growing as he reveals every part of his body to you. Your body writhes on the mattress, eager, impatient. “Please, Joel,” your voice pleads, nervously, as if all you feel right now is pure want.
Your mouth twitches as his semi hard cock finally springs free, a loud gasp roaring in the back of your throat.
Joel struggles to hold back a smirk as he lies down next to you, impossibly close but not yet towering over you.
His hand cups one of your breasts, testing its softness and weight, feeling your nipple press against his palm.
You arch your back as if struck by an electric shock, moaning loudly under his touch.
“I’ll go slow, baby,” he promises you.
But you don’t want him to go slow. He can see it in your eyes, in your desperately tense muscles, in your lower lip trembling like a leaf in the wind.
“I...” you try to say, but his fingers twist your nipple and all you can do is let out another helpless moan.
Oh, the drug is working so fine.
“What, sweetie? Use your words, I know you can,” he coos, gently caressing you, his fingers sliding down the valley between your breasts.
“I... I never do things like this. I don't know what's happening to me. I... I need you, Joel, so badly.” Your voice is almost a sob, hoarse and broken.
He reassures you. Of course.
“There's nothing wrong with you, sweetheart.” he says as his hand moves up to your face, cupping your cheek, his thumb tracing the line of your cheekbone. “That’s completely normal, you know.”
“It burns under my skin, it’s so heavy and hot it actually hurts…oh my God, Joel, please, help me!” Your voice is a cry, your eyes are filled with tears, your pupils dilated, you seem to be in turmoil just from a little touch.
Joel stops himself from breaking into yet another wicked grin while his fingers wander over your jaw, down to your neck, whispering, “I’m going to make you feel better, honey.”
Joel kisses you, and the moment your lips meet his, you cling to him as if he were your only salvation, your arms wrapped around his shoulders as tightly as you can pull him toward you with an urgency that makes Joel’s chest swell with pride.
Your tongue immediately seeks his, swirling and chasing his taste and his touch.
You moan into his mouth so eagerly Joel thinks you're about to lose your goddamn mind.
It’s carnal, messy, sloppy and it makes his head spin a little.
He moves on top of you, his hands sliding over your torso and hips, gripping you there, holding you steady as you tremble beneath him and your body arches to seek friction.
Pulling away from his lips, you start begging him again—to touch you, to kiss you, to lick you...again and again.
Joel doesn’t even know how certain things are coming out of your mouth, but he doesn’t need to be told twice. You’re making him rock hard. His lips trail down your neck, pausing at your breasts, eliciting goosebumps all over your skin. He sticks out his tongue and gently licks one of your nipples. To his great surprise, you push it into his mouth so hard that he almost bites you.
“Fuck, honey, I could’ve hurt you,” he warns you but you're as wild as an animal right now, and you cry out, “Bite me, Joel, suck it, please, I need it!”
And he does.
His lips close around your nipple, his teeth gently tug at it before he begins to suck greedily.
Your body trembles, covered in sweat, naked and vulnerable beneath his weight. Joel almost struggles to keep his composure at the stubborn way you demand to be used.
How lucky he was to have discovered that drug—he must remember to thank and give that guard a discount for this revelation.
Your skin is hot, it smells wonderfully, it feels so good under his palms, so soft as he plays with your nipple, making it hard and swell.
“Fuck, you’re so damn sweet,” Joel grumbles against your skin and all you can do is whimper.
His fingers trace a path down your thigh, brushing against it, moving upward toward your center.
He locks eyes with yours—adoring, desperate, pleading,
“May I?” He asks and lingers with just his fingertips on your mound, waiting for your all-too-obvious answer.
“Yes. Please.”
That’s all he needs.
His fingers descend to meet the mess between your legs.
It’s hot, wet, completely enveloping his fingers as he sinks them between your lips, up and down along your slit.
You writhe like a woman in heat at the sensation, your hips bucking, one hand clenching his forearm while the other clutches the sheet.
“Yes! ohmygod just like that!” You cry and it sounds like honey in his ears.
He moves up toward your clit, tracing circles slowly, applying pressure now and then, using your sweet juices as lubrication. It’s swollen and throbbing beneath his fingers, deliciously stiff and demanding attention.
His mouth focuses on your other breast, nipping at the soft skin there, his tongue swirling around your nipple.
“I need more..,” you breathe and he looks into your eyes, searching for a confirmation as he prods, “do you want my fingers, hun?”
You eagerly nod, mouthing a yes, your voice broken and trapped in the back of your throat.
“I’m gonna give you that,” he smiles, as softly as he can because he needs you to think he’s doing it all exclusively for you. He's just fulfilling your wishes.
He lingers on your slit with two fingers, while his thumb keeps working on your clit.
You take his wrist and press his fingers against your opening.
Joel chuckles, feigning surprise. “Easy, baby.”
“It feels so empty, please…I need…”
He doesn't let you finish your sentence, he slips a finger inside and feels your pussy clamp down on it like a vice, before it adjusts to his intrusion and lets him thrust deep inside you. “That's it, good girl...”
He curves the tip of his finger toward your sensitive spot, testing it, pressing there briefly before asking, “think you could take another one?”
Your “please” is barely audible but the grimace of need painted all over your mouth is eloquent enough for him to add his ring finger.
The more he pushes you, the more you beg for it, crying, without realizing there’s no way for you to cross that line.
And Joel relishes it. He relishes seeing you desperate, he relishes hearing your voice break, he relishes watching you strive for that pleasure with all your might while knowing it will never come—and that, at the same time, you’ll never stop asking for it.
“I can't... I can't, Joel,” and he knows exactly what you mean.
He caresses your sweaty face, trying to make his voice as sweet as he can, whispering, “Hey, it's okay, it's all okay, baby.”
You close your eyes, letting out a frustrated moan, and look at him as if asking for help. “No, you… you’re so… God… and I can’t…”
“You’re perfect. You’re perfect, sweetheart, you’ll make it.”
You’re convinced it’s your fault that you can’t come, you can’t even look at him anymore, your gaze drifts to the ceiling, to the bare walls, anywhere but Joel’s face.
He takes your chin between two fingers and draws your gaze back to him.
“Hey, look at me, baby.”
Your pout speaks volumes: discomfort and mortification.
“Maybe it’s me…” he says, working his fingers gently inside your pussy, “maybe I’m not filling you up enough like this… do you want to try with my cock?”
“Yes, please, yes... I... can't”
“Shhhh, it's okay, baby, don't worry, I'll take care of it,” he lies.
Joel pulls his fingers out of your pussy and bites his lip at your protests, he’d burst out laughing if he could. They’re soaking wet with your juices. He uses them to lubricate his cock, mixing your essence with his precum in a few lewd, squelching strokes, before lining up with your opening.
Your eyes are fixed on his cock as you exhale, “God, it’s huge”
Warm tears stream down your cheeks, trailing across your face and glistening on your skin.
“Yeah, baby, I know. It will take some time,” he tells you through this, “you know?”
You shake your head, your hands clinging to his back as you press him against you, “I can’t wait…fill me, Joel, fill me now.”
“Are you sure?”
Holding back this much isn't easy for him either. He just wants to shove his cock into your tight little pussy, ruin your hole, pump his cum inside you, but he doesn't want you to notice. He doesn't want you to think it's his fault or that he's taking advantage of you.
So he plays innocent, praising you,
“You're so good, honey, so good to me. I love that you want me so much, but I need to be careful. I can’t risk hurting this perfect pussy, babe, I want to keep sinking into her for a long, long time, yeah? And to do that, I need her to be okay.”
You give in, a faint, pleased smile playing on your lips as you agree, sobbing, “okay”
He pushes the tip inside—just the tip—while trying with all his might not to come right there, and at that moment, your pussy tightens around him, sucking him in, dripping more juices down his shaft.
“Fuck, you're so tight,” he murmurs, and you look at him with hopeful eyes, hazy with tears, so sweet that for a moment he almost feels bad about what he's doing. But he can't tell you the truth. Not yet.
The deeper he thrusts into you, the more his cock throbs against your walls, its length stretching you out, inch by inch, your body tenses and relaxes, your hips writhe, and your breath grows shorter. And yet, you’re still teetering on the edge, in that limbo he’s put you in, unable to say “enough” and with no hope for a climax.
When he reaches the bottom, your face is distraught, your lips swollen from all the biting you’ve been doing, your body twitching with lust and craving.
And that’s when Joel feels you’re about to break completely, just babbling “please” and “need you to move” and his name like a chant over and over again.
“Damn, baby, m’not gonna last if you keep doin’ this.”
“Just… fuck me, Joel. Fuck me hard.”
And with that, he starts to move, well aware it won’t change a single thing for you.
His cock is sliding in and out of you, pounding harder as you adjust more around him. You’re so wet it’s a fucking river between your legs at this point and he’s able to feel every single flutter of your cunt, sucking him in like you’d like to swallow him whole.
Your hard nipples brush against his chest with every thrust and you whine, you whine so incessantly Joel thinks it’s almost too much. He loves it though, the way you never stop asking for him to split you open.
Two of his fingers move back to your clit, circling and applying pressure over your swollen bundle of nerves.
“Fuck,” he growls. “it’s been a million year since I had a pussy this good, honey. I swear you’re fucking incredible.”
You’re convulsing underneath him, incoherently, sweat drenching your hair, glistening on your eyebrows, running down your neck where his tongue savors it, salt, vanilla and the inherently unique taste of you dancing on his tastebud.
He’s near, he can feel it in his every fiber, his chest burning, his back tensing, his cock pulsing.
His load paints you a few thrusts later, filling your warm wet cunt, sticking to your walls like you asked him to.
Joel collapses down next to you on the bed to catch his breath and hears you moaning softly, now so desperately confused about what’s wrong with you.
He props himself up, resting his cheek on one hand, the other stroking your belly up and down, trying to comfort you.
“You make me feel so good, Joel. No one has ever made me feel this way, but I...”
“Can't you cum?”
Your eyes fixate on a crease in the sheet, your hand trying to smooth it out as a coping mechanism, as if fixing that could fix you.
“I just don't get it...” you say, feeling down, while his hand plays with a strand of your hair.
“You’ve done this before, right?”
“Yeah, a couple of times, with my high school boyfriend, before it all went downhill…he was nothing like you but he made me… you know”
“No need to be worried, babe. We can try again tomorrow,” he suggests “Maybe we should get some sleep.”
“Do you still want me?” you ask hesitantly, meeting his eyes again.
“Of course, I want you, baby.”
Your eyes glisten with tears, and your hand unconsciously clings to his wrist. “Oh, Joel, I'm broken,” you whisper, as if you can't believe it.
“You're not broken, sweetheart. You'll see that you can do it, and I'll help you.”
He takes you in his arms, stroking your back, comforting you, hiding a sly smile as he kisses your forehead. “Sleep, honey, I'm here.”
He can feel your pussy throbbing against his leg, dripping with his cum and your unrelenting arousal, your whole body is still tense and shaken by that limit you’ve never managed to break through.
Finally, you fall asleep, exhausted.
__________________
The next morning, you wake up with Joel’s face pressed against your pussy, his broad shoulders holding your legs apart, his large hands clinging to your thighs.
During the night he thought long and hard, as he struggled to fall asleep, lulled by your breathing finally returning to normal. He looked at your face, finally relaxed, and thought that maybe it was better to make you come once. To give you a little treat before making you swallow another pill.
Wake you up with an orgasm, make you believe you were just nervous, let you reach the peak as you desired, and then deny it to you again without your knowledge.
It could work.
So at the first light of dawn, he moves between your thighs, his legs dangling off the mattress as he looks at your sweet pussy.
It’s still wet, irresistibly swollen, and worn out from the sex the night before.
He starts slowly, using just the tip of his tongue, testing your sensitivity. You stir in your sleep, letting out a moan, a small smile on your lips.
He tries a longer lick and you seem to take it well, so he picks up the pace, tasting you on his tongue, drinking from you greedily, your juices beginning to drip down onto his lips, chin, and beard.
There’s nothing better than going about his day with your taste and scent on him.
When his nose brushes against your clit, you open your eyes.
He looks up at you, smiling, “Good morning, sweetheart.”
Your expression quickly shifts from surprise to delight.
“Is this okay?”
“Yes,” you reply, running a hand through his dark curls, your eyes fixed on his mouth, wet with you.
You’re not annoyed that he’s started touching you while you sleep, quite the opposite. You seem relieved.
The fear of being rejected by him probably overshadows everything else, and that’s exactly what Joel wants.
Bringing you to orgasm this time is very easy, as soon as he closes his lips around your clit and sucks it, your body tenses, your legs wrap around his head, and you moan.
“Oh my God, Joel, I’m so close.”
“Yeah, baby,” he murmurs against your skin, sending shivers down your spine. “Come for me”
And you do. After a few laps he closes his lips on your clit and that's when you explode, wetting his chin, his neck and the sheets beneath you.
The room is filled with your moans, you convulse on the bed, pressing your hips against his face, your hands clenching the sheets, your head back on the pillow and your eyes squeezed shut.
Joel licks eagerly, feeling your pussy clamp around nothing, his fingers dig into the tender flesh of your ass as he holds you in place for him.
“I knew you could do it, you did so good for me, baby,” he whispers, resting his cheek on your thigh.
You two stay in bed a little longer before heading to the kitchen, where Joel offers you a cup of coffee. “Don’t worry about yesterday, I have plenty of pills I can give you.”
You nod, smiling gently, probably thinking about how much he cares and worries about you.
“Thanks, Joel.”
“No problem, sweetie, I’ll get them for you right away.”
He reaches into his stash, pulling out a morning-after pill that he usually sells.
“I’ll give you another one tonight. That’s how this pill works,” he lies. “Go take a shower while I make breakfast, okay?”
You thank him again as you head to the modest bathroom, closing the door behind you.
Joel smirks, putting the morning-after pills back in their place and counting his supply of orgasm-blockers.
A full bag, at least a month’s worth of sex. Just enough to turn you into what he wants. His little pet.
Part one & Part two of my Dark!Doctor Robby x Reader series
Summary: Your agreement with Robby comes to a head when the two of you run into each other while you're out on the town.
Warnings: AU, Dark!Robby, free use, CNC(?), dubcon, possessive Robby, unp-protected PiV, rough sex, spanking, dirty talk, heavy degradation, reader gets called a lot of names (sorry lol), daddy kink, female oral receiving, dacryphilia, cream-pie, manhandling, some voyeurism, public make out session w/ another dude, humiliation kink, power dynamics, Robby POV for a little, stalking(ish), alcohol use, toxic & irresponsible behavior by both Robby and reader.
Word Count: A little above 8k.
Author's Note: the final part of my Study Session series. I'm sorry it took so long for me to finish. It went through many drafts! I wasn't sure where I wanted these two to go. It was hard to picture their ending and if they continue this cycle of behavior or break free from it. I hope it all enjoy it! Please let me know what you think! I have mentioned many different songs throughout this fic and I hope you look them up to see how they are incorporated into the story. Thank you to those that have stuck around and waited patiently for it!
My next fic will either be a Joel Miller fic or a Leon Kennedy fic :3
The shot of gin going down your throat burns in the most delicious way. You squeeze your eyes shut while it finishes trickling down the back of your mouth. You slam the shot glass down, while wiping your mouth with the side of your hand.
The dive bar you were at was blaring "Only" by Nine Inches Nails over the cheap dusty speakers mounted on the walls.
You chuckled a little at how fitting the song was to your current situation. It's almost as if whoever played it was mocking you.
You slide the shot glass across the bar so the bartender knew you wanted another one. You've had two shots already, but you were looking to get completely annihilated.
You see your phone light up next to you and your eyes flick over at the text from your friend.
"On my way! Sorry, got stuck having to finish some things at work."
You were meeting you friend Amanda for dinner and drinks, then to the local goth club. It was your favorite spot in the city to go for a night out. Both of you were excited to let loose, as you had just completed your rotation in the ER.
You couldn't believe it when Dana handed you your evaluation from Robby. He wasn't there, as he had gone on a month long sabbatical two weeks prior to your rotation being done. He hadn't even bothered to say goodbye to you.
Since the two of fucked in the supply closet over two months ago, things had got even worse somehow between the two of you. He had once again went back to treating you like you were nothing to him. As if you were just dirt under his shoe. This little "agreement" you had with each other was starting to become something you weren't sure you wanted anymore. And yet you still didn't say anything. Just continued to be numb and act like it wasn't eating away at you from the inside out.
However, dispite all of this, he did pass you. Barely. He tore into you about how "slow" you were at procedures and how you still could improve upon many things. But he did pass you.
A week and a half from now you were starting your psychiatric rotation and you couldn't be more excited. You would still see your friends in the ER whenever a psych consult was needed and your schedule wasn't all over the place like it was in the ER.
"Another round? Might want to take it slow sweetie." Deb, the bartender, interrupted your train of thought. She pretended to chide at you as she poured you another round of the cheapest gin on the shelf. As she set the shot in front of you she took a long drag off her American spirit cigarette. She eyed you up and down, blowing a plume of smoke up into the yellowing ceiling.
"What's wrong hun? Never seen ya this down before."
You shrugged your shoulders, and grabbed the shot glass. Slowly twirling it around with your fingers, staring straight into the clear alcohol.
"I've been having a rough time at work. My boss is....well he's a fucking dick. He gave me a really shitty evaluation but somehow I'm on to my next rotation. So fuck him I guess." You responded with a discouraged tone.
Deb nodded, she knew you well enough. You had been coming to this place for a few years now.
"Men are all fuckin dicks babe, don't let that fucker get ya down. He's lucky to have had such a smart and beautiful woman on his team. I bet he's just mad you're leaving." She encouraged, her cigarette dangling at the edge of her mouth, somehow not falling out.
"Thanks Debbie" you laughed.
You hear the door open and you turn to see who it is. Your friend Amanda waves, and makes her way over to you. You turn towards Deb. "Can I get a shot for her? Make it tequila though please." Deb nods and smiles, going to grab a second shot glass.
Amanda sits down on the bar stool next to you. She looks gorgeous as per usual, and must have changed in the car. She was decked out in a tight, lowcut black dress, with a belt that had several chains dangling from it. She was wearing some torn nylons with some knee high boots. You loved how she always dressed for the occasion, and always showed up when you needed her.
"You look great!!" You exclaim and go to give her a hug. She smiled and gave you a tight squeeze back.
"You know me, always gotta dress for whatever the vibe is." She said. She broke off the hug and leaned back to check out the dress you wore.
"Woahhhh very sexy. You tryna get laid tonight?" She teased.
You blushed. "Maybe, who's to say?" You responded cheekily. You were wearing a low cut black slip dress, with a sheer black dress on top of it. The "sheer" dress was covered in velvet looking branches with thorns on them. You also wore a belt with some chains. You were wearing thigh high nylons that were attached to a garter belt. To complete the look you donned your classic black Doc Martens. Heels were never really your style.
Deb slides the tequila shot over to Amanda, and you brought your still untouched shot over to clink it with hers.
"Ready to start our night?" You questioned.
Amanda grinned from ear to ear, clinking your glass back. "Let's fucking go!!"
***********
The two of you made your way over to a nice sushi restaurant that was only a short 10 minute Uber ride from the dive bar. The two of you caught up and she told you the latest work gossip.
The sushi restaurant was split into two parts. One part was a larger bar area, and the other was a more standard dining section. The two of you decided to sit at the bar. You order your favorite drink, a pear sake. The two of you debate on whether to get some rolls to split or just one big entreé. It's hard to decide, as everything here is always so incredibly well made.
You decide to get two rolls and excuse yourself to go to the bathroom. You have to walk through the dining area to get to the set of restrooms on the far wall. You make your way through the tables, weaving in and out trying not to get in the way of the busy waiters rushing by.
As you're about to make it to the women's room, you hear a familiar voice. It makes you stop in your tracks. You whip your head around to the right and your heart skips a beat. It's Robby. And he's with another woman.
"I thought he was gone for another two weeks?" You mumble aloud.
"Excuse me?"
You're standing directly beside a table with an elderly couple who look very confused about you standing slack jawed next to them.
You mutter an apology and walk away, finally making it into the bathroom.
Thankfully there's only a few stalls and none seem occupied. You slam the stall door shut and exhale a deep breath as you sit down. What the fuck was Robby doing here?
You finish up and go wash your hands. As you lather the soap on you contemplate going over and saying something. But why even say anything at all? Your excuse would be that you wanted to thank him for passing you.
But you scold yourself internally for even wanting to go over there. Why did it even matter at this point? He was obviously done with you now. Why make a big deal out of it?
You rinse your hands under the now scalding hot water, the steam rising from the sink.
You dry your hands and stare at yourself in the mirror, glaring at your own reflection for even considering going to say hello to him. You knew deep down you just wanted the attention from him. You wanted to feel his eyes tracking down your body. You knew he would, especially with the outfit you were wearing.
But then again, you should make it known that you saw him and that he's been "caught" seeing other people. He chastised you so much about flirting with Abbott. Plus he's humiliated you countless times. Why not give him a taste of his own medicine?
You give yourself a firm nod in the mirror. You were making your presence known. You flip open your small purse and dig out your lipstick. It was a deep, almost maroon color. It complimented your skin tone perfectly.
You fix your hair and smooth out your dress, you were hoping to make a lasting impression on whoever the woman was that he was with.
You head out of the bathroom and straight to the table. Your heart pounding, your hands a little shaky. You didn't typically confront people like this.
You make your way to the table, trying your best to fake confidence. When you're about 10 feet away, Robbys eyes connect with yours. He was in the middle of a sentence but lost track after spotting you. His mouth hangs open a little. You give him a coy little wave with your fingers. "Hey Doctor Robby!" you say as you finally stop at the table. You don't even glance at the woman he's with.
"I saw you when I was on my way back to the bar! I wanted to thank you for my evaluation." You fake a smile, continuing to ignore the other woman.
Robby remains looking up at you in disbelief. He finally clears his throat. "What...what are you doing here?" He questions, his voice has an uncertain tone to it. He wants to berate you in front of everyone but is trying to stay calm.
"Oh I'm celebrating ending my rotation with a friend! We're going out to a club after this." You smile confidently. Oh he was pissed. You could tell just from his eyes.
"I see." Is all he can say. You glance down at his lap where his hand is tightened into a fist.
The woman at the table clears her throat, trying to get Robbys attention so he'll introduce her.
Robby flicks his eyes over to her. He gestures towards her with his other hand.
"This is Elaine." He muttered, his voice just above a whisper.
You finally turn and look at Elaine. Your heart sinks. She's incredibly stunning.
She was in her mid 40's but you could barely even tell. She had beautiful blonde wavy hair. Blue eyes. Her lips are painted a deep red to go with her dainty looking nails. She wore a long dark green silk dress. She looked like a perfect porcelain doll compared to what you were wearing.
Despite this, you go to shake her hand, hoping she wouldn't notice the chipping black polish on your own nails or the cheap jewelry you had on.
"Nice to meet you Elaine"
She smiles, and give you a firm handshake back.
"Same goes to you dear. Always nice to see one of Robbys students in the flesh." She lets go of your hand and picks up her drink. Eyeing you up and down, but not in a judgemental way like you were expecting.
You unconsciously bite your lip and turn your head back to Robby.
"Well, sorry to bother you. I'll see you soon Doctor Robby."
"Oh I'm counting on it." He says, with an edge to his voice that made your heart drop in your chest. You know he means it.
You turn and walk away, not even bothering to say goodbye to Elaine. She was nice to you even though you were so obviously looking for any type of attention from her date.
"God I'm so fucking embarrassing. Get a grip." You mumble to yourself while you have an internal walk of shame back to your seat.
"Damn dude, took you long enough." teases Amanda when you slide back on to your chair.
She takes a glance at you and notices something is off.
"Hey, you ok girlie?" She puts a hand on your arm. A look of concern clouds her face.
You shrug your shoulders. "Yeah, I guess. Saw someone I wasn't expecting to see and it didn't go great. But fuck it, who cares!" You try to laugh it off. You grab your drink and finish it off. "I'm excited to go and dance after this!"
You know Amanda can tell from a mile away you're bothered by the interaction you just had but very kindly doesn't say anything. The two of you continue to gossip while you eat your meal. While you're talking, you slowly start to forget about your conversation with Robby. Enjoying the food, drinks, and company of your friend. He leaves your mind entirely by the time the two of you leave for the club. Laughing and walking just a few blocks to stand in the line to get in.
You and your friend fail to notice Robby following the two of you. He didn't forget your conversation.
****************
After their meal He walks his date to his car and tells her he isn't feeling the greatest, and that he'll have to take a raincheck on the rest of their evening. It's easy to blame the sushi for a stomachache. She accepts his excuse and tells him "not to be a stranger" before they kiss and she gets into her car.
He watches her drive down the street. His blood is pumping. His mind is buzzing. He wasn't expecting to see you. Something about you just drives him to a place within himself he doesn't like to acknowledge. The primal urge to claim you is overwhelming. He's never experienced a feeling like that before in his life. He's not sure what it is, exactly.
Maybe it's the way you always crave his approval. The way your body reacts after he gives you the tiniest of compliments. The way your eyes beg for him to notice you. It's subtle but he can see it. He always can.
The need for an older man to give you attention is so clearly etched on to your face. Especially when the two of you interact, it's truly a wonder nobody else has caught on to the two of you yet.
The look in your eyes when you make a mistake and he gets to chastise you for it in front of your peers? It makes his cock so hard just at the mere thought of it right now. He loves having you under his control. You would do anything to please him, and he loves this twisted game he's been playing with you. It was so easy. All he had to do was break you down enough to where you were desperate enough to seek out his help.
You fell for it too, because of course you did. You were either incredibly naive or knew deep down how that evening would end up when he invited you over for some extra "lessons".
Robby walks over to the street that's across from the sushi restaurant. He remains in the shadows, just out of reach of the streetlamps light. He can see you perfectly through the window from here.
He's going to follow you to that club whether you want him to or not. He has to see you. Touch your soft skin. Make you moan in his ear and beg him for more. Feel you wrapped around his cock. It might send him over the edge if he doesn't get to. He hasn't talked to you in awhile but he knows you'll say yes. You always do.
So for now he'll wait.
************************
The alcohol coursing through your veins started to turn the room around you into a spinning blur. The floor was vibrating with everyone dancing around you. You lost yourself in the song. Dancing to the steady, pulsating beat of "Hate or Glory" by Gesaffelstein. The lights above the dance floor were in tune with the song. The giant stained glass chandelier above helped reflect the lasers back on to the walls. You swayed your hips and danced to the beat. You could feel the bass of the song in your chest. You didn't recognize anyone around you, you didn't care. It felt freeing.
It was a welcome distraction to what happened at the restaurant. You wondered what they were doing now. The woman's face flashed in your mind. You pictured her perfectly manicured lips on Robbys. Saw him grip her waist, then whisper into her ear.
The song faded into a different one. "Pain" by Boy Harsher. You looked across the floor about 15 feet away, and you locked eyes with a man you had been checking out the entire time you've been here. He kept making eye contact with you too, and he was quite handsome. Even if he was your age.
You got closer to him, and gave him a playful smile. He returned it with a sly smirk. The two of you moved together. He snakes his hand around your waist and brought you even closer. His hand moved to the small of your back. You put your hand on his chest and stared into his eyes with nothing but lust.
If Robby could fuck someone else, then so could you. Nothing mattered anymore. You were on a dangerous road heading straight to god knows where. You just wanted to feel something for once. You roll your hips forward a little into him, and he grins. You dance with each other until the song ends and fades into the next. A remix of a Cure song. Everyones sweaty bodies bumping into each other. Fog from a machine somewhere above you was filling the dance floor to create even more of an alluring atmosphere.
You had turned yourself around and had your ass moving against his crotch. He had pressed himself up against you and you felt how hard he was. God you wanted someone, anyone, inside you so badly. Anything to take the pain away.
You turn back around and he immediately pulls you back towards his chest. Without saying anything, he brushes his lips against yours. You smile and lean in, letting him know it was ok to kiss you. The two of you makeout on the dance floor. You don't really care if people see you. It felt good to be wanted, even if it was a total stranger.
The man slides his knee in-between your legs, and you unabashedly grind down slightly on it. You both moan into each other's mouths, your tongues twisting around each other. His hand travels up to the base of the back of your neck, tugging your hair a little. You continue to grind down on his knee. It was overwhelming. He breaks the kiss suddenly and brings his lips to your ear. "Wanna get out of here?" he questions. His voice is deep and a little raspy. It's very hot.
You nod, and whisper back "meet me at the front in ten minutes." He nods, grinning, then leans back in and coos gently in your ear. "Don't be too long beautiful." and gently grabs your hand. He brings it up to his mouth, and gives the back of your hand a kiss. He brings it back down. You smile and turn to go towards the bathroom to freshen up.
***********************
Walking down the hallway to the bathroom in this particular club was always interesting. It was a long hallway, that had several small alcoves in it. The alcoves were more or less areas where you could escape to if you wanted some privacy. They had velvet curtains covering them from floor to ceiling, so you could really do whatever you wanted to behind them if necessary. Drugs. Sex. A break if needed. A spot to talk. Nobody really cared.
Some of the alcoves had benches or chairs. You had never been in one but had a look or two when passing by, sometimes people forgot to close the curtain all the way. It was very voyeuristic and that thrilled you in a way.
After using the bathroom and fixing your hair, you heard "OPR" by Gesaffelstein blaring over the speakers. You hurriedly left the bathroom and made your way out to the dance floor. You loved this song and wondered if the man was still out there or had made his way up front to meet you. You also needed to find Amanda and tell her you were leaving.
You were about to walk past the final alcove before the hallway spilled out on to the dance floor, when an arm shot out from behind the curtain of it and yanked you out of the hallway.
You tried to let out a scream but a large hand covered your mouth. It only took you a second to recognize who it was. You knew just from the scent of his skin. It was Robby. He held you up against him. Your ass against his crotch. He was rock hard already. His other hand came across your chest and squeezed your tits hard.
"Having fun, slut?" He chided into your ear.
You nod and try to say some semblance of a "yes" but there's no way for him to possibly hear you.
He ripped the top of your dress down, exposing one of your breasts. His warm hand encapsulating your tit.
"Saw ya out there dancing with that guy." He breathes into your ear.
"Were you planning on giving him what's mine?" The question is wrapped in a dangerous, possessive tone.
You mumble out a "not yet" but he's still covering your mouth with his hand.
He chuckles in your ear, it's deep and laced with a poisonous tone.
"I know you were about to. Good thing I caught you in time huh?"
His hand on your breasts squeezes on of your nipples, a shot of pain mixed with pleasure courses up your chest. You moan but it doesn't matter. No one can hear anything past the curtain.
"You gonna be a good girl and not scream?" He questions, wanting to remove his hand from your mouth.
You nod and he moves his hand, but now wraps his arm around your waist and man handles you into his lap as he sits down on the bench behind him.
He immediately spreads your legs open, not even bothering to ask. Why should he? It's not like he ever has before. You feel his bulge at your lower back. He's just as turned on as you are.
You lower your back on to his chest and lean your head back on to his shoulders. You let him do whatever he wants to do. You close your eyes and sink into the void. It just feels nice to be touched. No thinking involved. Just feeling.
His fingers rip open the gusset of your panties to the side and he slides them through your soaked core.
He lets out a hiss in your in ear, stroking his fingers up and down from your clit to your entrance.
"Is all this for me or for him?" He interrogates you.
You shrug your shoulders a little and let out a sigh. You don't bother to verbalize your answer because he won't be able to hear you anyways. You just don't want him to stop.
"Or is this because you've got your pussy on display for anyone who could walk in? Hm?"
You moan and you shift into his lap, trying to stay still but what he's doing feels so good.
The hand he has on your waist glides down and rucks the hem of your dress up, fully exposing your bottom half.
"That's right, let everyone in this club see how fucking wet you are. Show them how worked up you get over the thought of anyone seeing this slutty pussy of yours. Bet you'd fuckin love that wouldn't ya?"
You stutter your hips forward as he whispers filth into your ear. His nose pressing into the back of it. His beard prickles the side of your neck, giving you goosebumps. His fingers apply more pressure to your clit and it's making you whimper and squirm.
"You wanna invite that guy over here? Hm?"
You bite your lip and shake your head from side to side.
"Oh really? Because you were so close to giving yourself to him. Even though you belong to me. Thought you were MY good girl....guess not." He chides in your ear.
You whimper, and turn your head to speak into his ear now.
"I am....I just....got so lonely and I saw you with someone else-"
At the mention of his date he spanks your pussy and you let out a mixture of a moan and a yelp. He cups your pussy possessively and tugs your head back to meet your ear with his mouth.
"No." He spanks you again, his hand hitting your clit so hard you nearly scream. "You don't get to talk about her. Now shut the fuck up and listen." He grits through his teeth. He continues. "You're going to leave this club. Alone. You're going to go back to your apartment and go into your room. Take all you clothes off, and wait for me on your bed. If you touch yourself before I get there, I'll know." He circles your clit with his thumb and you whimper, you're already so close to the edge.
"You've got 30 minutes. Leave now or don't bother to talk to me again."
With this he removes his hand and pulls your underwear back over to cover you back up. He pulls your dress up so your chest is no longer exposed.
You stand up and out of his lap, turning around to face him. You stare down at him with a mixture of desperation and confusion. He stares up at you with nothing but a blank stare. He gives you a small nod while cocking his head to the side, signaling for you to leave.
You stumble out from behind the curtain and make your way back on to the dance floor in a daze. Bumping into people and tripping over yourself as you make your way out of the dense crowd. You look towards the bar and Amanda is nowhere in sight. As you head down towards the stairs you take your phone out of your purse and shoot her a quick text.
"Hey. Met a guy and we're going to my apartment. I'll text you after. Let me know when you get home safe."
You felt bad ditching her but you needed to get out of this club either way. Your senses were overwhelmed. The buzz of alcohol and the interaction with Robby you just now had was churning your feelings over in your stomach.
As you head out towards the doors you see the man from the dance floor is waiting for you. He smiles when you approach, and you give him a smile.
"Ready to get out of here, beautiful?" He tries to bring you in towards his chest but you put your hands up in front of yourself.
"I'm so sorry, I don't feel well at all." You try your best to put on a sick looking demeanor.
His face falls slightly but he nods his head. "I understand. Wouldn't want you uncomfortable." He smiles. "Can I get your number and we can uh maybe try this again?"
You nod and give him your number. Maybe you'll text him tomorrow. Right now you just want to get out of here. The clock is ticking. You kiss him goodbye and tell him you'll text him soon. After all, he seemed pretty nice.
You push open the doors to the club and the cool nice air is a welcome gift from the hot and heavy atmosphere of the last hour you just experienced. Walking towards the closest subway stop, you wrestle with yourself internally. You're intoxicated, you're horny, and you're about to fuck Robby again. Why do you feel so bad about it? You tell yourself it's because he's treated you so poorly but there's something else there, lying behind just that. You wait for your train, lost in thought.
***************
Sitting up perfectly still on your bed, completely nude you're second guessing if this is really what you want to do. You're starting to come to a realization that maybe you don't want this anymore. Like this little "agreement" has run it's course. You're about to start a new rotation outside of the ER and you could turn a "new leaf" so to speak. This would be a good time to end things. But then again, he makes you feel so good....
As continue to battle yourself internally you hear the front door of your apartment open. How Robby knew where you lived was not something you were going ask about. Of course he knew where you lived. Probably looked it up in your file at some point.
You lean back on to your elbows and spread your legs open a little. You wanted to feel his touch. His thick cock. It's all you could think about.
He pushes open the door to your bedroom. The door creaking as he pushes it open. You have only one little lamp on, so the lighting is very dim. Just barely above what a nightlight in a hallway would cast.
You can't see what his face looks like until he gets closer. But his presence is intimidating. It always is. The hold he has over you is hypnotizing. Your mind just shuts off when he comes anywhere near you so he can take over it for himself.
He walks over to you. Slowly. Saying nothing. He gets up to just about where your knees are; they're spread open for him. But his body doesn't touch yours yet. He's inches away but feels so far.
You can see him now since he's closer. His face reads like a predator about to consume his prey. His dark brown eyes scan your body, starting from your glistening core. Trailing up from there towards your chest where he pauses. Your breathing quickens just a little and you can tell he likes seeing that. Finally he moves his eyes up to your face.
You try to give a neutral expression but he knows you better than that.
"Miss me?" He whispers in that gravely voice of his. The tone of it is tinged with a hint of sadness.
You give a slight nod.
"Yes daddy." You whisper back, your voice cracks a little. You're not sure why you're getting emotional. Maybe it's because you know this might be the last time.
He sinks down to his knees in front of you, and you spread your legs further, scooting your lower half forward. Inviting him in. You're a little taken aback he doesn't ask you to turn over on to your stomach. Maybe he wants to look into your eyes finally as he ruins you.
His warm breath hits your core as he continues to look up at you.
"Can I taste you sweet girl?"
It's the first time he's ever asked permission to do anything to you.
You move your hand to cup his cheek. It's a tender gesture. Not one you're used to doing with him. You nod you head.
"Yes please daddy. As much as you want."
He lets out a little groan.
"Such a good girl. Always letting me do what I want. Gonna make you feel good ok? It's been too long..."
He begins to kiss up your inner thigh, slowly and gently.
"Lay back for me baby. Enjoy this.'
You sink on to the bed, your back hitting the cool satin sheets. Both his hands come up to grasp your hips.
He kisses up your other thigh now. You're not used to the tenderness. It's a stark contrast to how he handled you at the club not even an hour ago.
He stops and looks up at you. You peer down at him.
"You know how many times I've wanted to fuck you again at work? How many times I've had to resist just taking you into an unoccupied room and make you scream?"
You breath hitches at his confession.
He flattens his tongue and licks a thick stripe up from your entrance to your clit. He never breaks eye contact. "God I missed the taste of this sweet little cunt of yours. Always makes my mouth water just thinking about it." He groans.
You hand shoots out to grasp his hair. You let out loud whimper and grasp the sheets with your other hand. "How many times?"
"Too many fucking times to count. I just wanted to ruin you, over and over again."
He swirls his tongue around you clit, and moves his hand away from your hips to poke at your dripping hole.
"Wh-why didn't you?" you stutter out. His tongue working wonders on your overly sensitive bud.
He breaks eye contact to watch as two thick fingers go inside you.
"Because we're not good for each other." He admits. Observing as his fingers slowly pump in and out of you, curling to meet the spot inside of you that makes you see white on the edges of your eyes.
Your eyes well with tears. Whether it be from the pleasure or the truth of his words, you're not sure.
"I-i know. But it feels too good to stop." You breathe out, trying not to let him see you're crying.
He moans into your core, and you swear you see him rut against the side of the bed, clearly in need of relief.
"Fuck baby I know. God it makes me so fuckin' hard to see you crying. All because I make you feel so good."
You close your eyes and let the tears fall. He looks up from his ministrations and he groans.
"Thats not why I'm crying Robby." The words spill out past your lips.
"I know." He whispers. His eyes never leave yours.
His tongue circles around your core and you get closer and closer to the edge, it's always so quick with him. He has every inch of you memorized and knows exactly how to get you off. His fingers thrusting in and out of you at the perfect pace.
Your eyes flutter and you tighten your grip around his hair.
"I'm...I'm so close." A guttural groan slipping out of your mouth.
"You want daddy to make you cum baby?"
You nod your head and arch your back, bracing yourself for your release.
"Words sweetheart, you know I wanna hear ya ask."
"Please daddy, please can I cum ?" You're still crying a little while you beg him. Your voice a high pitched whine.
"Good girl. Cum for me."
You let yourself bathe in your release. The pure relief washing over you in waves. You hear Robby moan and tell you how good you felt coming around his fingers but you don't pay attention to it. You're just focused on really basking in the glow of how he just made you feel.
You come back down from your high and when you do you see him taking his shirt off. His biceps are so muscular and you see his tattoos sprinkled down his arms. His chest has some hair that leads down and underneath his boxers.
"You look so good when you cum. I can't believe i denied myself from seeing it for so long."
You feel yourself blush. "Thank you."
He takes his boxers off now, and his cock is so hard. No wonder he needed some relief earlier.
He strokes himself a little.
"Jesus Christ sweetheart. Been aching for you since I saw you at that restaurant. Looked so beautiful in that little outfit of yours. You were just begging for it, huh?"
You nod, and bite your lip as you watch him stroke himself. He's so hot. You're already getting worked up again.
"Want this cock inside you, don't ya?" He makes his way on to the bed. You're still laying on your back. You go to flip over but he puts his hand on your thigh, stopping you.
"I wanna see you, pretty girl."
You almost start crying again.
"Ok daddy." you sniffle out. This is all too much.
You lay your head on your pillow, and spread your legs again. He brings himself between them. He brings his cock in-between your folds, back and forth, achingly slow. Hitting your clit with his thick tip. Over and over.
"God you feel so good and I'm not even inside you yet. You do things to me that I've never felt before."
You reach up and place your hand to grip his bicep. Looking up at him, batting your lashes.
"I love it when you're inside me daddy. You fill me up so perfectly." you whine.
He grits his teeth and a moan creeps out from behind them.
"You keep talking like that I'm not going to last long." He relents.
"Just want you so badly daddy. Touched myself so many times to the thought of you fucking me like this." You mewl out.
He reaches his hand up and wraps it around your throat, Tight.
"You sound like such a little slut when you say shit like that."
He enters you without warning. No teasing. No inching himself in. Just plunges right into your velvety center.
You both moan so loudly in unison. The feeling of you wrapped around him and him stretching you open is the closest to god the two of you will ever get.
"Fuck feels so good daddy" you manage to breath out, despite his grip around your neck. The air getting cut off is making you dizzy but in the most delicious way.
"God I love the way you feel around me. So tight. So wet. Every time." He begins a steady pace, clearly trying to make this last.
"I wanna feel you inside me, always." You squeak out from behind your lips. He slowly lets go of the vice grip around your throat.
"Bet you'd like that wouldn't ya?" His hand comes down to rub your swollen clit.
"I would use you like a little fucktoy. Just a little hole for me to fuck and fill up. Nice and deep." He's showing his true depravity now. No more hiding. What's the point?
He rubs your clit and continues his thoughts as he steadily fucks you.
"Yeah a little slut like you needs to be filled. Only way you can think is if there's a cock inside you."
His pressure on your clit becomes harder. It's almost too much.
You whine underneath him and nod, agreeing with what he's saying because- partially- it is true. You can recognize that.
"Is that what gets you off? Or is it the fact I'm so much older than you? That you've got an older mans cock deep inside you."
Your eyes flutter and you gasp. He keeps going.
"Am I just an outlet for you to resolve your fucking daddy issues? Is that what is?" He goes faster now, his thrusts are hitting you right in your g-spot and the way he's swiping over your clit is almost too much. At some points, it already is.
"Gonna answer me or are you too cock drunk to speak?'
You whine and grip the sheets with your other arm
"Fuck-k-k i..i can't speak" You manage to get some words past your lips. "Daddy I'm..im close."
He grins and goes faster now. Unrelenting.
"Already? You're too fuckin easy. You think this slutty hole deserves to cum again?"
You arch your back and a tear slips out from behind your eyes.
"Please sir? Feels too good." You cry out.
"That's it. Love seeing you cry on my cock like this." He moans a little.
You feel his hips start to stutter a bit. He's close too. Both of you trying to hold on but it feels too good to stop.
"You better ask permission before you cum all over your daddys cock." His thumb presses on to your clit so hard it makes your eyes roll back and your hand shoots up to claw at his arms.
"Please daddy can I come all over your cock?" You plead with him.
"Hmm let me think about it..." He stares down at you, his pace never faulters and his thumb keeps those tight, steady circles on your clit.
Your eyes widen and you feel like you might explode if he doesn't let you.
It feels like an eternity. You know he's doing it on purpose. Wanting to make it last.
He finally gives you permission.
"Cum for me pretty girl."
And oh you've never felt pure ecstasy in your life. The two of you hitting your release at once. His guttural groans colliding with your moans.
The sound of your heavy breathing fills the room. His body shakes a little as he paints your walls with his spend. After a minute, He moves to lay down next to you, and the emptiness you feel when his cock leaves you makes you whimper.
You feel his cum leaking out of you. You don't do anything about it.
He moves to put his arm under your neck and you turn over on to your side to put your head on his chest. Curling up next to him.
The two of you don't say anything for awhile. Your breathing returns to normal. Finally, you get the courage to speak up.
"Robby?" you whisper.
"Yeah?" he whispers back.
"Stay with me until I fall asleep?" A tear falls from your face.
"Anything for my good girl." He tilts your head to look up at him.
Your head moves up but your eyes stay lowered.
"Look at me." He softly commands.
You look up at him but your vision is all blurry. He wipes the tears away as they spill down your cheeks.
"I just....I-i don't know if I-i can do this anymore." You sob.
It feels good to get it off your chest but it's one of the hardest things you've ever done.
He nods and cups your cheek.
"I know pretty girl. You don't have too. Everything has to end at some point. We can't keep this going forever." He comforts you. You want to stop crying but it feels impossible.
He threads his fingers through your hair and whispers sweet praises into your ear.
"You were so good for me."
"Won't have anyone else like you. Ever."
"You'll always be my good girl."
You know he means every word.
You fall asleep, and he does too. For a little while, at least.
When he wakes up the two of you are tangled up in each others arms. He slowly, removes his arm from underneath you. He tucks you in without a sound. He puts his clothes back on. A little shakily. He doesn't want to cut things off, but he knows it's for the best.
As he gazes down at you, You're sleeping so soundly. You deserve it.
Pairing: Dark!Joel Miller x f!reader, Dark!Tommy Miller x f!reader
w/c 2.5K
A/N: Ok, part 12 of Collared is here! Same as before, it's dark so please heed the warnings and skip if it's not for you.
Housekeeping first - I am moving away from individual tag lists. If you would like to be added to my everything tag list please let me know. If you have previously asked to be tagged in the Collared series but are not on my everything tag list you will no longer be tagged after this chapter. If you do not want on the tag list you can follow the tag #collared fic.
So full disclosure, I have decided to split this section of the story up a little more as there's so much ground to cover. This felt like a good stopping point for this part. It's pretty angsty so apologies 😂 Also less smut in this part (sorry) but I promise a lot more is coming in future parts.
Moodboard is for aesthetics only, reader is not described beyond having boobs and a vagina and hair (very brief mention and it is not described). Please refer to this post for more info on the series mooboards.
Warnings: Non-Con, dark Joel, dark Tommy, kidnapping, daddy kink, uncle kink, restraints (not mentioned in this chapter but pre-established that reader is chained and collared), stockhom syndrome, oral (m!receiving), toxic anger, verbal abuse, mentions of past rape, mild violence. Let me know if I missed anything.
Joel was in heaven. You on your knees between his legs, looking up at him with your sweet, innocent eyes, mouth full of his cock. The soft suction of your warm, wet mouth bobbing up and down had his head falling back as he moaned long and loud. But he forced his head back upright, wanting to watch as you took him. Burn it into his memory. He was enjoying himself so much he didn’t even notice the smug look on Tommy’s face.
His hand found the back of your head, not forcing, just needing to touch you. You moaned around him at the contact, always desperate to have his hands on you.
“Oh fuck baby!” he had to fight to keep his hips from bucking into you.
Saliva escaped from your stretched lips and ran down his shaft, caught by your hand as it stroked him up and down and your tongue massaged that vein on his underside. You were driving him crazy. He just knew your sweet mouth would be perfect.
“That’s it princess, you’re doing such a good job.”
Tommy’s voice brought Joel back to Earth with a crash and he wasn’t the only one if the guilty look in your eyes was anything to go by. You’d both been lost in it. This new intimacy that was so intoxicating and now it came flooding back. What needed to happen. Joel was alarmingly close to coming already. He had to hand it to Tommy, he’d done an amazing job with your training. You moved with such ease and confidence as your tongue flicked and caressed his shaft and your lips stoked up and down. But if he came now he’d lose you for a full day and the prospect of that didn’t bear thinking about. Because there’s no way he could tell Tommy this wasn’t the best blow job of his life and be believed. You were incredible. So fucking perfect for him. Always so perfect. But perhaps it had already gone too far, he couldn’t see a way out of it now. You couldn’t just lose all this amazing technique midway through sucking him off and have it be believable. For a moment he wondered if you were going to pick Tommy instead. If you’d decided you couldn’t betray him like that. If that guilty look in your eyes was for the way you were about to betray Joel even while you swallowed his cock.
Joel lost grip of his constraint as your head bobbed upwards, maintaining the perfect suction round his cock as you rose and ended with a swirl of your tongue round his sensitive crown. His hips bucked upwards of their own volition, forcing his cock deeper into your mouth than you’d taken him yet. He saw the momentary panic in your eyes as you gagged on him. The noise alone was almost enough to tip him over but he immediately retracted, letting go of your head as you reared backwards off him.
You looked so sad as you mumbled your apology, “m’sorry daddy.”
“It’s alright princess,” Tommy soothed you before Joel could open his mouth. “Take him again sugar, you can do it, this is what we trained for.”
You gave Tommy a furtive look before shuffling back between Joel’s spread legs, his hand cupped your cheek as you took him in hand again. He stroked your cheek gently for a moment before you guided him back into your mouth.
You resumed your bobbing and sucking and it felt just as good as before but now your eyes were boring into Joel’s, pleading, desperate. He ever so slightly shifted his hips upwards and waited for the tiniest nod from you before he bucked again, making you gag and scoot backwards once more. This was it. This was how you got out of this. Joel wanted to scoop you up and kiss you for being so clever.
“It’s too big Uncle Tommy, I can’t.”
“You can princess, I know you can,” he cooed at you as he directed you back to your original position, his hands firm on your shoulders. “Again, princess, you can do it.”
You sniffled as you tried again, taking more of Joel’s cock again, sucking him to the point of madness.
“Deeper princess, come on, you can do it.” You whimpered as you tried to take more of Joel’s gigantic cock into your mouth, your lips stretched thin and jaw aching with the effort. You inched forward a little more and immediately started to gag. Just as you began to pull back you felt a hand on your head, shoving you forward, Joel’s massive cock head now stretching your throat as well as your lips.
Joel could see the panic in your eyes once more as you choked, arms flailing for a moment before trying to push back against Joel’s thighs in an effort to provide you enough leverage to break Tommy’s hold on you.
“Tommy what the fuck?!” He could kill Tommy right now but with his cock still lodged deep in your mouth his movement was restricted. He tried fruitlessly to bat Tommy’s hand off your head, the vibrations of your gagging and sobs threatening to push him to his peak.
“Let her up! NOW!”
It was Joel’s bellow that brought Tommy back to his senses. He released you and you immediately fell backwards, curling up on the floor and sobbing your heart out.
“I-I’m sorry Uncle Tommy, I’m sorry.”
“C’mon princess, get up, you can do this, you just gotta try.”
“It’s too big, I can’t, I’m sorry.”
“It’s ok baby, it’s ok, c’mere.” Joel lifted you from the floor to cradle you in his arms. You tucked your head into his neck to cry, your tears tickling down his skin. He hated himself for putting you through this. He promised himself that he’d make it up to you for the thousandth time.
Tommy was pacing back and forth, still agitated, “c’mon princess, you can’t give up that easy, I didn’t peg you as a quitter. Get back on your knees and try again.”
You shook your head, still not looking at him, “hey! Don’t shake your head at me. And look at me when I talk you!” His sharp words struck you deep in your chest, the pain of your betrayal agonising. You knew how much this meant to him, how hard he’d worked. And here you were letting him down.
You turned your head, looking up at him balefully. “I’m so sorry Uncle Tommy.” Joel hugged you closer, “don’ got to apologise baby, you tried real hard. You don’ got to do anything you don’ want.”
Tommy narrowed his eyes at the pair of you, anger rising in his chest. He hated it. Joel playing the saviour once again. “That ain’t what you said when you raped her out of her virginity.”
His tone was acid, sharp and biting, looking for any way to cause a wound. The red mist descended over him. He was too far gone to even register the warning growl of his name that escaped Joel’s lips or the wail of despair that broke free from you. The tirade continued to burst out of him like lava from a volcano, mindless and destructive. He couldn’t hear anything but the buzzing in his brain. Not his own words, not your cries, not Joel’s harsh responses. He barely registered pulling you out of Joel’s arms and onto the floor, or the pleading look on your face as you reached out for him begging for forgiveness as Joel got between you, or the harsh words of Joel’s admonitions. He felt the fury pulsing in his veins. The same as he’d felt down at the local dive bar on a Friday night before the world had gone to shit. That same instinct that made him want to tear someone limb from limb. But unlike before, it wasn’t nameless, faceless assholes in front of him. It was his family. He needed air and space.
Tommy nearly took the door off it’s hinges as he stormed out of the cabin, hearing it slam behind him. He felt the frustration burning in his chest. He’d been so sure he was going to win the bet that he’d never even considered what would happen if he lost. He’d trained you so fucking hard, put in all that effort, all for nothing.
It wasn’t even the thought of being without you for 24 hours that had him this worked up. It was the thought of Joel’s smug face. That once again he’d failed in his endeavour, just like he had so many times before. Never able to live up to the standards of his big brother, never able to match his abilities or his successes. Tommy had always been a screw up and everyone had always made sure to let him know it. Their parents, their teachers, even some of their friends. And even now at the end of the world, he was still proving himself a failure. And he’d see it written all over Joel’s face. That he’d never really believed he could do it. He stomped over to the pig pen and kicked the fence and rattled the gate with a snarl to try and release some of his frustrations, sending the pigs into a tizzy of disgruntled oinks and grunts.
He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, trying to reign in the anger he felt coursing through him. He heard the door open behind him, heard the heavy footsteps of Joel heading over to him. “Not now Joel,” he spat, not even bothering to turn around and look at his brother, making it more of a shock when Joel grabbed him and spun him, clutching the front of his shirt and pushing him hard into the fence post, the wood slamming against his spine and the back of his head making him groan. “What the fuck Joel!” Tommy struggled in Joel’s grip, trying to push and shove his brother off him. “What the hell is wrong with you?!” he demanded.
“Me?! What the hell is wrong with me?!” Joel roared at him, “what the fuck is wrong with you?!” He pushed him back into the post again and got right in Tommy’s face. “What the hell was that in there huh? You fixin’ to scare her half to death cos you didn’t get your way? She tried her fuckin’ best and now she’s devastated, cryin’ her eyes out and thinkin’ you hate her.”
Tommy finally stopped struggling as it hit him. How awfully he’d behaved to you. How loud he’d shouted. All the cruel things he’d said. And when you’d reached for him, he’d just turned and stormed out.
Tommy deflated immediately, slumping against the post, no longer struggling in Joel’s hold. The sudden change in his demeanour took the wind out of Joel’s sails. He’d come out here to read Tommy the riot act and honestly had been fixing for a fight. If only because his rage helped to drown out the guilt that had coursed through him at seeing you so upset. To see Tommy give in so easily was alarming.
He let go of him with a harsh shove. Tommy didn’t even react and Joel didn’t know what to do now. “What the fuck Tommy?” he asked, more genuinely this time.
“I’m sorry.”
“No. You don’t get to just apologise your way outta this, you need to explain what the fuck that was.”
Tommy slid down the wall and put his head in his hands, not knowing what to say.
“Look, if it’s about the bet we can call it off ok. It ain’t worth all this fuckin’ shit.”
Tommy shook his head. “You really think this is just me bein’ a bad loser? I guess that tracks.”
“What the fuck does that mean?”
“It means you always think the fuckin’ worst of me!”
“Well right now Tommy I got good reason and if you want to change that then you need to start talkin’.
Tommy sat back, dropping his hands from his face. “I ain’t mad that I lost. I ain’t even mad at her. I’m mad at myself. For failin’, again. Just like always.”
“Tommy -“
“Don’t deny it. I’ve always been a screw up.”
“People screw up Tommy, everyone.”
“Not you. You know how hard I tried to live up to you. And I never got anywhere close. I just wanted to prove to myself that things were different now,” Tommy explained, staring hard at his hands.
He’d expected a lecture. Maybe some small pushback, a little reassurance that maybe Joel didn’t view him as a total burden. So when the silence stretched on he chanced a glance upwards. He hadn’t expected to see Joel still stood there, fists clenched tight, his body tensed and wired as if he was physically restraining himself. But his face, his face was twisted in pain.
“I never failed? I’m the biggest fuckin’ failure there is. No one knows that better than you.” His left hand unclenched and rubbed over the face of his broken watch and then stroked the scar on his head.
It felt like a sucker punch to his belly as Tommy took in the meaning of Joel’s words. He was beyond fucking pathetic. All that Joel had been through, all they had both been through. The loss, the fighting, the scramble for survival. And Tommy was still hung up on petty shit from years ago. Petty, pointless shit. He even screwed up being a screw up. He wanted the ground to open up and swallow him whole.
He scrambled to his feet and made his way over to Joel, wrapping his arms around him tight. “I’m sorry. I didn’t- It wasn’t your fault. You ain’t a failure. What happened wasn’t your fault Joel.”
Joel patted him on the back and broke away. “I was her father. It was my job to protect her. And I failed. Ain’t nothing you can do that will ever be as bad as that.”
Tommy didn’t know what to say. Knew there were no words that could ever convince Joel that he wasn’t to blame. He felt Sarah’s loss sharp in his chest. The aching just as acute as the day it happened.
“You need to make this right with her,” Joel said with a nod towards the cabin. “That girl’s the best thing that happened to us since the world went to shit and you hurt her. I’ll start my 24 hours in the morning. You can have until then to sort this out.”
Joel stalked off towards the chickens leaving Tommy alone. He looked back towards the cabin. He knew he had to apologise to you but didn’t know how he could bring himself to face you after being so awful. He looked back over towards Joel. He knew if he didn’t do it he’d never hear the end of it. And a little voice in his head whispered that Joel would choose her over him if it came to it. He hated the little piece of himself that was excited by that.
He took a deep breath and headed back to the cabin. Time to stop running. To stop hiding behind Joel. Time to be a man and take responsibility for his mistakes.
I think it’s fair to say we’ve all seen a drop in interaction on tumblr over the last couple of years and one thing that strikes me is that people always seem hesitant to self-rec or repost their own stuff. So I’m giving you an excuse to do it. Put your works back out there for new people to discover.
I know it might seem a little scary, no one wants to seem pushy or braggy but there are so many talented and wonderful people on here that you should get to feel proud of your work and toot your own horn a little bit. Especially when reblogging is literally the only way to get your posts seen.
So here it is. Each week in April there will be a different theme, some will be a specific ask for a particular post, others you can post as many as you like. I’ll list the themes below, reblog your work and tag it #aprilappreciation and tag me too. I may at some point compile all of your reblogs into a Masterlist, depending on how many there are.
This is not limited to writing; artwork, moodboards, gifs are all welcome and encouraged. I’m also not limiting it to a specific fandom. If you come across this and want to play along please go right ahead. The only limitations I’m setting are that the reblogs should be your own work, nothing AI generated and please make sure everything is tagged appropriately.
That being said, it is up to everyone to curate their own experience on here so please do heed all warnings and tags before interacting with any of the reposts.
Themes:
Week 1 - the first work you posted
Week 2 - the works that pushed you outside your comfort zone
Week 3 - the works you feel deserve a bit more love
Week 4 - your personal favourite work
So that’s it. You don’t have to play every week (although I’d love it if you did). And of course while reblogging your own work is great, maybe check out some of the other reblogs and maybe interact with those too! Spread the love.
I’ll put out a reminder post each week as well with the weeks theme on, just to keep us all right!
For the first time in Whump March Madness history, we have a repeat winner! So in addition to a couple of gifs, I'll be changing things up and adding some fic recs :D
~The Night Agent, 3x08
~MacGyver, 2x04
Aaaand an assortment of fic recs under the cut!
~ Let the House Absorb the Blame, White Collar (2,509 words)
When a case goes wrong, Neal ends up drugged, confused, and he does the only thing he can - he runs. What he doesn't know is where he's run to, and why he's so reluctant to leave.
Which is how Peter finds his missing CI, passed out on the floor of his own living room.
~ L is for Lost, The Listener (3,198 words)
They just wanted a relaxing night out in town, but it ended up with Toby in trouble.
~ Slumped Over, Nightwing (4,735 words)
“Jay?” Dick mumbled, clearly confused. “What’re you doin’ here?”
“This is my safehouse, dumbass.” Shit.
Dick blinked. “Yeah, but…” he furrowed his brow. “Didn’ think you’d be here….” He continued blinking at Jason, but made no further moves to enter the apartment.
Jason’s mind was running through scenarios. Drunk? High? Drugged? Some sort of mental breakdown? And why had the golden boy come here?
~ A Study in Exsanguinity, The Musketeers (3,411 words)
D'Artagnan has been abducted by a cult of purple-robed men. It's all somewhat tedious, until they start preparing him for sacrifice.
~ Get Help, The Man From UNCLE (2,751 words)
Illya and Napoleon have been captured, and escape is made slightly more complicated by the fact that Illya has been drugged and has only a vague understanding of what is happening around him.
~ Juno Steel and the Inside (wo)Man, The Penumbra Podcast (15,652 words)
Juno Steel takes the case of Faustus Silva, a wealthy man beloved by all--except, of course, for the person that's trying to kill him. Wherein Juno gets all dressed up and goes to a party which inevitably goes terribly, horribly wrong.
Summary: you share your body insecurities with Joel and he comforts you in the best way possible.
Tw: 18+ mdni, smut, pwp, fluff, established relationship, body insecurities, mention of working out, fem!oral, body worship, multiple orgasms, unprotected piv, praise kink, body part pronouns, swearing. Reader has a soft lower belly otherwise she has no specific physical descriptions.
Word count: 1,9k
A/n: this is a very self-indulgent story and I hope you’ll enjoy reading it as much as I did writing🫶 Kissing to @milla-frenchy for beta-ing. ILY baby💞 Dividers by @/thecutestgrotto
Can be read as a part of Heatwave collection or as a standalone
MASTERLIST || Heatwave collection
Ughhhh!!
You let out a loud groan, standing in front of the mirror in the bathroom, your oversized t-shirt bunched up over your belly, your panties pulled a little lower. You’re mercilessly scrutinizing your body, your frustration written all over your face.
A few moments later you hear a knock on the door followed by Joel’s croaky voice.
“You ok there?”
Your grunts must have woken him up.
“Yeah,” you reply, frowning at your reflection. Then you open the door and pout at him.
Joel’s leaning against the wall, wearing his old home tee and black boxers and for a second you forget your worries and ogle his broad frame and a prominent bulge. Your body reacts to the sight of him immediately — your core burns and you wish to press yourself against him, feel his morning wood poke your lower belly.
“You sure?” Joel’s question wakes you up from the daydreaming and you frown even harder, grumbling,
“It’s my fupa. It won’t go away.”
“Your what?” Joel walks into the bathroom, puts his hands on his hips and looks you up and down in confusion.
“This!” You lift your tee and point at your problem.
“Your pussy?”
“Oh my god, Joel!” You exclaim with annoyance and turn away from him. You face the mirror again and slap your lower belly with your palm.
“This! I’ve been doing all those exercises and it’s still here!”
Joel’s face is a picture of confusion as he steps closer and hugs you from behind. His eyes meet yours in the mirror as he asks,
“Why d’you want it to go away?”
Now it’s your turn to look puzzled.
“What do you mean?”
His lips brush your ear and he rasps, sending chills down your spine,
“Why don’t you wanna have it? It’s sexy as fuck.” You gush into your panties but despite your body’s reaction, you huff and cross your arms in front of your chest.
“You only think about sex, Joel.”
The man chuckles into your hair, knowing very well what a horn dog you are, but when he notices that your expression is still sour, he sighs and carefully turns you around. You know you can confide in him, yet you still hide your eyes from his piercing gaze, feeling ashamed of your insecurities.
“Look at me,” he asks softly and you reluctantly do it, throwing a sharp “What?” at him.
Joel looks so adorable — his eyes are puffy from sleep, his curls disheveled, and you feel a sudden pang of conscience for dumping your problems on the man first thing in the morning. Still you keep on whining,
“You just don’t get it, Joel! I see all those women on Insta with their flat stomachs and abs and… and.. and.. tiny waists!”
Joel sighs and cups your cheek. His thumb glides over your skin and the warmth of his touch, his loving eyes soften your heart a little. You exhale deeply, some part of frustration leaving your body, and lean into his palm as he says,
“I’m sorry that you’re upset. But you’re so fuckin’ beautiful as you are.”
You smile and drop your eye, and never being able to accept a compliment, you shake your head.
Joel pulls you close and your smile grows when he whispers against the top of your head,
“Beautiful all over.”
He leans down and kisses your forehead, your cheeks, your nose. You giggle when his breath tickles you as he whispers, “Love this beautiful face”.
His hands on your back keep you pressed to his body while his lips travel lower to your neck and he peppers kisses over your soft skin there before breathing out,
“Love this beautiful neck.”
Your fingers run through his hair and you bite your lip as he bends down and kisses your chest over your tee.
“And these beautiful boobs.” He leaves kisses on each covered breast and then kneels in front of you.
“What are you doing?” you laugh looking down at him, standing on his knees, his hands on your hips.
“And this…,” he pulls the hem of your shirt up and stares right at the place that’s been giving you grief,
“—You wanna get rid of this gorgeous—,” he kisses your lower stomach, “—sexy-,” he leaves another kiss, “— belly?”
Joel wraps his arms around your hips, presses his scruffy cheek to your curve and looks up at you with his puppy eyes. With hurt in his voice he asks, “Why separating us?”
You laugh, seeing his pinched brows and pouty lips.
“Us? You and my fupa?”
“Yes!” He whines theatrically and starts kissing your soft lower belly. Little pecks soon turn into slow open mouth kisses and your pussy tingles as his lips are caressing your body just inches from the place that already needs him so much.
Joel’s hands don’t rest either — his big warm palms are gliding over the back of your thighs, your ass, your sides, leaving goosebumps in their wake. Your breathing quickens and your eyes get hazy when you watch and feel Joel make out with the curve of your body.
“Joel…,” you moan and run your fingers through his soft curls. When he looks up at you, your core ignites even brighter at the sight of his flushed face — his eyes are dark, his lips wet with his spit. He’s turned on just like you.
Not breaking eye contact, Joel hooks his thumbs under your panties and slowly pulls them down your legs. You swallow loudly, drowning in his lustful gaze, burning up with arousal that’s already making your legs tremble, waiting for what Joel is about to do. Your panties pool on the floor and you step out of them, placing your feet a little wider apart.
Joel breaks eye contact with you only to stare at your pussy, that’s wet and aching for him.
“Beautiful…,” he murmurs and leans closer to leave a kiss on your mound. You moan when he brings his hand to your heat and begins gently massaging your pussy lips.
“Have you heard—,” he gruffs, his eyes set on your cunt, his fingers gently stimulating you, “— She wants to get rid of your upstairs neighbor.”
“Joellll,” you half whimper-half laugh, giddy with his silliness but also deep in a pit of arousal. “Quit talking to my pussy.”
“Oh, I can’t talk to her now?!” He gawks up at you with his eyes widened. You shake your head, smiling down at this goofball.
“Can I do this at least?” He spreads your folds with his fingers and kisses your blooming cunt, drawing a whimper out of you.
“Or this?” He murmurs and licks a long wet stripe from your clenching hole to your clit.
“Yeah… “ you whimper, barely breathing. You spread your thighs wider and grab onto the sink behind you.
“Yeah?” Joel parts from your pussy and licks his lips, savoring your taste. “How about this?”
He circles his lips around your puffy clit and begins sucking on it, your eyes rolling to the back of your head.
“Yes-yes-yes,” you chant with a shaky voice, standing on your shaky legs while Joel alternates between lapping at your pussy and suckling on your bud, grunting and moaning against your leaking cunt, the vibrations adding to your immense pleasure. His fingers are digging into your hips, keeping you in place, as Joel’s eagerly slurping down your slick.
Feeling hot, you take your tee off, grip a handful of Joel’s locks and begin rolling your hips, grinding your heat against his lips and tongue in chase of your orgasm, while your free hand is twitching your pebbled nipple. Joel happily lets you use his face - he opens his mouth wider, moves his tongue up and down between your folds, swirls it around your clit. Soon you come with a loud cry, holding on to the sink for dear life, shaking and dripping your juices into Joel’s waiting mouth.
When your climax subsides, you almost fall back against the sink, your breath heavy, limbs tingling. Joel gets up with a grunt, his boxers spotting a huge tent, his beard wet, and judging by his blown out eyes and feral gaze it’s not over.
“M’not done with you, baby,” he growls and takes you in his arms as if you weigh nothing. “Need to do one more thing to your sweet body. Wanna you guess which?”
You giggle as he strides to the bed and throws you on the soft mattress. You don’t have time to get comfortable against the pillows — he grabs your legs and pulls you closer to him, making you gasp.
Then he kneels between your open thighs and pulls his cock out.
“Ya know what I think?” he gruffs, his breathing shaky. “We need to ask him, too.”
He nods at his hard leaking cock and you giggle, biting your lip.
“He doesn’t get a say, Joel. All he cares about is my pussy anyway.”
“Ya’sure?” Joel plants his hand on the bed by your shoulder, the other wrapped around the base of his member, and leans down, his face hovering over you.
You feel it before you see it— his hot crown lands heavy on your lower belly and Joel drags it down, from your navel to your mound, drawing a wet line of precum over your skin. He moans from the sensation and you echo him with a needy whimper, his pleasure giving you the strongest high.
“He loves every part of you,” Joel croaks, barely keeping his cool. “Jus’ like me.”
You smile up at your man, your clouded eyes locked with his, as your hands fly up to his broad chest.
His heart is beating fast when he murmurs,
“I love you, baby.”
“I love you, too. So much,” you say and then add,
“Please fuck me, Joel”.
He smirks at your impatience but you see that he's barely keeping himself from piercing you with his cock.
He finally does it - slides his stiff member into your core in one go, drawing a long moan out of you both.
“Ahhh.. so wet and warm. Perfect little pussy,” he cooes, then straightens up and watches your body take him — your bouncing tits, your open folds around his glistening shaft, your hole sucking in his cock again and again.
“Look at you… my gorgeous girl,” he gushes, not pausing his movements, still sending his length deep into you with every thrust. “Wouldn’t wanna change one thing about you.”
You might as well melt, his loving gaze and sweet words filing your belly with butterflies, your eyes welling up with tears of happiness.
He splays his palm over your lower belly, the place you’ve hated, and glides his hand over it, with his jaw slacking, as if it’s the most intimate and sensual part of you. Through his eyes, you see it differently - another curve of yours Joel loves and adores, that makes him horny, gives him pleasure. He’s fucking you so well, you come a second time, now on his cock, sobbing from ecstasy, thrashing against the bed.
“Fuck… gonna come,” Joel growls and pulls his cock out just a second before it starts spurting his cum on your belly, your mound, your puffy pussy.
You’re watching the pearly seed paint your skin and glide the tips of your fingers through the mess, wanting it all over you, wanting him all over you.
—
“Didn’t think your belly could be more beautiful but now..covered in my jizz ..,” Joel winks at you, wiping your skin clean with a wet towel and you beam at him, lying in bed naked, happy and satisfied, much more confident in your own body.
Thank you for reading! Your comments and reblogs will make my day!♥️
MASTERLIST || Heatwave collection
Tag list for the story: @kauyu @time-for-my-weekly-spanking @yeswhale456 @crayolacraycray @tateypots @chewie-bars @jules6898 @pascalgold @idknananchimaybe @speaktothehandpeasants @yrdsstiny @maried01 @ilyrhysand @ningaispunk @anisahfalcon @hystericalanduseless9 @joelmillersbabygirll
Summary - You start using Dieter’s trailer to pump when your breast milk comes in. It drives Dieter wild.
A/N - this is my entry for @time-for-my-weekly-spanking #2026kinkychallenge. I chose Dieter Bravo and lactation kink. Dieter is a little dark in this one so please heed the warnings before you read.
Warnings - Dub-con (reader initially resists and is not in a good frame of mind but does enjoy herself), lactation kink, obsessive/slightly stalkerish behaviour, pregnancy, lots of bodily fluids, infidelity, lots of smut. Let me know if I forgot anything.
“Oh shit, Jesus, sorry!”
Dieter stood frozen to the spot as you hastily tried to detach the breast pump without spraying milk everywhere while simultaneously trying to cover up your exposed breast.
“I’m so sorry Dieter, Carl said it would be ok to come in and pump in here, he said you would be on set for a few more hours!”
You were too flustered to notice the way he was hungrily staring at your chest. The way he licked his lips. It took him a moment to snap out of his reverie. He didn’t want you to stop.
“No, no, it’s fine honestly, there was an issue with one of the cameras, they cut while they get it fixed. Why, erm, why don’t you stay in here until you’re finished.”
You chanced a look at him, tears in your eyes. You really had been having a shitty morning and the ache in your breasts was really starting to get to you.
“Dieter, I couldn’t kick you out of your own trailer.”
“It’s fine, really,” he told you, “I’ll just head over to the catering tent and pick us up some food while you finish up yeah?”
“Are you sure?”
He gives you that charming lopsided grin of his, “I’m sure, I’ll be back in 20.”
You smile at him shyly and nod. “Ok, thank you Dieter.”
His gaze drops back to your now covered chest for a moment before he leaves, hoping you didn’t notice the growing tent at his crotch. He heads over towards the catering tent, making a quick pitstop at the mens room, pulling a more than willing production assistant into the cubicle for a frantic fuck to relieve the aching in his cock. He comes almost embarrassingly quickly, your big, beautiful, leaking boobs at the forefront of his mind as he empties himself over the ass of Cassie, he thinks her name is. Or maybe Clara?
He mutters a thanks to her as he tucks himself away and slinks out to go and grab some food, his mind still back in his trailer. He’d already fucked you. Years ago. Before you got that big shiny rock on your finger and got yourself knocked up. It’d had been a quick desperate fuck between takes during filming for the second Cliff Beasts. You’d been a lowly production assistant then, just starting out in your career and he was already a big star. He hadn’t taken advantage of you, oh no. You’d wanted it as much as he had. But it was never anything serious. Nothing with Dieter ever was.
He’d worked with you since. Loads of times. But Dieter never went back. As with all of his dalliances it had quickly been put out of his mind and you had always been professional, even friendly with him whenever you’d worked together. And when you started working on his latest venture, as an assistant director now, shiny wedding band on your finger he thought you’d put on weight and decided it looked good on you. Just a passing thought. Nothing more. Even when you started to show as your pregnancy progressed he didn’t give you a second thought. But fuck, seeing your tits today had wakened something in him. Watching the little spurts of milk into the pump. Fuck he was getting hard again. He needs to have you again. Needs to suck on those tits, taste that milk.
He fills a couple of plates with a variety of food from the catering tables, knowing there are rules about what pregnant women can eat but having absolutely no idea what they are. He hurries back to his trailer and knocks this time, waiting for your ok to enter.
When he does you’re just packing away your pump, your chest sadly fully covered again.
“Here, I brought you some food.”
You smile at him shyly, clearly still embarrassed about what happened. “Thanks Dieter, but I should let you have your trailer back, I’ve already taken enough advantage of you.”
“Nonsense,” he says gently guiding you back to your seat on the sofa and placing the plates next to you. “Wasn’t sure what you’re allowed to eat so I just got a selection.”
Your smile is more relaxed now. “Thank you Dieter, that’s so kind of you. I really am sorry about before, I promise it won’t happen again.”
“You, um, you have to do this often?” he asks, waving at the bag containing your pump.
You nod, “yeah at least once a day, though its hard to find somewhere private to do it.”
“I didn’t think you started making milk til after the baby arrived?” he asks, trying to keep the conversation going while he mulls over the best way to get you in his lap and your tits in his mouth.
You nod your head as you pick a sandwich off the plate, “mmm, it’s quite common for it to start before, though not always to this level. Had to get permission off the doctor to express but it hurts so much if I don’t.”
He pouts sympathetically at you, “well you’re always welcome to use my trailer, whenever you need.”
You hastily finishing chewing your mouthful of sandwich and swallow, “Dieter, I couldn’t ask you to do that.”
“You didn’t ask, I offered and I’m happy to help.”
Tears fill your eyes, and you launch yourself at him, wrapping him in a tight hug and sobbing thanks into his ears. “You’re so kind Dieter, thank you so much.” The feel of your ripe, full titties pressing into his chest has him coming in his boxers. It’s all he can do to stop himself from moaning. Instead he just pats you on the back and starts thinking about how he can turn this to his advantage.
The next day he’s already hard when you timidly knock on his trailer door. Thankfully his costume is loose enough around his groin to hide his boner. The joy of a historical drama. He thinks the Romans might have been on to something with these comfy togas. He smiles at you and lets you in. Makes small talk for a few minutes before excusing himself, “I’ll leave you to it, just drop me a text when you’re done and I’ll bring some food for you.”
“Oh Dieter you don’t have to do that,” you tell him with a genuine smile. You’re enjoying his attention and it makes him leak.
“Nonsense, I was reading up on it, breastfeeding expends a lot of calories, you need to keep your strength up,” he tells you with a wink.
You can’t stop the giggle that escapes you, you can’t believe how sweet he’s being. The thought of Dieter reading up on breastfeeding is hilarious to you. You relent and nod your head, “you’re right, thank you Dieter, that’s so kind.”
He gives you that lopsided smile and departs as you settle yourself on the sofa. He’s more prepared this time, heading straight to meet his arranged hook up in the make up trailer. Jessie has big, plush breasts that he can pretend are yours as he buries his face in them while he buries his cock in her sopping pussy,
He leaves her as she’s wiping his cum off her thighs, making his way to the catering tent to plate you up some food. Back at his trailer he hands you the plate, stacked high with meat and cheese, “google said high protein food while you’re producing breast milk,” and a bowl of fruit for afterwards, for the vitamins. He sits too close to you while you eat and asks you questions. Questions you never thought you’d hear out of Dieter Bravo’s mouth. He seems so genuinely curious and he’s been so kind and supportive that you don’t hesitate to answer, telling him “no, it doesn’t hurt to pump but they get really sore if they get too full,” “I’m freezing all the milk for when the baby arrives,” “it’s normal to get a little leakage before giving birth but my milk has come in early.”
You even let him touch your belly to feel the baby kick. You’re so enthralled by how gently he caresses you, how excited he gets every time he feels the baby move that you fail to notice the hunger in his eyes as he stares at your belly and tits, the way his cock twitches under his toga at having you in his hands. When he hits on you, you just laugh it off, thinking he’s just being his usual silly self. You never for a second take him seriously. Dieter can and does fuck anyone he wants, there’s no way he’d seriously consider fucking a pregnant woman who’s the size of a house when there’s a bevy of young guys and gals just gagging to fuck him. Still, you revel in his attention, lapping up his compliments.
This goes on for days. Him fucking his way through the crew before coming back to you in his trailer. Every day ends with his hands on your swollen belly while he tries to think of a way to sneak of bottle of milk out of your bag. He’s desperate to taste it. He knows it will be so sweet.
He starts keeping tabs on you outside of your little visits as well. He’s not stalking you. Just keeping a friendly eye out. Making sure you’re ok. It’s on one of these ‘not spying’ occasions while he’s lurking outside one of the production trailers that he overhears you sobbing to one of your friends.
“He won’t even touch me anymore and I’m so horny!” Your little sobs and hiccups are enough to break his heart.
“What, he won’t? Did he say why?”
“Said it feels weird, that the baby can hear us and it makes him…unable to perform.”
“Well that’s dumb. It’s not like the baby has any clue what they’re hearing, or will even remember it.”
“It’s probably just an excuse, look at me, I’m the size of a whale. I wouldn’t want to sleep with me either,” you wail.
“You’re not the size of a whale. And you’re fucking glowing, pregnancy looks good on you.”
He hears you sniffle. “You know I read somewhere that men are statistically more likely to cheat when their partner is pregnant. What if he’s already found someone else?”
“I’m sure he hasn’t honey, men are just a bit stupid when it comes to pregnancy, try talking to him again, I’m sure he’ll come round.”
Dieter has always known your husband was an idiot. One of those big studio hotshots who had always looked down his nose at him, as if it wasn’t Dieter’s face, Dieter’s art that had paid for that big fancy office he worked in. But now, knowing that he was refusing to tend to your needs when you were hurting and so ripe for the plucking? It made Dieter’s blood boil.
So when that schmuck started turning up on set, ‘to make sure things were running to schedule,’ and your little visits to Dieter’s trailer got put on hold, it was all Dieter could do not to punch the smug bastard square in the face.
You’d been gentle in letting Dieter down, “I’m not sure Brad would like it, me using your trailer to pump. I’ll just do it in the ladies room.”
“That doesn’t seem like it would be hygienic or comfortable, surely he wants what’s best for you and the baby, right? Especially now that you’re so close to your due date.”
And he sees it, the little hesitation, like it’s the first time you’ve considered the fact that his not prioritising you was an asshole move, especially in your condition. You brush it off but Dieter can see he’s planted a seed in you. Now he just needs to find a way to capitalise.
He’s convinced himself that, as he’s already been inside you once before, you sleeping with him wouldn’t really be cheating. He just needs to convince you of the same. And especially if your dickhead of a husband isn’t tending to your needs then it makes sense to outsource that task to someone more willing.
But he’s not sure how he will ever convince you. He tries to set your husband up, telling some of the girls in the ensemble that sleeping with Brad is going to help their career. In reality he’s nowhere near important enough to impact on casting decisions, but he works at the studio and wears a fancy suit and walks around with an entirely unjustified sense of authority that they buy it easily enough. And rumours spread so quickly on a film set, if anything happens you know it will get back to you in a matter of hours. And they’re young and beautiful and sinfully tempting, but Brad shoots them down and dismisses them without a second thought. Which pisses Dieter off even more, because who the hell does he think he is, pissing all over the dreams of two lovely young women? Dieter fucks them both silly to cheer them up. But it’s still your face in his mind when he sprays both their faces with his spend.
In the end Dieter resigns himself that it’s never going to happen. He’s horny and depressed, and gets more difficult on set, refusing to go to hair and make up, lounging in his trailer in his boxers and fuzzy green robe, dreaming of you.
When he gets a knock on the door he yells out, “I already told you, I’m not acting today, my muse has left me, I can’t perform today, leave me alone!”
It’s then he hears a small, wobbly, “Dieter,” through the door. It’s you. And you sound so sad. He rushes to let you in. You’re crying when he lets you in, he wraps an arm around you and guides you to the sofa.
“Hey, tell me what’s wrong, are you ok? The baby?”
You take a shaky breath, “I’m ok really, I’m sorry to come here like this, I just didn’t know where else to go and I hate crying in public and I’m just being silly really, I can leave if it’s a problem.”
You’re talking a mile a minute and Dieter can’t get a word in edgeways. Not that he’s complaining. You’re here. It’s just the two of you and you being sad is honestly good news for him. Emotional women are so…pliable.
“Tell me what happened.”
“My pump broke.”
“Oh,” Dieter’s eyes light up as his gaze drops to your chest. You don’t notice, your eyes fixed on your hands as you wring them in your lap. You’re so embarrassed but Dieter has been so kind to you and you’re so upset and you just want someone to comfort you.
“I spoke to Brad about it, he said that I could just wait and go and pick up a new one after work and I told him I was so sore and and he asked what I expected him to do about it. And we got in a fight. I’m sorry Dieter, I’m such a mess, the hormones are driving me crazy and my boobs are so sore.”
“Shhh now, it’s ok, you did the right thing to come here.” He pulls you into his arms and holds you close, stroking up your arm. He’s already hard.
“He makes me feel like such a burden sometimes, I feel like I’m in this all by myself.”
“You’re not honey, you have me don’t you?’ he teases. You chuckle into his chest and take a big deep breath. You honestly never expected your go to confident to be Dieter fucking Bravo. But he’s showed up more for you in the last few weeks than your own husband.
He shifts and his chest presses more firmly into yours and he feels you wince in his arms.
“Oh honey, that’s no good, can’t have you walking around in so much pain.”
“It’s ok. Will just have to do like Brad says and go and buy a new pump after work.”
“Honey, you can’t wait that long, you’re hurting. Now, lets see what we can do right now hmm,” Dieter says as he slides off the sofa onto his knees. “Let me help you.” He gently parts your legs and settles between them.
A soft, “Dieter,” slips from your mouth. It’s a warning without any fangs, you’re not sure this should be happening but you’re so sore and you just want some relief. The thought of going another 5 hours in agony, not to mention the embarrassing damp spots you can already feel soaking through your bra and dress is horrifying.
So you don’t stop him when he slides the straps of your dress down. Or when he pushes the top of it down under your boobs. You feel slightly self conscious at the ugly maternity bra you have on and reach up your arms to cover your chest, whimpering in pain when your arm grazes your tender breast.
“Oh honey, none of that now, let me take care of you.” He reaches behind you to undo your bra and once again you don’t stop him. The prospect of relief the only thought in your mind.
And when your bra is carelessly tossed aside and Dieter is staring at your chest in wonder, you thighs automatically clench, tightening around Dieter’s hips..
Magnificent. Even better than his wildest dreams. Your engorged breasts are so fucking beautiful. He wants to ravage you. But he knows you’re sore, that you need him to be gentle. And he can be. For you. For now.
He leans in and gently licks around one puffy nipple and the little whimper you let out is so pathetic it makes him pull back, but that makes you whine. And that makes Dieter’s cock leak.
He leans back in, maintaining eye contact the whole time and wraps your sensitive nipple in his mouth. He gives it another gentle little lick and then starts to suckle. He’s oh so gentle with you and it makes your needy, neglected pussy clench.
He groans into your tit as the milk starts to flow, and you throw your head back, moaning in relief as the pressures starts to ease, the vibrations from his noises oddly soothing.
And it’s ok you think, as Dieter’s huge hand comes into play, scooping up the weight of your breast and tenderly massaging you. It’s not cheating. Its not sexual, its medical. Hell, Brad had yelled at you to figure something out yourself as you left his office in tears after your fight. He can’t get mad at you for doing just that. He could have offered to do this for you, you gave him every opportunity.
Having settled it in your mind you relax into it, your hand coming up to cradle Dexter’s blissed out face. His eyes are closed and he looks so serene as his lips work at your nipple, milk dribbling into his scruffy beard as your thumb strokes at his cheek. He hums and grunts into your flesh as he sucks and sucks and sucks.
“You’re such a good boy Dieter,” you murmur, leaning down to give his forehead a soft kiss. He whines as his hips buck and you feel your panties dampen. No, that’s not what this is. You fight to keep a hold of yourself. But his mouth feels so good on you and it’s been so long since you’ve been touched and your body wants this. Needs this.
Dieter finally pulls away, sloppily slurping up the milk that’s spilled over your breast. He presses hot, open mouthed kisses over your chest, each punctuated with a word, “perfect,” kiss, “fucking,” kiss, “tittles,” kiss.
“Ow Dieter,” you cry as he takes your sore boob into his mouth, no gentleness this time. His eyes are open, pupils blown with lust as he drinks from you. Both your tits are now engulfed in his hands and you’re a mess, milk all over your chest, soaking into your dress. And he looks feral. His hand abandons your chest as his tongue swirls around your nipple to sneak behind you and roughly pushes your crotch forward so your clothed seam makes contact with his belly. And now the pain is fully subsidising and you feel your clit pulse with every needy suck. You’re completely breathless, still not even really sure how you ended up here. But your body is crying out for a release and you don’t even notice as your hips start to gently grind against his torso.
But Dieter does. And he’s going insane. Finally getting his mouth on you. Gorging himself on your sweet milk. He does’t want to move, doesn’t want to startle you lest you realise how shamelessly you’re rutting against him. You’re nearly there he can tell. And he needs it. That’s his window of opportunity and he’s not going to waste it. With his other hand he starts to softly strum at your nipple with his thumb as he continues to massage and squeeze. He pushes himself harder against your core and gently grazes the nipple in his mouth with his teeth.
It’s like a bomb detonates in your pelvis. It’s been months since you last had an orgasm, your husband too much of a prude since you started showing and your belly making it to too hard to reach yourself. Your head flies backwards, forcing more of your tit into Dieters mouth, you don’t even register his muffled grunt. Your pelvis continues rocking of it’s own accord. You moan and groan and your body slumps backwards onto the sofa, too lost in the pleasure of your peak to notice the way Dieter yanks you forward by your hips, the way he’s pushing your panties aside. The little praising grumbles that fall from his mouth about how pretty you look when you come as he lines himself up at your entrance.
It isn’t until he starts pressing inside that your mind snaps back to reality.
“No, Dieter! Ugh,’ you grunt as he buries himself completely, greedy hands tight at your hips.
“Fuuuuuuuuuuuvk,” he moans, hastily gathering your knees in the crook of his elbows and ploughing into you again and again.
“Fucking, grippy little cunt, needed to be back inside her.”
“Oh fuck Dieter, no! We can’t.”
“We can baby, we already are. She needs this, feel how good she’s taking me, she’s desperate baby, let her have this.”
“Fuck, Dieter, ohhhhhh, fuck! Oh shit! Dieter!”
His thrusts are relentless, pulling almost all the way out and slamming back in, aiming upwards to have the head of his steely hard cock brushing your g spot with every intrusion, your lower legs bouncing in his arms with every movement.
“Tell me how good it feels baby, c’mon.” You moan as you feel that heat coiling in your belly. “C’mon baby tell me.”
You’re so close, you feel it building and building and then nothing. He pushes deep and stops his thrusts, grinding into you with little pulses instead, you feel his heavy balls tickling your backside with each gentle roll. It’s not enough and you feel your high fizzling out. You can’t stop the tears of disappointment.
“Tell me what you want baby, you want me to stop hmm? Want me to pull out and walk away?”
The thought of it is devastating. And he knows it. You sob, “please Dieter, make me come, feels so good.”
“You need it don’t you baby?”
“Yes, yes I need it Dieter please!”
“Yeah, whose cock is making you feel good?”
“Yours Dieter, yours, please!”
“That’s right baby, Dieter’s taking care of you,” he growls and resumes his merciless pace. You feel his thick girth splitting you open and you wish you could see it but your belly is too big. You’re breathless and moaning and Dieter is still talking.
“Hmm good girl, being so good for me. Letting me suck those perfect titties, fucking made to be in my mouth. And this tight fucking pussy, Jesus baby, been dreaming about this.”
You surrender to it. Just lie back and take everything he gives you. You focus on how good your body feels, the pleasure that is building again. And he’s right. You do need it. You needed this so badly. And it’s Brad’s fault. If he’d kept you satisfied you would have been able to resist. If he’d helped when you asked you would never have come to Dieter in the first place.
The wet thwack of skin on skin, your combined moans as Dieter pounds relentlessly into you must be audible from outside the trailer. As it must be visible the way it sways in time with his thrusting. But it’s not unusual for Dieter’s trailer. As long as no one sees you leave it should be fine. You’re way past surrender. You give yourself permission to enjoy it.
“Fuck Dieter, you feel so good.”
“Oh fuck baby, yeah, tell me.”
“You’re so big Dieter, I feel so full. Don’t stop, please don’t stop.”
“Fuck baby, you’re such a good girl.”
He leans forward, arching over your belly to give you an uncoordinated kiss. It’s messy as hell, but you get a good taste of your milk on his tongue and a good amount of it smeared over your chin from his beard. It’s delicious. You’re an absolute mess of bodily fluids, top half covered in milk and tears and saliva, bottom half smeared in the mixture of slick and Dieter’s pre-cum that slides out of your stretched hole.
He pulls back up, pulling one of your legs up to rest on his shoulder. With his hand now free he lifts your dress up over your big belly. The sight of it drives him wild. Releasing something primal within him. Even though it’s not his baby, seeing you like this makes him want to drag you back to his cave and fight anyone who dares try to take you from him. He rests his warm palm over the swell of your tummy, so delicate in contrast with the way he is destroying your pussy. And that does it. You go careening off the edge like a little lemming off a mountain. Your pussy clenches and pulses and Dieter has to fight not to lose it immediately. He knows how bad you need this and he promised to take care of you. He keeps fucking you, prolonging your high while desperate for his own. You give him the sweetest moans and gasps he’s ever heard, your gorgeous chest heaving, and still leaking, as you suck in lungfuls of air, in time with your pussy sucking in his cock. It’s the best fuck of his life. And he has plenty to compare it to.
He brings his thumb down to your clit, your body jerks in overstimulation and he smirks. He’s fucking ruined you. He’s so proud of himself. He rips himself from your juicy cunt leaving you whining at the sudden loss. He appeases you by shoving 3 of his fat fingers into you while still circling your clit. With his other hand he strokes himself, aiming himself carefully and exploding over where you’re nestling another mans baby inside you.
The thick streaks of warm cum splattering over your pregnant belly combined with the brutal fingering he’s giving you breaks you apart once more.
“Mmmmm yeah baby, just like that, good girl,” he praises as you wail. Louder than you think you ever have before. He works you through you third orgasm, more gentle now.
You flop on the sofa, your body exhausted and boneless. You’re panting through your recovery, your heart racing, your body unaccustomed to such a work out these days.
And when you come back to your senses Dieter’s hands are back on you. One on each side of your belly, thumbs gently stroking your skin, his eyes fixated on where he painted you in his cum. And he looks so soft and sweet. The wild man that just railed you into next week has retreated, satiated and appeased.
And it makes you melt. It shouldn’t. You should be angry. You should be disgusted. With yourself and him. But all you feel is satisfied and exhausted. Your tits don’t hurt anymore. Your pussy is no longer aching with want, instead aching from the gratifying stretch of his cock. You feel the best you have in months.
So when Dieter leans down to kiss over the white streaks decorating your skin, you sigh dreamily and run your fingers through his soft curls. He groans at the contact and it makes you chuckle. He kisses his way back to your tits, scooping his cum up as he goes, He wraps his lips back around a nipple and gently sucks, drawing yet another moan from you. Making your pussy clench, again.
And then he’s moving again, up to your lips, shoving his tongue into your mouth along with the witches brew of his cum and your milk. And you take it eagerly, letting him sloppily fuck your mouth with his tongue.
He finally pulls back and helps you to your feet. Your body feels like it doesn’t work anymore and you stumble. He catches you and steadies you and walks you over to the full length mirror. You take yourself in. Completely wrecked. You look positively debauched. Your face tear streaked, your dress bunched around your middle, your leaking breasts and marked up belly on full display, your slick glistening on the inside of your thighs.
“Mmm, beautiful,” Dieter murmurs behind you, his fingers now rubbing the remnants of his cum into your skin as he kisses up your neck. He spins you and backs you up against the mirror to kiss you properly. “Can’t send you back out there like this baby, you want to take a shower with me?” he asks, the hope evident in his voice.
And what else can you do. You definitely can’t go back to work like this. “Sure.”
He grins dopily at you, “amazing!”
Predictably, he fucks you again in the shower. Your back pressed against the wall, one of your legs held in the crook of his arm while he mouths greedily at your tits. It’s slow and sensual and you come twice more, pulsing around his cock in delicious little waves. And he pushes deep to unload himself inside you this time and pulls off your breast with a loud belch, his tummy rounded and full, almost a mockery of your own.
He sneaks you out of his trailer, making sure the coast is clear before ushering you out and back to the production trailer. And it’s not until Brad stops by an hour or so later with a new pump, a bunch of flowers and an apology that the guilt sets in.
“I’m so sorry honey. I was being a jerk. I got you two pumps actually, so you can leave one here and have one at home. Can you forgive me?”
“Of course,” you tell him with a shaky smile, pulling him into a hug even as you feel Dieter’s cum leaking out of you. You’re a terrible person. And when he promises you a ‘special’ evening with a waggle of his eyebrows you feel sick to your stomach.
The guilt is eating you alive. But it doesn’t stop you faking a headache later on to stop your husbands advances. It doesn’t stop you putting the brand new pump in your desk drawer unopened the next day. It doesn’t stop you seeking Dieter out. It doesn’t stop you taking his outstretched hand and following him back to his trailer. It doesn’t stop you undressing and climbing into his lap. It doesn’t stop you impaling yourself on his cock and riding him into oblivion while he suckles. Because really, this is still all Brad’s fault.
For the first time in nearly two years, I got a commission slot from @miranhas-art - I've worked with her several times before, but I hadn't felt the call to request something from her in a long time. However, "Black Sky" got such a great reception that I wanted to see our dear Dr. Shen and his lady love in her style.
For this drawing, we chose to have John's lady be of Chinese ancestry, using Li Jun Li for facial reference, so for the purposes of this photo, I imagine her name to be Grace. In the story, her race and name are not specified. The image description will have more detail.
pairing : colin zabel x toxic gf!reader [18+ MDNI.]
𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚ angsty smut. drunk intercourse. fingering. protected p in v. reader is a huge asshole. and is mean to colin. colin has a slight degradation kink. hurt with very little comfort. word count : 1.3k
"We can't."
Maybe you're drunk, maybe it's half past 2 in the morning, maybe he's five inches away from your face.
"Of course we can."
Of course he says that. He looks far too condescending than normal, if he were any drunker. Those brown eyes gazed at you with too much adoration compared to what you're normally used to with past lovers. The night started with a shot or two, then harmless teasing, then his hand on your thigh, going up up up just on the apex where leg meets torso.
No more questions. You were wasted enough to put your trust on an equally wasted Colin to drive you back home in his car. You dragged him up the stairs of his apartment with wobbly steps, where you locked lips immediately as soon as the door shuts behind you. His nimble fingers had found your underwear, tugging them down to fit his hand between fabric and the mound below your belly.
Back to present, where his middle finger was slipping through your soaking folds and spreading the arousal that had accumulated during the time at the bar, you were already losing conviction.
Your eyes meet his again, dark and runny with the mascara applied hours ago. "God, Colin. If you're gonna put your hand in my panties at least work up the nerve to finger me already."
Colin, ever so obedient and ever so eager to outdo, gives you a pathetic expression before pressing the pad of his finger inside you. Before you could give him another unbothered quip meant to break down his ego, Colin buries his middle finger further until he was knuckle deep in your walls, long digits pressing into the spot you could never quite reach.
"Is that all?" you have the nerve to ask, holding onto the sleeves of his jacket.
"You're so mean to me..." Colin fights back, although he slips in a second digit, working up a proper rhythm when he starts curling his fingers. He's done this enough times at this point. In arguments in which you'd do rounds of shouting, he shows penance by pleasuring your pussy while murmuring apologies in your ear.
"It pays off, baby." your lips are so close to his ear, arms pulling him near until you're chest-to-chest. Colin swallows a lump in his throat, feeling your breasts press up against him.
"See? You're screwing me with your fingers so well now."
If Colin saved up a dollar every time he was turned on when you insulted him, he'd have enough money to buy that camera stuck in his Amazon wish list since last year.
His wrist was beginning to hurt, but Colin wouldn't say that to you now, not when you were writhing and grabbing unto him like you needed him as much as he did. The louder the moans, the better, which correlated with how wet his hand sounded the more they drove into your pussy.
"Like thaaat—" you would draw out, one hand on the back of his head.
Colin would attempt to go faster, try to push his fingertips deeper. But you tap the back of his shoulder where you'd just been grabbing at.
"Can't." you sounded dazed, pulling away to look at his face. "I need your cock in me now."
Colin swears he's vulgar if needed, but his girl always has him beat in the most ridiculous ways possible.
"O-Okay." he says, slipping his fingers out. You drag his other hand to the bedroom while he licked your essence from his digits.
His body feels heavy and hot, both from the beer and you. In the next sharp moment he's hovering over your body in his own bed, his girlfriend pulling him down for a sloppy kiss.
He's helping you out of your underwear, the garment is pushed past your knees, then your ankles, until Colin throws it somewhere on the floor. Your lips depart from his just as quickly as they met.
"Babe," you tapped his shoulder, "..condom."
"Yeah, yeah." he replied, pressing a tender kiss to the side of your head when already he's reaching for the nightstand.
You watched him, legs spread on his hips with your skirt bunched up at the waist. You delightfully witness him pull down his slacks, holding himself like a python as his teeth ripped open the condom wrapper he fished out the drawer.
Colin hides his shame by burying his face in your neck, far too shy to see your eyes on him as he slipped the rubber on his length.
"I know that face." you purr in his ear, rubbing the back of his neck. The tip of his cock knocks against your cunt.
"What?" he asked, nose pressed against your clavicle.
"You're shy."
It's ridiculous how well you take him, Colin thinks to himself as he slips inside.
"No, I'm not..." he testified, holding your hips steady the more he presses in. You hate waiting, he reminds himself. Although the passion you brought with you was intoxicating, he missed how sweet you used to be with him.
He wonders what happened for things to end up like this.
Colin starts to thrust, maybe to silence his own thoughts and to please his girl. It starts with trained rolls of his hips, pants pulled down to his knees, then he pulls you in against his crotch to match his thrusting.
"Baby," you call to him, hand smoothing over where his chest was exposed. "Did you drink too much?"
Colin blinks, "What..? No.."
"...Then why aren't you fucking me harder?"
In the moment, it's hot. It's supposed to be hot. Colin bites his lip, arms propped up against the bed as he does what was requested. But even when you actually start to moan beneath him, his heart feels tight. The breath of life you exhaled isn't enough to quench the thirst in his heart. He craves it, just once more, that you'd make love like this. Same position, same context, save for your hands wrapped around him like he mattered with you telling him you love him.
Colin, as always, is but a fool.
"Ah... I love you..." he groans while pistoning his cock deeper into you. In some other context, you'd pull him down for a chaste kiss and whisper it back.
Staring down, you're grabbing at the sheets instead, back arching to his thrusts. "God, yes—Harder!"
Colin, ever the fool he is, fucks his girlfriend while you can't even look him in the eyes, not even when he's pressed your foreheads together. He wasn't sure how distance could be so visible, or if there really was distance. How drunk was he?
"Baby... please—baby.." your moans could only do so much, heart pounding in his ribs, just wanting to skip over the part where you cuddle with him and sleep in his arms.
And to think he was the one who suggested sex in the first place.
Colin tries not to finish prematurely, at least not before his dick rails the juices out of you. Squirting on his sheets, you scream loud enough for him to receive another complaint from the neighbors the next day.
When you go limp, Colin tries to chase his own orgasm, grip on your hips bruising as he jackhammers you into cumming, finishing inside with stuttering thrusts as he moans out that he just loves you so much.
Like most nights, he's tired after it. You help him get rid of the condom, the he uses the last of his energy to undress himself to not be uncomfortable when he falls asleep. He does the same for you too, helping you out the dress he swears is in his favorite color, even when he doesn't really have one.
Colin holds you tightly that night. His head feels heavy but his chest lightens when you curl up on him like he was your pillow, cheek pressed to one of his pecs.
"Good night.. I love you." he murmurs into the night, one hand on your head to kiss your temple.
You mumbled just to say he was heard, and before you surrender to the pull of slumber, you whisper it back for a consolation prize:
"..I love you too."
And Colin allows himself to fall asleep.
I'm so sorry yall. I'll write them making up soon I promise. I'm tagging @lil-dead-dove here hehe
Feb 2026 UPDATE: Passed the House again. Tell your Senators to block it.
March 2026 UPDATE: Republican senators try to force a vote.
THE BILL | EASY ACTION: 5calls /resistbot
It would require in person voter registration with birth certificates or passports that match your current name. This would unfairy impact BIPOC voters, plus:
Up to 69 million women whose names changed.
Trans Americans whose names changed.
Disabled Americans with limited mobility.
DV survivors who can't safely access their docs.
Rural Americans who'd have to drive hours.
Immigrant citizens not originally born here.
Working Americans lacking time off to register.
Those who can't afford or get passports.
Americans with executive dysfunction.
Trans and nonbinary people needing passports.
REPUBLICANS LOVE VOTER SUPPRESSION. It always helps them and hurts the rest of us. They know this. In 2025, they blocked ammendments aimed at protecting voting rights of eligible citizens. The GOP is afraid of fair elections. Spread the word, make some noise. Let's hold these cowards accountable. And pls take care of yourself 💙
Feel like this might have gotten lost in all the tumblr update nonsense. Please call your representatives about the Save Act. This is blatant voter suppression from a scared Donald Trump. He doesn’t want these elections to go ahead fairly, you need to fight him on every front!
Victor Gideon x female!reader
18+ only • Size kink • Dry humping • Choking • teasing • oral fixation • Mdni
As you stood behind Victor's desk in his office, typing on the laptop looking for research about Elpis, a tall shadow looms over your frame and huge hands slide beside the laptop. Sweat drips down your neck and heart quickens with adrenaline. You could feel Victor's hot breath on your neck and his teeth nibble your ear making your body ache with need.
Trying to focus on the work he's asked you to do, he slides his hand around your throat from behind and starts to grind himself into your backside. You couldn't believe how big his hand was, literally covering your whole neck. Victor was so big, not just his hand or his size but the thing that was growing in his pants made you want him more.
Victor smirked and whispered "fuck it" and closed the laptop down and pushed it to the side. He lifted you up onto the desk and opened your legs with his big strong hands. Snake tongue licked over his lips eyeing your wet spot on your panties thinking of the many ways of eating you out. Dropping to his knees Infront of you his thumb ran over your wetness making you bite your lip in anticipation.
He loved seeing you like this, needy and in need of being devoured. As Victor opened his mouth a long snake like tongue ran up your thigh moving towards where you wanted it. He inhaled the intoxicating scent from the heat that was growing between your legs. With a smirk he ran his tongue over the wet spot making your legs shake.
As victor got busy between your legs, he slide two fingers into your mouth wishing it was something much bigger.
Kai anderson x wife!reader • smut, violence, kissing, drug/alcohol use, soft sex, cw semi incestuous line • word count 1.4k • a/n: anon requested this AGES ago but I hope y’all enjoy! Also I PROMISE it’s fluffy, it’s just. also Kai. 😳
“My lamb,” he whispers when he finally pulls back for air, gasping quietly as he tries to lock his unfocused eyes onto your face. “Forgive me…”
He kisses the faint bruise on your cheek, in the shape of his hand, almost in reverence as he reaches inside his drawers and lets his cock nudge at your clit. You jerk underneath him at the touch, heart hammering. Is he really going to fuck you like this? In his sister’s bed?
gorgeous mood board @aurorawritestoescape thank you sm baby🥹💕💕💕
18+ mdni, explicit warnings in each part
a/n: this idea has been in my mind for some time and I’m finally ready to post the first fic — “Wrath”
It will be a collection of 7 unrelated stories, based on each of the seven deadly sins, with different P-boys (and Tommy?) and readers. I have some ideas for the other 6 but nothing definitive
If you have any, please feel free to send them to me 🙏 I can't promise I'll write them (writer's block keeps harassing me 😒) but it might help 🥰
✃ pt. 6 • no ghosts!Tate Langdon x Violet Harmon • angst, slow burn, dark fic, dead dove • 4k word count • warnings: rape/noncon themes, grooming, age gap, violence • read on ao3 • for @toxicanonymity 🖤🩷 masterlist • a/n: thx @asher1440 for making me bite the bullet and post again ily boo :3
“I hope you’re happy with yourself.” The smell of smoke clung to Tate even as he spritzed himself with another spray of cologne. Sometimes he had to check it wasn’t a real cigarette sitting out and burning the house down— though the imaginary scent usually also smelled of burnt flesh; an itching reminder of exactly what his mother had done to him since he was a little blond baby boy.
“I am,” he responded cheekily, checking himself out in the mirror again, running his hands over his freshly shaved face, humming quietly. “Thanks for asking.”
His mother scoffed hard, dropping some ashes into his dresser and he frowned down at the mess.
“You think you can control yourself? You know exactly what kind of seed you come from, the fruit you sow won’t be nearly as pure as you’re pretending to be, Tate.” Her voice was incessant, irritating and grating as Tate sighed harshly and blinked several times forward.
“I’m doing fine,” he said, struggling to hold back a bitter word. Addy was humming idly on his bed, playing with the hem of her dress— she didn’t deserve to hear yet another fight between her mother and brother. “It’s been a month and I haven’t touched her. Either of them.”
Constance chuckled. “Her,” she echoed. “You were talking about the girl, weren’t you?”
“Mom, please,” Tate sighed, shutting his eyes. “I’m trying… really hard. I want to be her friend.”
“And you want to rape her mother.” Constance took a long drag from her cigarette while Tate tensed. He didn’t need to share the fact that her words went straight to his dick— it was probably obvious enough the way he was hunching over his dresser in front of the mirror, shifting in his stained work pants and trying to regulate his breathing.
“I’m not going to rape her,” he said firmly, but his voice shook gently. “Viven is—”
“Yes, yes, your backup plan,” Constance snapped, “So you’ve told me. Several times. And if the mother doesn’t want you, what then, sweetheart?” Constance batted her eyelashes, reaching out to stroke Tate’s face gently, her nails grazing his skin in a way that made his blood chill. It would look almost matronly to anyone who didn’t know them.
Tate blinked at her. “Then I’ll go back to what I did before.” He whispered it, he couldn’t even manage to lie with all of his chest anymore. He was so, so tired of pretending not to have urges. Pretending the darkness wasn’t the deepest, realest part of him.
“Hookers?” Addy piped up, looking away from her dress to smirk playfully at her brother.
Tate snapped over his shoulder, “Addy, quit eavesdropping.”
The girl just snickered. “You’re talking pretty loud if you don’t want anyone to hear you.”
“Your mongoloid sister is right,” Constance said slowly.
“Don’t call her that,” Tate said, exhausted.
His mother shifted her shoulders in a sort of shrug and took another drag. “Well,” she said suddenly. “Have fun with your friend and her mother. I’m sure this won’t end miserably.” She added an eye roll to rub it in and left the room, Addy jumping up to join Tate at the dresser, her eyes glittery and curious.
“You like Violet?” she queried.
Tate answered automatically, “No.”
Addy giggled. “Yess, you do. I see how much you go next door. Without me, too.”
Tate’s eyes flickered as a smile turned his lips upward, a thought forming. “Would you rather me bring her here so you can see her?” he asked quietly, hoping his mother wouldn’t hear and try to put a stop to his fun before it had even begun.
Addy’s whole face lit up and she bounced on her toes. “Um, yes?” she squealed. “I could have a friend!”
“You can’t bother us,” Tate reminded her.
Addy swore, “I won’t, I promise. She's so pretty, I wish I looked like her.”
“Addy, you’re pretty just how you are,” he told her, leaning in to wrap his little sister in a hug, missing the warmth he felt when she was really here to hold.
She squeezed him back, still bouncing excitedly. “Well, you’re ugly,” she grinned against his chest, and Tate ruffled her hair.
“Alright, you brat, go play, I gotta get to work,” he told her, shoving her gently away.
Addy smiled wide and started for the door. “Okay, have fun! And say hi to Violet for me,” she added in a taunting, sing-songy tone.
Tate rolled his eyes and turned back to the mirror when he was certain he was alone, pushing his hair back again.
The last month since the dinner had been a shocking success. He’d been invited over for beers with Ben three times, helped Vivien with more chores than she really needed a handyman for, most of the times Ben being out or with his clients in his office, giving Tate sacred time alone with the matriarch of the home.
He hadn’t gotten any more time alone with Violet, but the two had shared more moments during dinners and passing in the halls. Tate could practically taste Violet’s paranoia about him, her unease dripping off her at every encounter.
His frustration, for maybe the first time in his life since he hit puberty, was based more in wanting to gain her trust rather than purely sexual. Plenty of what he felt was still sexual, of course, but he had plans to deal with that soon enough. He palmed the front of his pants for a second, breath catching as a flash of Violet flicked through his mind, quickly replaced with Vivien as he forced his thoughts to calm. He was in control. No matter what his mother said. He could prove her wrong. Just this once.
The man pushed off the dresser and grabbed his baseball cap, slipping it on over his messy hair and hauling his tool belt around his hips, his bag slung over his shoulder as he made sure his flannel covered his wrists.
The air outside was cool, biting, and Tate wondered if he needed a beanie more than his cap, but he was halfway to his truck when he realized he wasn’t alone. And this was no ghost haunting him, now.
Violet stood at the end of the driveway, glaring down at her phone and adjusting her satchel over her shoulder in clear irritation. Tate glanced at his watch. He was already late for his first job that day.
But what would five more minutes hurt?
He crossed the lawn to meet Violet at the front, his heart skipping beats as he caught her eye and saw them light up, no smile though.
He lifted a hand in greeting and raised his brows. “Morning,” he said, loudly enough to get her parents' attention if they were near any open windows of the house.
Violet noticed his volume and wrinkled her nose. “Hey,” she said slowly. “What are you doing?”
Tate shrugged slightly. “Work. I’m an old man, remember? I don’t have parents to mooch off of anymore.” He smirked and Violet narrowed her eyes. Maybe that was the wrong thing to say this morning.
“I don't mooch off of them,” Violet argued. “And you are old.” She glanced up and down his body with a small scoff, but Tate caught the glimmer of curiosity in her golden irises as she looked back at her phone.
“Well, what are you doing, then, if you’re not mooching?” Tate countered. “You finally get a job? You know killing rats is messy but it pays big bucks.” Violet looked up at him in mild disgust and Tate grinned crookedly, waggling his brows until Violet smiled.
“No,” she snapped, tone agitated but the gentle curve of her pink lips said otherwise. “I have to go to fucking college.” She sighed. “It’s not the classes I mind, it’s just having to take the damn bus.” She looked back down at her phone for a second and lifted it to gesture. “I was trying to call a cab but they’re even more expensive… such bullshit.”
Tate blinked, sucking his teeth. “Ah, yeah,” he agreed. “Sucks. M’sorry.”
Violet shrugged again, but the weight on her shoulders was clear. It made Tate’s stomach ache; he wanted to pull it off of her and lay her back and hold her until she didn’t feel so heavy. Until her eyes closed and her breathing slowed and her smile stayed cemented in blue tinged lips.
“Not your fault,” Violet mumbled, looking back to the road, her eyes rimmed red as she took a deep breath.
Tate hooked his thumb into his belt loop and glanced back toward the house pointedly. “Hey,” he started. “I could give you a ride.”
Violet perked up, trying to hide it with half lidded eyes and a small, “Huh?”
Tate nodded toward the house. “I mean, I’d ask your parents, obviously,” he said quick, “But yeah, it’s just across town, right?”
“I mean— yeah, it is,” Violet started, “but you don’t have to do that—”
“I know I don’t have to,” Tate smiled. “If I didn’t want to, I wouldn’t have offered. You’re a good kid, and I hate to see you miss out on an opportunity like that because you can’t afford a cab.”
Violet’s face turned a soft shade of pink and Tate had to pretend not to notice.
“It’s just school,” Violet said anyway.
Tate shifted. “It’s just your first taste of freedom from your parents,” he reasoned, looking up through his lashes to try and gauge Violet’s reaction. “Isn’t that worth something?”
Violet pursed her lips in thought, brow furrowed as she fought a wider smile. “I guess, yeah.”
“Come on,” Tate urged, nodding toward the house again. “Let’s go ask. Couldn’t hurt, and I’m on my way out anyway.”
The girl wrung her hands before tucking her phone away in her pocket decisively. “Well if you fucking insist,” Violet said with an eye roll, but her appreciation was clear. Tate had to smother his grin as he blinked warmly at her and started for the house, his eyes pinned to the front door. He had to play it cool if he ever wanted to—
To what? Get close enough to Violet to do something to her?
He swallowed hard. He worried too often that his mother was right. That he was simply predisposed to consume and destroy.
Maybe he could be honest, now, though. Be kind, be a friend to Violet, and nothing more. His mouth filled with saliva at the thought of Vivien, however, as he knocked on the door.
“Just go in,” Violet said briskly.
Just go in. That’s what he’d been planning, anyway. It wasn’t like Vivien would stop him. She was practically begging for it every time they had a moment alone… it was only a matter of time, now…
Tate’s heart leapt into his throat as the door fell open under his hand, none other than Ben Harmon standing before him. He had a poorly hidden flask in his jeans pocket— Tate ignored it.
“Tate,” he greeted him somewhat hesitantly, clearly surprised. “What’s got you over here so early? Violet causing trouble again?”
Violet turned away and it took everything in Tate not to snarl like a chained dog at her asshole father.
He smiled complacently. “Nope, not this time!” he joked lightly. “I was actually just heading out to a job across town, thought I’d offer to give Violet a ride to college.” He tipped his chin upward, waiting for Ben to come up with a reason to tell him no.
Ben’s brow furrowed but he remained smiling cautiously. “That’s… really considerate of you, Tate, uh…”
“And listen,” Tate added, lifting his palms innocently and hoping Ben couldn’t see the nervous sweat beading on his skin, “I know I’m just your neighbor, and I like to think we’ve all become friends…” He shot Violet a friendly grin over his shoulder and Violet dropped her head so her hair fell over her eyes. “But if you and Vivien aren’t comfortable with it, I respect that 100 percent— I’m not here to push your boundaries by any means.”
Ben’s brow lost its ridge almost immediately, and Tate let out a soft breath, dropping his hands.
“Yeah,” Ben agreed gently. “I appreciate that, Tate. You’ve been a good friend to us, and I know it’s been a help to my wife that you can come and fix things in this old house when we need it.”
Tate smiled again. “‘Course.”
“Tate!” As if summoned, Vivien poked her head out the hall and grinned toward the front door, drying her hands on a kitchen rag. “What do we owe the pleasure of seeing you so early?”
Tate’s smile softened into something he could feel in his chest; warm and real, and Ben tensed, turning with a curt smile. “Tate was just offering to give Violet a ride to school,” he said slowly as Vivien approached to stand with her husband in the entryway. “I told him I appreciated him asking us permission…”
Tate snorted incredulously. “Oh of course, Ben, like I said— you guys are my friends now.” His eyes flicked over to Vivien, who was smiling sweetly down at him, and cleared his throat. “I mean— Violet is almost a grown woman, she’s old enough to make her own decisions, but I knew you two would rather know what we’re getting up to.”
Ben’s jaw clenched slightly, his eyes flickering with confusion. “Getting up to?”
“God, Dad, he’s being nice, can you not be so fucking judgemental all the time?” Violet snapped. Tate’s lip twitched. His princess in shining lace come to his rescue.
Ben glared at her. “Hey, watch your language, young lady.”
“I’m sure you know how it feels to need that kind of freedom at that age,” Tate butted in, directing his words right at Vivien. The woman’s breath hitched as he locked eyes with her, adding, “And if it can be with someone you trust, obviously that’s what I would want for my daughter.” Backing up an inch, Tate yielded to Ben’s energy and finished, “I mean— I would hope I’m someone you trust anyway.”
Ben’s chest heaved, his annoyance directed at his daughter now, but Vivien crossed her arms over her chest and said gently, “Tate, I appreciate your offer, and I think that would be a great opportunity for Violet to get some independence.”
Ben whipped his head around. “Seriously?” he asked. “Not that— Tate, I don’t want you to think I distrust you—”
“Course not,” Tate quipped.
“—but Violet is 19,” Ben continued.
“Dad. Listen to yourself.” Violet stared at him, her golden eyes teary and desperate, flecked with anger and frustration. Fuck, she was so beautiful. Tate had to look away from the intensity burning in her pale features. “I’m almost 20, I’m my own person— I just want to get out on my own, at least a little. I think I’ve earned that.”
Ben fell silent, and his eyes bore into Tate’s face, gauging his intentions. Tate knew exactly how to look in this moment, and he watched as the lie sunk into the psychiatrist’s head in real time; the lie that told a worried father ‘if Tate wanted to hurt her, he would have done it already.’
The lie every single parent loved to devour as soon as enough time had passed between meeting a stranger and letting them take their child from them. Ruin them.
Vivien laid a hand on Ben’s arm, pleading gently, “Ben. She’s a grown woman.”
Ben looked at his wife momentarily before looking back at his daughter with a conflicted frown, swallowing.
He croaked quietly, “Vi, I’m sorry. You’re just— it’s not Tate… you’re my little girl, you know? I can’t imagine anyone taking you away from me…”
“She’ll come back in one piece,” Tate swore while Violet ducked her head again. “Scout’s honor.” He meant it, too. He’d never break Violet so violently she would fall apart. He wouldn’t be able to play with her, that way.
Ben nodded firmly, emotion spilling into his eyes, wet and glossy.
“Stay safe at school,” Ben added to his daughter, and Violet reluctantly nodded, smiling abashedly.
“I’ll be fine, Dad,” she promised. “Tate’s old, but I think he can get me to school just fine.”
Vivien laughed softly, and Tate hid his lips, raising his brows hopefully. “We… all good?” he asked, gesturing between the three of them.
Ben nodded slowly while Vivien smiled. “Yeah,” the man agreed. “We’re good, Tate.”
“She’s our baby,” Vivien reminded him firmly. “We’re trusting you.”
Tate saluted cheesily, but his eyes were serious. “You don’t have to worry, Vivien,” Tate said in a low tone. “You should never hurt someone you love, and you guys are family, now.”
Ben let out a wet laugh and grabbed Tate by the front of his shirt, pulling him into a tight hug. Tate quaked under his touch but hugged him back, swallowing the panic rising in his throat at the proximity.
“Family,” Ben agreed. “I like the sound of that.”
Tate locked eyes with Vivien over Ben’s shoulder and she smiled shyly, gazing dreamily through her lashes as she murmured, “Me too.”
Tate smirked, smile growing in amusement as Violet groaned loudly.
“Ugh, you guys are so gross, can we go already? I’m gonna be late for my first class…”
Ben let go with another laugh, trying to hide his tears, and bid the two farewell as they walked back to Tate’s truck and hopped inside, waving as they departed.
Violet stayed deadly quiet as they pulled out of the driveway and started across town for the college. Tate squirmed— how was it he could be so composed in front of a pair of intimidating parents, yet a young girl with a sharp tongue had him nervously shifting in his seat?
“Sorry if I made that awkward,” Tate offered after too many minutes of nothing.
Violet continued staring out her door, golden curtains of hair falling angelically around her shoulders. “It’s always awkward with them,” she sighed. “I hate them.”
The words hit Tate hard. If that was true, this might be easier than he’d anticipated to drive a wedge between the three of them.
“They just want what’s best for you, I’m sure,” Tate reasoned anyway.
Violet laughed bitterly. “Right. They just want to control me. They know you wouldn’t touch me,” she said bluntly, surprising Tate into coughing slightly. “It’s a stupid excuse they use whenever I make a friend— oh they’re a bad influence, they’re gonna lie to you…” She wrinkled her nose in a way that made Tate’s belly flutter and she shook her head. “If you hadn’t asked to take me, they would have been grilling me when I got home— asking if you said anything ‘inappropriate’ to me.” She snorted the words but they made Tate’s heart race. He wanted to, little did any of them know.
“Geez,” he joked instead of letting his composure slip any further. “Have I been that terrible in front of you?”
Violet snapped, “No! That’s the point. They just make shit up in their heads so they can keep me in my room forever.” She glanced meaningfully over at Tate and dropped her voice slightly. “I know you’re not dangerous,” she confessed, making Tate tighten his grip on the wheel. He wished it were true. Those words were so pretty falling from her lips. Violet smiled, then, and teased, “Just weird.”
Tate snorted a lighthearted laugh. “Well, thanks, kid…” He breathed slowly before adding hesitantly, shyly, “So… I’m your friend, huh?”
Violet shrugged. Tate could feel the emotion pouring from her; raw and genuine. “If you want,” was all she said. But it was everything to Tate. He chewed the inside of his lip as he considered his response carefully.
“Well…” he started. Slow, steady. Non-invasive. Unobtrusive. “I won’t lie; I’ve never been very good at it— friendship? I mean.” He glanced at Violet and finally, finally, looked back, eyes untrusting but hopeful. Exactly the way Tate needed her to be. “But for you, I could try.”
He hoped she would smile. Swallow it hook, line and sinker. But instead the girl frowned. “Why me?” she asked. “You could be friends with anyone. You’re friends with my parents, for God’s sake.” Her chest, small and perfect, heaved gently under her clothes, begging for teeth to sink into the soft flesh. She ground out, “So why me?”
Tate didn't need to lie this time. Even without his mother and sister there, testing him, pushing him, taunting him, the words fell right out of his mouth unbidden. “Because you’re like me.” He swallowed hard. “Attracted to the darkness. Unafraid.” He glanced from the road to meet her intense gaze again. “Or was that a lie, too?”
Violet bristled, but for the first time, Tate felt her walls fall. She shifted her shoulders to face him, a confused little smile dancing over her lips. “No,” she decided. “You’re right.”
Tate smiled smally. He already knew he was right. She’d given him every answer he needed before they ever even spoke that first day in front of the Murder House.
“Just a guess.”
“Easy guess,” Violet added, a bitter streak in her tone. “Apparently I’m as easy to read by everyone as my dad…”
Tate scoffed. “You told me all that shit the first day we met,” he corrected her. “Remember?”
Violet smirked. “Maybe you'll just have to get to know me past what I said, then,” she shrugged playfully. “Maybe I am a liar.”
Tate smirked, too, pulling into the college drive and trying to ignore the sinking in his chest at the thought of saying goodbye again. He wanted to drive, and drive, and drive, and stop a million miles away. All alone. Just the two of them. He applied the break using every ounce of self control he had left— and there wasn’t much.
“Maybe I’d like to take the time to get to know you, then,” Tate agreed, the game of cat and mouse making his belly twist like a schoolboy with a crush. Which he was, in a way. In another world, maybe he was still 17 and suspended in time— most days he felt trapped in that high schooler's head, stuck in the body of a man. Salivating over fantasies in the dark of night.
Violet smiled, finally, soft and warm, like butter running over Tate’s tongue; a long needed comfort in his cold world.
“Maybe I’d like that,” she whispered.
Tate tried not to let those little words bury a fist in his gut, rattle the rib cage that imprisoned his racing heart.
Instead he nodded, watched Violet leave and make her way into the vast college, his mind racing with all the things he wanted to say but didn’t know how. All the things he could say but knew Violet was nowhere near understanding the depths of his affection for her— would not be able to contextualize his words if he were to let them spill.
He watched her go and his palm wandered down to his bulging jeans.
He would love Violet. Someday. For now, the itch to consume something soft was eating away at him. As much as he wanted to taste her immediately, Tate knew she’d be sweeter if left untouched until he couldn’t beat it any longer.
So he turned his truck around and headed back toward the Murder House. He had a staircase to fix. And someone’s mother to take his frustration out on.
Colin Zabel x wife!reader • smut, phone sex, kinky talk/thoughts(?), male masturbation, pre ejac (sorta), annoyingly confident reader • word count 1.5k • a/n: for the wonderful one and only @sunskine 🩷 love you boo I hope I did your hubby justice. sorry if he’s ooc 😭 this man is an enigma
Your voice came through the receiver again, soft and crackly as you shushed him. “Colin,” you purred, purposefully quiet so he had to hold his breath to properly hear you. “Just let me take care of you.”
Colin nodded, before he remembered you couldn’t see him and murmured a creaky, “Yeah.”
“You love me, don’t you?” you whispered, and Colin palmed himself.
“Course, baby…”
“Yeah, you do,” you continued, and Colin swallowed. “And I love you. Love you enough to be your plaything.”
Colin grunted as the words went straight to his cock, hand stuttering to tug at his zipper again. “Geez…”
Summary: Your new stepbrothers home for the summer. He’s a lot cooler, and nicer than you expected, and he’s willing to indulge you for a favour. Aka asking stepbrother Javi to take your virginity.
Warnings: 18+ only minors DNI you will be blocked. Stepcest/stepbrother trope and all that comes with, age gap [reader is 18 when she meets Javi, he’s 22], infidelity [Javi cheats on his gf not reader] rich shitty parents, mommy and daddy issues, reader is girly, plays tennis, alcohol consumption, cigarette smoking, pet-names, soft!dom!Javi?, bratty!reader?, size-kink? [Javi is bigger than reader], praise kink, fingering, grinding, “virginity” loss, pool sex, unprotected P in V [do better!!]. Let me know if I missed anything!
Word count: 9.2K Words
A/N: I AM BACK!! This has been 2 years in the making lmao but was so fun to write. Thank you to @toxicanonymity for your help on this and to everyone who has showed interest in this universe, and I really really hope you enjoy!!
Masterlist
Summertime, and the livin's easy
Bradley's on the microphone with Ras MG
All the people in the dance will agree
That we're well-qualified to represent the L.B.C
Me, me and Louie, we gonna run to the party
And dance to the rhythm, it gets harder
Surely, a new parent in the house would be a significant change for any family, but something told you it was going to be a lot more difficult in your household. To say your mother was easy to live with was certainly generous, and you didn’t exactly blame your father for wanting to walk away from a marriage as dysfunctional as theirs.
Despite being the “better parent”, however, your father was far from blameless for the turbulent split and custody battle that would ensue from their separation, and after spending a childhood stuck between the both of them, fighting to be with your “better parent” you were exhausted. Especially since that “better parent” was quite a mediocre one at that.
What you couldn’t stomach, was the fact that your father then chose to settle down with perhaps the only other person who could compete with your mothers patheticness. But you really didn’t expect much more from said “mediocre parent” if you were being honest.
When Maria came into your life you were glad you were about to leave the nest. Sure, 11th grade was made more difficult than it would have been considering you had to deal with your dad’s absence on the week nights, had to stomach him going to dinners with some random woman, had to answer said random woman’s intrusive questions and pretend you were completely fine with her waltzing into your house and making comments about how you lived, and what you should’ve and shouldn’t have been doing. Of course, after raising her golden boy– her oh so perfect son who she couldn’t shut up about, she knew best. He was at university, studying criminology, after-all.
Safe to say you were ecstatic when you were notified the two got married at the courthouse while you spent the winter with your mother. Shocked, horrified, hurt? You weren't even sure what you felt after a point. Tired, would probably be the best fit. The only saving grace was that you didn’t have to attend the ceremony.
When you learnt that Maria’s son was also not in attendance to witness the vows, you were almost certain the “spontaneous, and unplanned” union surely took your absences in mind.
There was that word again– tired.
But what could you have done? You just had to grit your teeth and focus on what mattered- getting out of that house. There was no benefit in paying attention to the antics of your “parents”, any of the three. So that’s exactly what you did, pushed through till you were walking across your graduation stage and securing a spot at the university you’d always wanted.
And so when summer came you were hell bent on recuperating after a hard few year’s work. There was nothing more you desired than relaxing, lounging by the pool, and repairing your social life– the one that you had been criminally neglecting over the past few years. All was looking good, you were rather optimistic despite having to share a house with two of the most insufferable people on the planet.
There was also this other problem you had to take care of. See, because you had spent your entire high school career being a massive nerd, you didn’t really get any. And sure, you’d made out with half a dozen jock types since the summer began, but none of them seemed to know what they were doing. You didn’t want to go to college a virgin. You were hot, single and horny, and you were not going to waste the rest of the summer on another good for nothing Zach or Cody. You needed to get laid. And it was time you started exploring other avenues.
And then, as usual, the universe threw a wrench in your plans. Or rather, your lovely stepmother did.
“My Javi’s gonna come spend the summer with us! Oh, it’ll be wonderful, you two could get to know each other! He’s got so many of his old friends from here he can introduce you to! Get you out of the house for once!!” you nodded your head as you poured your morning coffee, but on the inside you were losing your shit. First thing in the morning, she really had her ways, didn't she?
“And he's got so much insight on university, I'm sure you’d really like speaking with him about that. You know, after finishing top of his class the third year in a row, you could catch some good pointers!” You bet Javi knew all about “university”. Whatever that meant.
Life was bad enough being bothered by these two, but now you had to endure playing second fiddle to some ivy league hot shot? Yeah, sounded like a splendid time.
And you knew that’s exactly what he was. Sure, you’d only seen him in one picture, with his american sweetheart, blonde, beautiful, perfect girlfriend. Because of course he had a perfect, blonde, girlfriend.
You were surprised your stepmother didn’t shove pictures of him down your throat all day every day, but she only seemed to make reference to her son when she was bragging about him. Your mother was quite like her, so you wouldn’t be surprised if she didn't receive many pictures of him to begin with.
And of course, he was criminally good looking. Sure, you only caught his face in three quarters profile, but that's all you needed to know he was hot.
What you weren’t expecting was for him to be as hot as he was, at least. You were not prepared to see him walk through your front door– duffle bag slung over his shoulder– his broad, muscular shoulders. It was only seven in the morning and you were glad you were ready for tennis because you would have hated to receive him– in his messy, tousled hair, tight jeans and post travel glory in your pyjamas.
“Well hello.” He ran a hand through said hair as he spoke, and set his laptop on the kitchen counter where you were sipping on a morning shake. You were 99% sure you caught him sneaking a peak at your pink lacey bra where it poked out of your top.
He had this air about him– the confident jock vibe that would usually annoy you. But no no no, Javi was no cocky, overconfident high school boy. He was in university after all. If this was a sample of what college boys were like you were more than excited for the next few years ahead.
His hand laid respectfully on your back as he leaned for a hug and introduced himself. The press of his firm, warm chest against your scantily clad top had your breath hitching. Especially when he shot you that smile as he pulled away.
It definitely felt a little sacrilege to be thinking such thoughts about your stepbrother. But he was hardly that. As much as his mother liked to pretend that yours never existed, that your father and her were the perfect little couple. That you were the perfect little family– with your prestigious university placements, and picket fence house, with the high paying jobs and respect of the neighbourhood.
You never really cared about what she had to say anyway. She was irrelevant, and in more ways than one. But her son. You had decided he was the most relevant thing on the planet. In those pool shorts, those tight, thin, t-shirts that were snug in all the right places. With those arms of his. He was a piece of art– like some guy you’d have on a poster in your bedroom, who you’d dream about and wake up with a mess between your legs.
And he had to know how hot he was. How charming he was when he opened doors for women or complimented the ladies at your neighbourhood barbeque. He had to know how all the school girls in your area dropped dead like flies when he stopped by the after school fundraiser in his leather jacket and those tight, dark wash jeans.
He had to know what he was doing when he put his hand on your waist to get past you at the kitchen counter, had to know you noticed him raking his eyes over your body when the both of you lounged by the pool.
Because you sure knew what you were doing when you walked past his room, soaking wet from the rain, your transparent clothes leaving little to the imagination. You knew what you were doing when you batted your lashes at him– asked him to get your mug off the top shelf even though you could manage doing it yourself. You could barely contain your giggles when you sauntered up to him, a can of cola in your hand, politely requesting him to open it because you didn’t want to chip your freshly painted nails.
If the talk of the town was going to take over your summer, you might as well have some fun.
—
“And how is Loraine? Why didn’t you bring her along?” you knew the question would crop up eventually. Yet another reason to feel guilty about thirsting for your stepbrother. His American sweetheart girlfriend. God, how you loathed her. You were glad she didn’t tag along. Sure, Maria’s desire to show her future daughter in law off had been trampled upon, but you think you would have drowned yourself in your pool if you had to stomach seeing Javier getting cosy with another woman.
“We’re um” Javier put his fork down and reached for his glass of water. “We’re not together anymore, mom.”
That was not the answer you were expecting. By the looks of it, neither was Maria. With an exasperated sigh she set down her cutlery to gesture with her hands, in that annoying, exaggerated manner that she always did when she didn’t get her way.
“Oh my god, Javi! Why the hell didn’t you tell me!!” Javier raised his brows and took a drink of his water in a way that really called to attention the “this is why” sentiment that was plastered all over his face. You should’ve been ashamed that your first instinct was to smile out of sheer giddiness. But regardless of whether you stood a chance or not- the fact that he was no longer tied up made you unreasonably happy.
Sure, you’d heard a lifetime's worth of advice about “not dating college boys” and staying away from the charming, playboy variety at that. But in a few month’s time you were going to be a college girl, and you ought to familiarise yourself with the items offered on the menu.
Either way it was Javier’s life that was on the table that day, up for dissection, and as bad as you felt for him, you were glad it wasn’t yours.
“Javier, why would you do that?....”
The conversation around you slowly drowned out into senseless chatter, as it always did, and you took the time to enjoy Javi’s face under the veil of witnessing the nasty argument that his revelation broke out.
—
It had been a few days since that riveting discussion at the dining table, and things had gone pretty much as usual. You saw and indulged in conversation with Javi once in a while, but for the most part you kept to yourself. As much as you wanted to make a move you didn’t want to come off too desperate to take up your step-mother’s instructions to “bond” as it were.
What went down at dinner had surprised you, you had to admit. From the way Maria boasted about her son, you really expected the two to get along swimmingly. So to say you were surprised to see Javi’s disregard for his mother, and the general lack of bother he showed at her antics, would be an understatement.
Then again Maria didn’t seem to bring up Javi outside of her boasting, and if that argument was any indication, you knew their relationship was a lot more complicated than your stepmother had ever let on. You took solace in the fact that the summer wouldn’t be the three against one misery fest you were initially expecting.
It didn’t help that Maria was trying to get Javi and Lorraine back together. She was so desperate to mediate their premarital conflict. Just a taster for how any marriage of Javi’s would go. But Javi himself didn't seem so enthusiastic about the whole thing. Sure, he’d agreed to try to mend things for his mother’s sake, but just saying Lorraine’s name around him got him ticked off at this point.
But that solace motivated you to new heights, inspired you to take up a stride in the Javi department of your life. Maybe he would be receptive to your company? Who knew. After spending a sleepover’s sleepless night gushing about him to your best friend Connie, the two of you hedged a plan.
Everything seemed meant to be– Connie was throwing a house party with her brother Steve in their house the following night. As it happened, Javi Peña had been far closer to your inner circle than you could have ever anticipated. In fact, you were surprised you hadn’t crossed paths before, considering he and Steve played soccer together in high school. The same high school you began to attend the year they graduated.
“Javier?!” Steve grabbed a slice of pizza from the box on the kitchen counter and leaned against the marble, looking over at you and Connie sitting at the island. “You didn’t tell me the Maria you’ve been bitching to Connie about is Maria Peña.” You rolled your eyes and wiped your face with a napkin. “Were you in the same class or something too?” Steve nodded his head and reached for his beer.
“Fuck yeah we were! We’re pals! Did sociology together and all.” he took a sip of his beer and placed the bottle back on the counter. “Ms. Peña was really sweet– she’d bring us snacks to practise and stuff.” you and Connie shared a look. Of course she did– she loved being the perfect mom, didn’t she?!
“Get Peña over tomorrow, would ya? Bastard didn’t even tell me he was back in town.” you try your best to conceal your smirk, you’ll bring him around, Steve didn't need to worry. “Don’t get too upset at him, he only got back like a week ago– and if I can’t convince him to tag along, you’ve gotta promise to give him a call, okay?” Steve snickered, then nodded his head.
“Bet your ass I will.”
—
Morning came quicker than you expected, and before you knew it your father was backing out of the lunch date he had promised you to celebrate the beginning of summer. On top of that, he took a whole hour to respond to your “will you at least pick me up?” text. Now you had no lunch plans and no ride home from Connie’s.
“Sending Javier to pick u up. sorry, maybe tmr? <3” his text had read. Expected. You should have been surprised he’d stuck to the plans as long as he did.
But there was always a silver lining– at least that's what you’d told yourself your whole life. This time it actually felt a bit more meaningful than the pathetic mantra it had become over the years. It was commendable how Javi managed to be more involved in and committed to your well being than your own father.
Either way, this might have been a good opportunity for you to ask Javier to come to the party later, maybe use your persuasive skills and finally make some progress on getting to know him better. You psyched yourself up as you waited on Connie’s porch, watching intently but trying to remain cool and calm as you watched Javi’s red vintage mustang near.
Even his car was sexy and cool. Ugh.
You hopped in and chucked your bag in the backseat.
“Had fun?” you continued to try and be nonchalant when he tipped his sunglasses down to address you. “Yeah, was fun.” you shifted to get comfortable, one leg up on the leather of the seat, your skirt riding up. Javi sure noticed. Even if it was just for a second.
His hair blew in the wind as he got going. Christ he was so sexy when he was driving. Good god. Should've been illegal.
“Not staying another night? No party?” He seemed genuinely interested. It was the bare minimum but he sure had a way of making the bare minimum charming. With those expressive eyes, upturned lips and teasing tone. He was not much older than you but boy did he feel like he came from a different planet. So relaxed, so confident, at ease. It put you at ease too. “Yeah, but only at 10.” you paused and looked over at him, the sun was in his eyes so he reached atop his head to drag down his sunglasses. “Connie’s brother Steve asked me to ask you to come.”
“Steve?” he paused to look at you for a brief second.“Murphy?!” “He laughed, then turned the corner. “Steve Murphy is Connie’s brother? Him and I went to high school together!”
“Yeah, I know! Crazy right?!” you were quick to continue before he could interject. “Anyway, he wants you to come too, and he’s extra upset cuz you haven’t told him you’re back in town yet.” Javier snorted, turned to you again and playfully and gently shoved your shoulder. “Yeah, I've been a little preoccupied, haven't I?l.” he asked rhetorically, shooting you a teasing look. Poor guy, Maria had been on his ass from the moment he had gotten back, playing show and tell with him at her various parties.
The warm summer air hit you square in the face, smelling like fresh flowers, grass and the sea. You closed your eyes momentarily and tried not to get too distracted by the ideal weather. “Well, then you’re gonna come tonight, aren’t you? Make it up to him?”
He paused at a traffic light, and shook his head just enough for you to notice.“I don’t know, doll… I’ll have to see how I'm feeling..”. Oh no, you couldn’t let him get out of this one. You turned in your seat and pushed yourself closer, placing a gentle hand on his knee.
“Why? Do you have plans or something?” It didn't last long, you were startled off him when the light went green and he started back on the road.
The wind hit you in the face yet again as you picked up speed, swaying Javi’s soft waves in a way that was far too entertaining. He shrugged and checked the rearview mirror. “Not tonight I don't.” Oh well, that was perfect news, was it not? “Oh well that's perfect then. We can finally get on that “bonding” thing, your mom’s been on about.”
He laughed and eyed you as if to tease. “Looks like you were paying more attention to all that crap than I was.” There it was, more reassurance of Maria’s tendency to be a pain in the ass. You laughed– great you were bonding already. “Been running around town with mom all day– can’t lie that I'm a bit tired..”
“Oh please, come on, it’ll be fun!!” You leaned over yet again, this time placing both hands on his knee and scooting closer. You knew he would see your tits push up in your skimpy top. “Please, Javi?”
And you were right to think he was simple enough of a man for that to work, “Okay, okay” he conceded and put his right hand over yours. You gave his knee a squeeze and turned towards the front again. “Yay! See!! Two birds with one stone– Maria will be happy too– bonding and all!!”
He pulled up in front of your home, and you were already leaping out of the seat to grab your bag. You caught his eyes raking up your legs once again. “She might be onto something there though, I must admit.” he had got to know what he was doing– the way he was looking, the way those words left his mouth. He was one of those naturally flirty types, despite not needing to be.
“Mother knows best!” Your voice travelled across your front lawn, and Javi shut the car door, watching as you skipped inside. He wasn’t much far behind you.
“See you tonight then.” You dropped your bag on the couch and watched him click the door shut behind him. He leaned against it and observed you strut about the kitchen. “Don’t ditch me when we get there, doll.” If you were a better person the nickname would have appalled you, but you were not strong enough to resist whatever it was that was going on.
You sauntered over to him, letting him get one last look at your perfect summer outfit before heading for the stairs. You got close enough to where you were standing between his legs. He was even broader and taller up close, if that was even possible. And it wasn't helping your horniness that you could smell the herb and bergamot of his perfume. You looked up at him through your lashes.
“Pinky promise.”
—
You ended up leaving for the party before Javi did, mostly to solicit Connie’s help with your look, but also to help set up the lights with Steve. You wished you could have left together, especially when you walked past his room and smelt the fresh scent of his shampoo as he showered. You weren’t even ready to see what he’d show up in. You were hoping for the leather jacket.
And boy did he not disappoint. Javier showed up alright. Looking better than ever. The full package, tight dark wash jeans, his short sleeve button up, and of course, the leather jacket. You were at the bar counter on the far end of the room when he entered the Murphy residence. You had the perfect view of all the girls who immediately migrated to his side. Your insides turned with jealousy.
All night you watched him, kept an eye on him whilst you danced in the middle of the dance floor. You watched him out of the corner of your eye sipping his beer and smoking a cigarette. He was chatting with Steve. The both of them kept to themselves the entire evening. You’d heard from Connie they didn’t really like the people they went to school with too much, anyway.
You were pleased with that however, since apart from Steve, there was no one at the party who was getting in the way of him giving you attention. It was the perfect set up for your ulterior motives. Anytime he wasn’t chatting with the tall blonde, his eyes were on you as yours were on his. He tried to be nonchalant about it. You had the feeling he had gotten quite expert at this type of stuff over the years. He was all calm and collected, taking in your borderline sinful dancing with his cigarette dangling between his lips.
The fact that he smoked in the first place was enough to get your panties soaking. With all the no smoking PSAs you’d been subjected to over the years you never really had a chance to get within fifty miles of one yourself. The forbidden allure of it all made your brain buzz around in your head. Now that was a man who could take your virginity.
It was definitely hindering your odds of getting into heaven, the way you yanked your skirt up just that little bit when you danced, swayed your hips a little too suggestively the moment you took notice of Javier’s looking. But hey, wherever you were putting down, the man was picking up, so at the very least the both of you shared the blame.
Intermittently through the night you stumbled to the bar, leaning your body onto his as you asked for another drink. At some point, Steve had moved elsewhere so you had Javi all to yourself. He wrapped an arm around you as you waited for your sixth cocktail of the night, already struggling to see straight. He chatted with you and indulged your little flirtatious advances without going too far. The fact that he didn’t push it only made him more sexy.
You felt lucky that besides the Murphy siblings, no one at the party was privy to your real relationship, and those who might have been had either already taken their leave, or were too busy getting it on with others. Not unlike the Murphy siblings themselves.
So when you leaned it a little further than you usually do, when the bar was empty, and everyone else in the house was rather preoccupied, Javier finally pulled you all the way in. You stood fully between his legs as he sat on the barstool, cigarette still in hand. You looked up at him, finally close enough to catch the scent of his perfume again.
In your drunken courage, you slung your arms around his neck, playing gently with the tips of his hair as you spoke. About what you barely remember. Just a whole lot of senseless flirting. He called you “doll” at some point. It made you shiver and you pushed yourself even closer to his chest.
“You've been havin fun?” he removed one hand from your waist to take a sip of his beer. Your hands moved to play with the collar of his jacket.
“Hmhm. I am now”. It was hard to squeeze out all these cheeky responses when he was drawing those circles on your waist with his thumbs. God he was so big and imposing. And he moved around and with your body like he had known it for years. When he wasn't drawing circles he was smoothing his hand down your back, grazing your lower hips just enough to leave you wanting more. This was so obviously not his first rodeo.
The boys you knew only bragged about their many escapades. So much so they were hard to believe. Javi clearly didn’t have to. You didn’t even want to know how many girls he’d taken to bed. You wondered what his hands could do to you. He was probably so experienced, so attuned to the whims of the body.
Another thing he was good at doing was laughing at your rather provocative one liners. His chuckle reverberated across his entire chest. It was so deep and low and perfect. God, it was so difficult to have any amount of sense around this man.
You spent another good ten minutes rocking side to side to the music in Javi’s arms. Getting a little too close for supposed “siblings”, letting your hands wander a little too far, your lips get a little too close. To say you were enjoying yourself would have been a severe understatement. With every second he looked at you, stroked your skin or man handled you ever so slightly, you were one step closer to jumping his bones. He had quite literally smooth talked his way into getting your panties wet.
You would have stayed there forever too, getting progressively more drunk and unhinged. Well bold, you got bolder with what you said, where you teased, and the way you looked at him from under your lashes.
By the time Steve Murphy had snuck up behind you, you were far too drunk to be anywhere but your bed. So much so that you almost cussed Javi out for unceremoniously making distance between you two because you didn't realise.
Safe to say you huffed and puffed whilst the two had their conversation. Well, for a little bit, until you really needed to go home.
You stumbled into Javi’s arms, wrapping your own around his neck and pressing your body against his again. His warmth enveloped you, his embrace was firm around your waist and there was nothing you wanted more than to climb right onto him right then and there. But you were too dizzy to hold yourself up on two feet, and he was way too well adjusted and respectful to take advantage of you so you buried your face in his chest and groaned.
“C’mon, silly, let's get you home.” You heard Steve laugh, but you were not 100 percent sure it really was him. Javi’s arm got a steady hold around your waist and he manoeuvred you towards the door.
Javier had only had one beer, ever mindful that he needed to drive you home. And you were glad for it. You put your entire body weight on him as he led you to the car out front, opening the door and sliding you into the passenger seat with caution. He sure had a fine temperament, putting up with your senseless chatter and mindless yappery the whole drive home. At one point, exhausted by your own talkativeness, you collapsed beside him, head in his lap and everything. This was probably the better of the two options, the second one being getting sick all over his car.
As you drifted in and out of sleep-land you felt his hand gently smooth over your head, then rest on the curve of your waist. The rough of his jeans brushed your cheek as The Rolling Stones played on the stereo.
—
“Shhh, baby.” his thumb pressed against your swollen lips, so soft. “You gotta be quiet, yeah?” he craned his neck to look up and towards your parent’s bedroom. “Gonna wake up the wicked witch of the west” he laughed out the last part of his sentence, thumb swiping your bottom lip when you joined him. “But Javi…” His hand moved to cup your cheek, and he grimaced at your loud voice.
“Dolly ” mocking your whining he brushed his thumb against your skin. He was so perfect. your skin tingled with how close he was, his breath fanning your lips every time he whispered, his deep brown eyes so difficult not to get lost in. Maybe if he kissed you he could’ve gotten you to keep quiet.
“That’s what’ll get ya to keep that mouth shut?”
You could have sworn you didn’t say that out loud, your eyes widened in realisation and you burst into a fit of giggles. The deep brown eyes you had been losing yourself in turned affectionate, and crinkled at the corners.
“‘Fraid you did, kiddo.” And there you’d done it again. He didn't let go of your cheek, still stroking it with his thumbs, only whispering a bit more desperately in the hopes your parents wouldn't wake up thanks to the commotion. “Well then, I promise I will, but first we got to get past the grouches, remember?”
Your eyes lit up and you placed your hands on his chest to get a better look up at him. The pout on your lips deepened and you curled your fingers around the collar of his jacket to shake him lightly. “Such a party pooper. Javi! You're a party pooper.” At least you tried to feebly jostle him around. It only made him snicker.
It made him grab your hands in his and bring them to his lips. “I know doll, I know” he laughed and placed a kiss on your knuckles then leaned his forehead against yours. It was only then you realised how much he had been drinking– his whiskey laced breath fanning your lips and reminding you you weren't the only one who wasn’t sober. “But will you listen to me? Will you keep quiet for me?”
His voice was so soft it made your stomach flip flop, put you in a daze and feel all floaty in his arms. “For you, Javi?” You tried your best not to slur your speech but boy was it difficult. His eyes softened and he brushed his knuckles across the apple of your cheek. “Yes baby, can you keep it quiet for your Javi?”
Now that made you hush. You reached your hand to your mouth and made a zipping motion to shut yourself up indefinitely, then locked your lips around the corner for good measure. Grabbing Javi’s hand you handed him the “key” with that face of determination, and he chuckled at your newfound commitment to keeping quiet.
“Thanks baby.” he put the “key” in the pocket, then twisted his arms back around your waist and guided you up the flight of stairs. “Come on now.” stumbling and stumbling your way through your house, up the stairs and down the corridors you revelled in every second you leaned on Javi and let him support your weight, hold you in his arms and guide you as you tripped over yourself. If getting drunk meant having him practically carry you everywhere you sure enjoyed it– no matter how gross you felt.
Eventually, you remember feeling the plush of your covers tickle the side of your face as you collapsed on your bed. You heard Javi break into a laugh behind you but you found it hard to respond with how dizzy and uncomfortable you had become. You groaned and kicked your shoes off– at least you tried until Javier bent down and did it for you.
You couldn't stifle your giggle when he pressed a kiss below your ankle where your shoe had scuffed at your skin and left a tiny mark. With much fuss, some encouragement and a lot of struggle, Javier did manage to get you to sit upright and eventually got you into the bathroom to change into some pyjamas.
Safe to say you did little work– it was him that fetched your nightwear from your dresser, helped you hobble into the bathroom and stood outside the door to make sure you didn't fall and crack your head open. When you did emerge from the bathroom, it was he that threw your alcohol laced clothes in the hamper, and handed you a wipe to swipe along your face.
“I feel sick..” you leaned your head against his shoulder– perched on the bed and barely able to hold up your own weight. That was not a problem since Javier had no qualms supporting said weight in his big, strong arms. So much so you were ready to fall asleep sitting up right there.
“I know doll, that’s why we’ve gotta get you some rest…” He caught your legs in his grasp and helped you lay back against the mattress. The whole room spun and you reached for him in frantic desperation– afraid you would fall right through your bed and to your inevitable demise.
Javi was quick to hush you, gently shifting the duvet from under your restless form and tucking you in. Sure, to say you were feeling great would be a little bit misleading– but boy your bed had never felt as comfortable as it did in that moment. The covers swallowed you like a giant, marshmallow like cloud, and you felt your muscles relax and give in to the exhaustion. You felt the tickle of the covers– completely and cosily tucked in. Your eyes fluttered shut, and you were prepared to drift to dreamland. But how could you forget….
“Where's my kiss?” you rolled over under the duvet, twisted in a position between your side and on your back– too dizzy to align yourself correctly with the mattress. Even you found it difficult to recognise your own voice, far more slurred and sleepy and small than it usually was. Your eyes struggled to remain open.
Javi laughed, and helped you turn around to face him in a way that wouldn’t compromise your back. He shifted the covers around you to tuck you back in again, and you couldn’t help but snuggle into the plush of your bedding. You watched with hooded eyes as he reached forward and ran his knuckles across your cheekbones.
Javier leaned in to press his lips to your forehead, letting them flutter against your skin ever so gently, and smoothed his palm over your head. You were asleep before he pulled away.
“Goodnight, doll.”
—
You woke up with perhaps the worst hangover to have ever existed. Turns out endless sugar and alcohol really didn’t sit well in your system. The sun peaking in through the blinds made you groan and toss the sheets off your body. It was hot and mucky in your room. Too hot and mucky for the morning.
But it wasn’t the morning.
When you rolled over and checked your phone it was well into the evening. 18:00hrs to be exact. You didn't know it was possible to sleep in that late and still feel like shit. The previous night must have really been something.
You couldn’t remember much from the previous night if you were being honest, well, besides the fact that you spent quite a significant part of it cozying up to Javier. You still smelt him on your skin, and felt what his mere presence did to you between your legs. Your panties clung to your cunt as you stepped out of bed.
Your own reflection in the bathroom mirror frightened you, but you brushed your teeth and hopped in the shower despite your overall ickiness and lethargy. You knew Javier would be downstairs looking handsome as ever, and after probably looking a little ridiculous the night before, you couldn’t really risk walking out there looking like a clown.
Besides, it was late already, and there was nothing more you could use at the moment than a cold fruit juice and a soak in the pool.
When you sauntered down the staircase and made your way towards the kitchen, you were surprised to find your house rather empty. The sun was setting and both Maria and your dad should have been home for dinner by this time. You called a few names but to no avail.
Deciding that you couldn’t be bothered you fixed yourself an ice cold lemonade and moseyed on over to the pool, only then to be jumpscared by a rather unexpected shirtless figure laying in the shallow end, relaxing with his eyes closed.
Before you could speak, he did. “Sleep well I reckon?” his head was still tilted towards the sky, his torso stretched out as he laid his head on the edge of the pool deck. The water gently crashed against his navel.
“Probably not as well as you were a second ago” you approached him, his eyes were still closed but he outstretched an arm, making space for you beside him. “Well, I didn't sleep in till six now, did I? I was just taking a little nap, doll”
You rolled your eyes and climbed into the water, but instead of cozying up to him you swam in front and gently parted his knees to kneel on the pool step. “Where are the oldies?” By this time, Javier had actually opened his eyes and he watched with a smirk as you ran your hand over his leg.
“They’re out, baby- gonna be out till breakfast tomorrow.” He reached forward and pulled you fully towards him. “Well that's fortunate isn't it”. Surely he could tell you were pushing your tits in his face. He clearly didn't mind either way. You slung your arms over his shoulders again as he spoke.
“Oh yeah? What for” he moved his face towards yours and his hands moved dangerously to the cut of your breasts. “Gives us time to swim, you know, relax in the pool.” You couldn’t even keep a straight face as the words left your mouth. You pushed yourself off his knees and swam towards the deeper end. Javier chuckled and followed behind you slowly, playfully threatening to grab your leg as you squealed away from him.
“That’s all you out here to do?” He caught up to you and gently cornered you against the edge of the pool. “I don’t know why you’d think otherwise..” You were in shallow enough waters that you could stand on your tip toes. You grabbed him by the sides and pulled him closer. His own hand snuck under the water and brushed against the cut of your bikini bottoms. “Just the way you’ve been squeezing your thighs since last night.”
Your breath hitched, “Didn’t Maria say she wanted you to mend things with Lorraine again?” His hand was still dangerously close to your already dripping pussy. This was definitely better than any wet dream you’d had over the past week Javi had been visiting. The feeling of his skin against yours, the rough waistband of his pool shorts brushing against your waist, his unbelievably huge arms caging you against the warm stone of the pool deck- it made you melt more than the evening heat ever could .
Speaking of the heat, the sun had almost fully set. The lights in the pool had turned on automatically and the way they shimmered lit up Javi’s face in the most spectacular fashion. You noticed the gleam of the water against his warm, tanned skin as he spoke. “Since when do you want her to have her way, doll?”
He was so close you felt his entire chest vibrate with his chuckle. His hand gripped your waist and forced you up until your legs had no choice but to wrap around him. It was then you felt his hard, thick, length pressing up against the inside of your thigh. You squealed and tried to get your words out straight. “I don't know… feels a bit unholy whatever's going on here.”
“It does feels sacrilege" his hands toyed with the straps of your swim top, he continued speaking, voice getting lower by the second. “Wonder what our parents would say if they found out”
Javi’s hips pushed further into yours and you gasped, your pussy aching at the feel of his cock rubbing against you. It was a struggle to choke your words out, but nevertheless you managed. “They’d be furious.” He could definitely tell you were struggling. In fact he seemed to enjoy it quite a bit. He leaned down and ran the tip of his nose against your collarbone, his hips continued to rock against yours and you felt your swimsuit cling to your wet, messy, cunt. “Mom would lose her mind.”
In your delirious state you struggled to keep up with what he was saying. Sure, you’d had sloppy makeouts with boys before. But all those boys were losers, obsessed with getting off and too stupid to know what they were doing in the first place. None of them were competent enough to speak to you this way, get you all worked up and caught up in their words. The thought of Maria finding out what was happening under her nose made you giggle a little giggle of revenge. “She’d lose her mind at what's going on here.” you sighed as you spoke, revelling in the feeling of Javi’s lips on your neck. But just as those words left your mouth, he pulled back playfully.
“What is going on here?” You felt his cock swell and rut against you and you gasped. Your hands grasped his shoulders for some stability. “What is it you want from me, baby?” You were so wet you bared down on him and you heard him groan. His hand moved to your breast and stayed there tauntingly.
“See that's the thing….” you took in a breath, then ran your hands over his chest before slinging your arms over his shoulders and pulling him closer. “What's the thing..” Javier squeezed your breast in his hand and you moaned. He leant back into your neck and sucked the skin, rocking you once again gently into the wall of the pool. You felt your pussy clench around nothing.
“How much do you think it would piss the oldies off if you say..” you tangled your fingers in his hair and whispered gently in his ear. “I don't know, took my virginity?”
Javi rocked his hips into yours so hard he slammed you against the wall. You shivered as you heard him groan beside your ear. His cock strained against his swim trunks and sat nuzzled against your wet, hot pussy. “Quite a lot I think..”
“Call it a favour.” His hand made its way between your bodies as he spoke and he ran his thumb over your clothed clit. He pulled back and looked at your face as if to say he was rather unsurprised by the fact you were a virgin. For a split second you wondered how he would know but were quickly distracted by his hips thrusting into yours. There was a glint in his eyes. He looked excited, almost like he could eat you alive right then and there. “Is this why you’ve been such a tease the past week?”
Elated, and basking in all the new sensations, the movement of his expert fingers over your sweet spot you smiled and let out a rather enthusiastic “Maybeee.”
His fingers continued to rub your clit as he spoke and you bucked your hips into his hand. “Want me to stretch you out so you can have some fun once you get to college?” Those words sent your eyes rolling back into your head. You tightened your hold around his waist with your legs and tugged at his hair. Unable to speak.
“Someone’s quiet..” with your lips inches from his all you could manage were quiet, strained pants “Just trying to make your whole break-up easier.”
Javier chucked and slipped his fingers under your bikini bottoms, he groaned at your wetness and you gasped at the feel of his rough fingertips against your most sensitive spot. “You’re doing good, baby, haven’t thought about that cheater for a week.”
Oh, what a revelation that was
“See, it's a win-win” his lips finally came crashing down on yours after those words. They were soft and he tasted like cigarettes and vodka. He moved his mouth expertly against yours just as he moved his fingers against your pussy. The feelings rose in your chest and you moaned into his lips. You took a chance and nipped at them while you were there.
“Naughty little thing you are.” By this time you were so needy and desperate, the grinding wasn’t cutting it. Every other time you had a guy between your legs he'd already finished, and in the rare case he didn’t he was still rutting against your leg like a rabid dog. Not Javi though, Javi had got the stiff peak of your nipple between his fingers, he pinched gently and then reached behind you to untie your swim top. You took the time to reach down and feel him through his swim trunks. You didn’t know where you got the courage from, but when you saw his eyes flutter close and his lips part, you knew it was worth it. He grabbed your hand and brought it back up over the water. When you looked between you, you saw your swim top and your bottoms floating away from you. Before you knew it, he was slamming you back against the wall, his thick fingers teasing at your opening. He nudged your nose with his “Tell me to stop, and I’ll stop okay?”
You nodded, and felt yourself melt into his arms when he placed a gentle kiss on your cheek. God, this was just second nature to him, wasn’t it?! “Well then baby, how do you want it?”
Gasping, you clutched at his soldiers when you felt him push his finger into your weeping entrance. The water crashed against your body and you seized as he placed his thumb on your clit and rubbed.
“Want it slow and romantic?” His fingers moved in languid strokes, drawing out your moans from deep within your chest, his lips locked to the skin of your chest, kissing and nipping. You arched your back with every move.
“Gentle and sweet?” Whatever he was doing, it was working. You don’t remember the last time even you managed to get yourself that worked up.
“You know what I think?” He slipped another of his tick fingers in and you winced at the stretch. He pumped his digits in the perfect rhythm and you twitched in his hold.
“I think you’ll take it the way I give it to you..” his pace picked up and you felt him rubbing his hard cock against your thigh. “Think you know that I know what you want.”
“Know what you want before you do, baby.” The thought made you squeak, and he laughed at your enthusiasm. “You like that doll?” his rutting got faster, and you took the cue to nip at his neck, suck little kisses on his salty, summer kissed skin. “Fuck, you sure you haven’t done this before?” Your hands roamed his body as your hips bucked into his hand. He groaned when you tugged at his hair again.
“So fucking pretty..And so fucking tight….” His eyes raked over your form as you squirmed and turned in his hold. His fingers scissored you open.
“Look at you, so wet for my cock.” Much to your dismay he pulled his hand away from your spasming cunt just as you neared your release, instead reaching into his swim trunks and sliding his cock between your swollen folds.
“Ready for me baby?” You bit your lip at the feel of his head pressing against your entrance. “You sure feel ready”. The comment made your cheeks heat but your nods couldn’t be more emphatic. At that point you were shivering and quivering with need. The image of Javi towering over you, his big hands grabbing at your flesh, it was too much.
“That's my girl..” with a single, deep stroke, he pushed in. Dear god was he big. So big in fact that had you been any less wet he would have split you in half. Even with how wet you were you flinched at the sting. Every vein, every contour of him you could feel inside you. Your walls pulsed when you heard him groan.
Javi shushed you and cupped your cheek in his hand, he let you adjust to his size with slow movements of his hips. You struggled to take his huge cock but the pleasure was too strong to stop. The stretch was so delicious.
“Doing such a good job baby, such a good job taking my cock..” you clenched your eyes shut at the pleasure, the pain almost completely dissipating each passing second.
“Dont worry, the other boys won’t be this big.” he chuckled and forced your eyes to meet his. “Won’t have any trouble after I’m done with you.” His lips crashed into yours. “They’ll slide right in, doll.”
You heard the water crash against the walls of the pool, spilling over the edge and onto the deck. Your pussy fluttered at Javi’s dirty words and you moaned his name in an expectedly desperate plea. As if he knew what you were asking he picked up his speed just a little, the hand that was grabbing your waist moved up to toy with your nipple.
“Bratty little thing teasing me since the day I got here, just begging me to fuck your brains out the moment your daddy looked away.” He gained his rhythm, your thighs slapping against his under the water. “Dancing for my attention, falling all over me.” He leaned down to swirl his tongue against your nipple as it rested above the water. “Just needed some cock in your pure little pussy didn’t you”. You felt the cool evening air hit your chest but your skin still felt like it was on fire. “Fucking tease.”
Like a prayer yet again his name fell from your lips. Your body struggled to make any other sounds beside that anyway. He seemed to like it, his cock pulsing inside you as he fucked you hard and fast.
“Say it again baby.” You did. It was hard not to listen to his every word when he was inside you, hitting all those spots you could never reach with your fingers. Ones you barely knew existed.
“Whose fucking you so good?” He growled in your ear.
“Javi”
“Whose poppin’ your sweet cherry?” At this point you were screaming and moaning so loud the neighbours probably thought someone was being murdered in your backyard. But you couldn’t care less. You had no idea sex could even feel this good. God knows your ability to get yourself off was mediocre at best, and you didn’t have many good things to say about any boy that tried to put his hand up your skirt before Javi.
He just had the amazing ability to make you feel like your body was the centre of the universe. And that filthy mouth of his was enough to have you teetering on the edge.
“Gotta be prettiest girl I’ve ever fucked” you opened your eyes to find him staring down at you. His eyes scanned every inch of your body and took every curve in. “Oh baby, it's not even a competition.” His thrusts only got faster and you yelped as he hit that sweet spot inside you over and over and over again. “All those girls all over me last night, just couldn’t stop thinking of you.”
You were so close, you tightened your legs around him and arched your back. Before you could even warn him that you were cumming you felt yourself tumble off the edge. Your pussy quivered and gushed around his swollen cock, your eyes rolled to the back of your head. You could barely register where you were, and you made out the sound of him cussing from the ringing in your ears.
When you finally came to you found his thrusts getting sloppy. Javi’s eyes clamped shut and before you knew it you felt his hot spend coating the inside of your walls. Your pussy clenched around him once again and you wrapped your arms over his shoulders as he collapsed on top of you. You pressed your naked chest against his as the both of you caught your breath.
“That was the best thing ever” you were almost starstruck. Javi snorted and kissed your neck. “Was it now?” He placed a kiss on your jaw and mumbled into your skin.
“We should do that again.” you turned to him as you spoke, biting your bottom lip. Javi grabbed your cheeks between his fingers and ran his thumb over said lip.
“Well, baby, now you’re the one that owes me a favour.”
—
Evil, we've come to tell you that she's evil, most definitely
Evil, ornery, scandalous and evil, most definitely
The tension, it's getting hotter
I'd like to hold her head underwater
Eeek!! Literally so excited to share this!! Please please flood me with your ideas, thoughts, impressions etc. I am so curious to know what you think!!! Thank you so much to everyone who comments, engages with and reblogs my work you keep me writing!! 💗🐝
