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y2kuromi · 1 month

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⭑ : 呪術廻戦 ❛ 𝗟𝗜𝗘𝗕𝗘𝗦𝗧𝗥𝗔𝗨𝗠𝗘 : satoru gojo x fem! reader

࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔 synopsis: yuuji sees a completely different side of gojo-sensei !

contents: tooth rotting fluff w a dash of angst! established relationship (married), second person & told from yuuji’s pov. extremely whipped satoru! petnames, suggestive dialogue

summer isn’t over yet! collection, can be read as a stand-alone

yuuji was initially ecstatic about the prospect of living with gojo-sensei. he’d imagined lazing around, gorging on sweets and watching cartoons on tv — maybe a few training sessions squeezed in with gojo-sensei — ideally it would’ve been just the two of them.

his fantasies came crashing down when realised gojo-sensei’s “house” was actually a “home”. the walls in the foyer were riddled with picture frames. he felt like he was intruding on gojo-sensei’s personal life, but he couldn’t take his eyes off the pictures on the walls.

there was a woman beside gojo-sensei in most of the pictures. she had (e/c) eyes and (h/c) hair. a friend? or a girlfriend? — nah. according to fushiguro, gojo-sensei got zero play. though she had to mean something to him. it was evident in the way he looked at her.

his cerulean eyes entirely averted the camera lens, instead devoted to committing every inch of her to memory

“that’s my wife” gojo said softly,“she’s gorgeous isn’t she?” he laughed wryly as he stared lovingly at the smiling woman in the photo. yuuji nodded slowly, studying his teacher closely.

“is she okay with me hiding out here?” he asked tentatively, shoving his hands in the pockets of his hoodie.

“ahhh about that” gojo says sheepishly, “i haven’t had the time to mention it to her so you’ll have to wait here while i talk to her” he ran a hand through his hair, snowy white tendrils curling around his fingers.

classic gojo-sensei.

“oh” yuuji chuckled, the situation was amusing to him. he couldn’t wait to tell fushiguro — the sour reminder that he couldn’t had his laughter dying in his throat.

gojo-sensei shrugged off his shoes and patted yuuji’s shoulder, “don’t worry she’ll say yes , i’ve got her wrapped around my finger”

yuuji waited patiently in the foyer, amber eyes flickering over the expensive decor and woodsy frames of gojo-sensei’s family. he could faintly make out traces of your conversation

"oh? you're home early for once" you smiled, leaning into your husband as he placed a kiss on your forehead. "what's the special occasion 'toru?"

"do i need a reason to want to see my beautiful wife?”

“nope” you hummed, “‘m just surprised to see you” not that you were complaining. satoru was a busy man and you cherished the rare moments you spent alone together

“how was your day sweets?” he asked, taking your hand in his, his thumb stroked over knuckles, soft, loving.

“same old” you shrugged, “we’ve got some big case coming up next week, so i was pretty busy today. had a tonne of paperwork and meetings too"

"my busy bee" he smiles, "i missed you s'much, i hate going on these stupid business trips"

"you'd like them more if i came with you" you said teasingly, poking his rib with your free hand "i ran into kento the other day, you sure i shouldn't come back to jujutsu sorcery too?"

"nuh uh" he shook his head firmly, "stay at your law firm pretty, 'm gonna need someone to defend me when i kill all the higher ups"

"what have they done now?" you sigh exasperatedly, turning the knob on the gas cooker and reducing the heat. the faint clicking sound echoes in the kitchen as the orange-blue flames simmered quietly.

"what haven't they done" he grumbled, leaning against the counter. he gently tugged at his blindfold, lithe fingers unveiling the cerulean eyes that you loved so much. his snowy hair fell softly around his face, a curtain that failed to hide the anger he felt coursing through his veins.

"poor baby" you cooed, hands trailing up to his face and cupping his cheeks, your fingers smoothed over the frown etched on his face, pushing his lips together in a duck-lipped pout, "wanna tell me about it?"

"y'know yuuji? the new first year that's sukuna's vessel?"

you nod, allowing your hands to fall from his face and rest on the counter. his greedy hands make their way to your waist, rubbing circles on the soft flesh peeking out beneath your untucked dress shirt.

"well they sent the first years on a mission to rescue people from the detention center, after sending me on that stupid mission overseas mind you, and the kid had to fight a special grade curse"

"is he okay?" you ask, hands ghosting over satoru's bigger, veiny ones. he sighs, a look of mild irritation fleeting over his face at the memory. in retrospect, none of that mattered now. he was home.

"yeah he's fine" he shrugs, "sukuna ripped his heart out and he died, but he revived him eventually"

"your definition of fine is questionable satoru" you snicker, and he feels his heart melting at the sound of your laughter. "why'd they send them on that mission anyways?"

"they just want yuuji dead, he was supposed to be executed remember? and they're really scared of sukuna which is crazy 'cause he's kinda weak"

"someone needs to humble you" you say, amusement dripping from your words like honey, "pride comes before fall 'toru"

"you humble me all the time sweets" he grins, pressing a chaste kiss to your forehead.

"i'm just doing the universe a favour" you tease, "what do you want for dinner? rice? noodles? or we could order food from that thai joint you like if you want”

"i'll eat anything you cook sweets,” he murmurs, “though i have something else i wouldn’t mind eating”

“satoru” you gasped, “you just got home and you’re already trying to get between my legs” you smack his shoulder playfully

“i’ve missed her too” he shrugs, “i’ve missed all of you”

you shook your head, “can’t believe i married such a feen” a languid smile tugs at the corners of your lips. you could try all you wanted to resist his charms, but he’d always win in the end

"so...about yuuji" satoru starts, testing the waters, "the higher ups really want him gone, i can't keep him at jujutsu tech right now"

"i can see why you wouldn't" you hum, leaning on the tips of your toes to reach for the salt. satoru had a habit of placing the things you needed in places you couldn't reach just so he could have the honour of retrieving them for you

“need help with that sweets?” he asks eagerly, pushing himself off the counter and sifting through the wooden shelves. he easily brings the jar of salt down and hands it to you

"you have to stop doing this, it’s such an inconvenience" you sighed, but you were grateful nonetheless.“you’re insufferable i swear”

“‘m still yours” he says suavely. satoru’s smile is unwavering though it doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

you can tell the thing with yuuji is weighing heavily on his mind. he’s more restless than usual. his lithe fingers run up and down the counter as he stares into space

“‘toru?” you prompt, nudging him with your elbow, “i can hear you thinking”

“i don’t know where to keep him” he exhales, “i would ask shoko, or kento but then i’d risk getting them in trouble with the higher ups”

“what about the secret room we found in our third year?” you asked, “you could keep him there, unless they found out about it”

“i would keep him there.. but i just...don't want him to feel alone," he says softly. you didn’t think it was possible to fall even deeper in love with satoru, but he never failed to surprise you. “he's just a kid, so i— i want to look out for him.”

he knows it’s a big ask. you can hear the gears turning in his head as he figures out how to possibly convince you to let sukuna’s vessel stay in your home.

"can he stay?" he pleads, "can yuuji stay with us please? it’s only until the kyoto goodwill event" he's clasping his hands together, imploring you with his infinitely blue eyes. you raise an eyebrow. knowing satoru, yuuji was probably waiting around in the foyer

"he's already here isn't he?" you ask, shaking your head fondly as a guilty look flickers across his face. classic satoru. although you would've loved for him to give you a heads up, you didn't mind a bit. it would be nice to have some company when satoru went on his missions

“i didn’t really have time to plan all the details before bringing him with me” he says, sheepishly rubbing a hand behind his neck, his fingers brushed against the soft strands of his undercut, "are you mad? don't be mad baby"

"no" you laugh, "i'm not mad 'toru, he can stay"

it’s the little things like this that make you realise just how much power you have over him. within seconds your husband is whirling you around, hands gripping your waist tightly and pressing chaste kisses on your face as he sets you down

"yuuji she said you can stay" a wide grin blooms across his face as he bounds into the foyer excitedly. the strongest jujutsu sorcerer, reduced to the faint resemblance of a child getting their first sleepover approved

you set the jar of salt down on the marbled counter. trailing after your husband. true to your suspicions, yuuji itadori had been standing awkwardly, twiddling his thumbs together in his hoodie pockets and silently taking in the intricacies of your home.

he couldn’t help but feel out of place.

there were pairs of everything — shoes neatly arranged on the coat rack. umbrellas tucked in a corner in the foyer. coats hung up next to each other on the wall.

the pale blue wallpaper hung row after row of framed photographs. their wooden mahogany panels reflected the warm lights. yuuji’s light brown eyes flickered on the pictures in all their glory and glossy sheen.

the ones that caught his eye captured a young fushiguro’s trademark scowl, the irritated quirk of his brow and the curled spikes of his hair that defied gravity.

he was standing beside a girl who looked just like him, except she was slightly taller with long bone-straight brown hair. yuuji’s eyes lingered on her smile as your beanstalk of a husband shook him excitedly

he wondered what fushiguro would say if he knew he’d seen pictures of him as a little kid. ( he’d probably summon his shikigami on him )

“really?” he beamed, eyes momentarily drawn away from the plethora of frames. you feel your heart melt into a sickly sweet puddle of happiness and warmth, as you watch satoru drape his arm over yuuji’s shoulder

“yes really” you laugh, “it’s nice to finally meet you yuuji, you’re a friend of megumi’s right?”

yuuji nods frantically, his mop of pink curls bouncing enthusiastically . his mannerisms were nervous and eager. he wanted to fit in. he wanted you to like him. you could tell — he reminded you oddly of your husband ( they were practically the same person in different fonts )

“speaking of megumi, he doesn’t know yuuji’s alive so please don’t let it slip when he calls you” satoru murmurs, taking slow steps towards you.

he knows he’s asking for too much now. you practically raised megumi and it would be nearly impossible for you to keep something like this from him. satoru can see the cogs spinning in your head, the subtle anger in your heart and for the first time in years he’s afraid.

“we’ll talk about this later” you say through gritted teeth. he pleads silently with his eyes and you swallow your protests, you exhale loudly before turning towards yuuji again “c’mon yuuji, i’ve just started on dinner”

yuuji kicks off his shoes and nudges them neatly beneath the shoe rack before padding after you. satoru isn’t far behind

“it smells really good mrs. gojo” yuuji says politely, as he takes a seat by the kitchen island, legs dangling as he drums on the smooth marbled counter.

“thank you yuuji” you beamed, “do you prefer rice or noodles?”

“ahh i’m not really picky” he says, “i like all kinds of food really, but i suppose rice? if it isn’t too much of a hassle, i really don’t want to be a bother-”

“slow down yuuji” you said softly, placing a hand on his shoulder, “i’m really glad to have you here, it gets kinda lonely when ‘toru’s away on business trips so make yourself at home okay?”

no wonder gojo-sensei was always happy, his wife was an angel. yuuji thought as he nodded fervently

“i can make the rice baby” satoru offers, his hands make their way around your waist, he doesn’t miss the way you stiffen under his touch. you’re mad at him, and he knows you have every right to be

“thank you” you said, putting as much feeling into the words as you could muster, “come with me yuuji, i’ll show you around”

yuuji was positive he was intruding now, standing in the middle of megumi’s room while you stripped navy blue pinstripe sheets off his bed and replaced them with canary dressings.

“are you sure i can sleep here?” he asks, “ i don’t mind taking the couch..”

you seemed horrified at the idea of yuuji sleeping alone on the couch. he still hadn’t come to terms with the fact that you actually wanted him here. he was so used to being unwanted

growing up with his grandpa was something he wouldn’t trade for the world, yet he’d always craved the warmth of a mother. a mother’s love was the purest, and there was nothing more blameless than the softness in your (e/c) eyes when you looked at him

“i mind yuuji” you frowned” and i want you to stay in gumi’s room, his clothes should fit you since you’re around the same height”

“thank you again for letting me crash here” yuuji didn’t think he could say it enough. he didn’t deserve such kindness, not when the king of curses lived rent free in his head

“don’t mention it yuuji” you said, “i meant what i said downstairs, i could really use the company”

you ruffled his hair softly before resuming your ministrations of making the bed. you tucked crisp sheets beneath the mattress and fluffed up pillows with ease.

“you’re a really good mom, why don’t you and gojo-sensei have any kids of your own?” yuuji only realises the question is slightly insensitive after the words hang in the air and an unreadable look fleets across your face, “i’m so sorry that was really rude of me-”

“you’re good yuuji” you laugh, you sit down on the freshly laid duvet and pat the space beside you. yuuji hesitates but he sits down eventually

“it just never happened y’know? we adopted tsu and gumi a few years back, plus toru’s always seen his students as his kids, he cares about you guys a lot”

“even me?” it doesn’t seem plausible to him. all he’s seemed to do is cause problems for gojo-sensei ever since he ate that gross finger

“especially you yuuji” you smiled, ruffling his hair, “you remind me of him funny enough, even though i used to hate him back in our school days”

“really?” he gawked, he was practically falling over megumi’s bed with anticipation.

“really” you affirmed , “he was a real piece of work back then, i bet he’s the reason yaga has so many grey hairs”

“how’d you fall in love with him then?” yuuji enquires, brown eyes sparkling with immense curiosity “and how’d you meet?”

“are you guys gossiping about me?” satoru gasps, peeking around the doorway, “how mean of you yuuji, i thought we were friends”

“ahhh we weren’t gossiping per-say, mrs. gojo was about to tell me how you met”

“can i tell him?” satoru’s eyes sparkle, “the way i remember it i walked into the common room and cherry blossoms started falling, classical piano was playing softly in the background and-”

“that didn’t happen” you said, “he’s finally going senile” you tried and failed to push satoru out the doorway but he stood his ground.

he stood almost toe to toe with you, a pleased grin blooming on his face as he towered over you. yuuji’s eye’s flickered between you and your husband, cheeks dusted a rosy pink as he stifled giggles

“it did happen!” satoru insisted, “i’m sure shoko has a recording of it somewhere, now as i was saying.. she took one look at me and fell head over heels in love”

“you’re deluded” you muttered, “i didn’t love you until our second year, get your facts right”

“so you did fall head over heels in love with me” he grinned, “so early too? i knew you couldn’t resist my charms — owww!”

satoru feigns as you finally manage to shove him out the door after hitting his shoulder. by now, yuuji is a spluttering mess on the soft tatami mats lining megumi’s floor

“i’ll tell you what really happened one of these days” you said over your shoulder, “you can shower and settle in, take as long as you need, we’ll wait for you to come downstairs before we start eating”

your smile falls the moment the door clicks shut behind you. satoru feels his heart shattering. he’s so sure he’s going to die because his wife is mad at him. the universe might as well combust into nothing but ashes

“baby-” satoru starts, catching your wrist in his palm. he grips the bone loosely, careful not to hurt you “‘m sorry, you know that, but megumi can’t know”

you trudge down the stairs in silence, opting only to speak when you’re seated beside satoru in the living room. your cat natsu watches you wearily from her cat post, slanted eyes shooting satoru a well meaning glare.

“you can’t ask me to keep this from him” you said, shaking your head, eyes looking everywhere but your husband’s piercing blue gaze. “you’re taking things too far now”

“i know” his voice is a mere whisper, the words barely speak themself into existence, “i’m being selfish again, but you’ve gotta understand (y/n)”

“i can’t” you splutter, you feel tears treading your waterline “put yourself in his shoes, c’mon satoru we’ve seen him at his worst, why would we do something that could hurt him?”

“i’m not doing this to hurt megumi, i’m doing this to protect yuuji”

“just think about it please” you frowned, “if instead of executing suguru they kept him alive and let us think he was dead, you’d never forgive them”

he doesn’t miss the way your voice catches over the three syllables. he doesn’t miss the way your fingers tremble against his forearm. he hates this — arguing with you, he could think of infinite things he’d rather do than this.

“that’s different” his voice is wavering now, “suguru made his choice, yuuji didn’t ask for any of this” he winces as the words fall from his lips. to think he’d stooped to speaking ill of the dead. he doesn’t believe that, not really.

“you still wouldn’t forgive them” you prompted, “and i don’t want ‘gumi to go through any more, tsumiki being in a coma is hard enough as it is”

“i know baby, i know” satoru says softly, he cups your trembling face in his hands and places the sweetest of kisses on the tears that threaten to stream down your cheeks, “trust me on this okay? he’ll be fine i promise”

“okay” you nod, letting your husband, your one and only, wipe away the tears spilling over your lashes.

satoru could really kill the higher ups for putting him in this position. one where he nearly sacrificed his wife’s happiness for something as insignificant as jujutsu sorcery. with his lips still pressed to the corners of yours, he makes a silent vow with himself

it would be you before everything. it was you before everything

“you’re so beautiful” he whispers, his thumb grazing your bottom lip “you. are. everything. to. me” he punctuates each word with a kiss. his lips committing every inch of you to memory

they ghost over your cheek, your quivering lip, your shoulder, your wrist, and finally the silver wedding band encasing your ring finger. and they linger on the cool silver for what seems to be eternity before satoru speaks up again

“dance with me?” he prompts, although he’s not really asking. he’s already whisking you onto your feet and starting up the record player. the vinyl spins on its axis, as constant as his infinite love for you.

“what?” you sniffed slightly, “like we did in our first year?”

“like we did in our first year”

satoru’s hands were on your hip, drawing you closer, he felt your chest brush against his for a second as he leaned into you. you swayed gently side to side, keeping in time with the intricate melodies streaming from the gramophone

his six eyes tell him his student is watching, listening. curious doe eyes peeking from the stairwell. he doesn’t mind. satoru had never been one to hide his affection. you were his. and he was infinitely yours.

“can i tell you a secret?” satoru murmurs, as he twirls you back into his arms. he wishes he could stay like this forever. with you. he’d selfishly sacrifice the universe to keep having moments like this. he would kill for you. he’s positive he would. he’d do it without hesitation.

“i thought we didn’t have any of those” you quipped. satoru feels his heart melting. watching the sadness in your eyes fade into utter bliss was like watching the sun come out after a rainy day. maybe even better.

“it’s a good one i promise” he grins, you raise a brow sceptically but you’re listening “i was the one who fell head over heels in love with you. way back in our first year…and i didn’t even know what love was, i was so confused”

“when did you know?” you asked, “you always say you knew the moment you saw me, but you were an asshole then”

“it was the first time we snuck out together” he admits, “when we went to that night market. you were right, i was jealous of suguru but could you blame me? i wanted you all to myself”

“you’ve always been so greedy” you giggled. satoru doesn’t need the six eyes to see that you love him regardless. it’s evident in the tenderness of your tone and the way your (e/c) sparkle when you look at him

“cut me some slack baby” he groans “i’m trying to be romantic”

“you don’t need to try, i heard through the grapevine i can’t resist your charms” you hummed

satoru cracks a smile at the inside joke, a slow symphony of contentment.he kisses you again and it’s sweet and full of blind adoration. loving you is his religion. the only thing he’s wholly committed to. your hands looped around his neck, carefully avoiding the ever-so-sensitive scar that ran beneath his chin

your hands founds repose in the soft strands of his hair, carefully threading through the ivory curls. satoru could feel himself melting into you, he clung to you as if he was scared to let go and his calloused hands clutched at the warmth that radiated from your skin. he was so impossibly close you could feel his eyelashes fluttering against your cheeks.

yuuji peered at the scene with stars in his eyes. he knew he should look away. that this moment was sacred, strictly for the two of you. but he’d never seen gojo like this before — completely vulnerable, completely himself in the confines of your embrace.

here he wasn’t the strongest, the richest, the one-man clan, the one whose mere existence shifted the balance of the world. here, he wasn't satoru gojo, he wasn't gojo-sensei, he was just 'toru.

#𓂃˖ letters from: satoru #❛ 五条悟 ❜#satoru gojo x reader #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #satoru gojo x you #satoru gojo x y/n #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru #satoru gojo #gojo fluff #gojo angst #jjk fluff #jjk angst #⭑ : js ‘toru gave me js george vibes #i love gojo too much pls sedate me <3

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beardedjoel · 2 months

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pretty little wife | crazy 4 u

joel miller x f!reader one shot collection

series masterlist | main masterlist | ao3 | ✨kofi ✨

summary: valentine's day special! joel has historically made sure that valentine's day is special for his pretty little wife, but this year he's gone above and beyond. warnings: 18+ MDNI! no apocalypse au, pre-established relationship/dynamic, sub/dom relationship, soft dom! joel, free use kink, orgasm denial if you squint hard, unprotected piv, rough sex, fingering, oral (f receiving), nipple play, choking/breath play, pet names for reader, praise kink, romantic as fuck husband joel this chapter, some domestic fluff, alcohol consumption, maybe maybe maybe there is a breeding kink moment, reader has hair that can be pulled a/n: they're so in love it makes me SICK!!! thank you so much for reading and loving this couple along with me, and happy galentine's and valentine's day my loves! 💋💗💌

reminder i have no taglist anymore, follow @beardedjoel-updates to hear about my new fics!

You quietly squeal to yourself as you start to tear open the newly delivered package on your way back inside from the mailbox. You look down at the assortment of pale pastel candies, all strung up on thin strands, waiting to be devoured. Your own curiosity and lack of self control nearly has you reaching in the box to break one off for yourself, but you hold back, reminding yourself just who you bought this for and why.

Valentine’s Day is in two days, but you’d wanted to get a jump, giving Joel a more playful vibe today considering you know he’ll have gotten you something sexy and downright depraved to wear on the actual holiday. Your skin tingles at the thought, recalling all of the things he’d had you wear in the past. Your most memorable being crotchless panties under a skin tight dress at dinner one Valentine’s Day, so he could finger fuck you under the table at one of Austin’s finest restaurants. Keeping your face straight during that had been painstaking, but you’d loved every minute of the debauched public display. When you’d asked Joel why he hadn’t just had you go sans underwear that night, he’d smiled devilishly. ‘Adds to the forbidden factor, don’t y’think?,’ Joel had replied, ‘So premeditated I had to get my baby somethin’ to weep onto while I knew I’d be shoving my fingers so deep in her pretty pussy.’ Those naughty words from Joel still send a shudder up your spine to this day as they ring in your mind. He hadn’t even waited until you two were home that evening to use that same hole in the panties to fuck you dizzy, until you’d screamed in the back seat of his car for him. Even then, he hadn’t relented until you came too many times to even remember the count now, leaving his seats a soaking mess.

You sigh, bringing yourself back to the present, brushing the memories away for now to get yourself ready to make some new ones with your husband. Once you’ve changed, you take a quick moment to admire the scant pieces of lingerie, almost laughing at the absurdity, but wondering how in all these years you’d never thought to buy candy underwear for Joel to devour off of you. You preen yourself for a few more quick moments before heading downstairs, wanting to set yourself up to act casual for Joel when he arrives home. Sometimes you do this on purpose, knowing he gets off on interrupting what you’re doing just so he can take you, fuck you however he pleases. And even when you really are in the middle of something, you get off on it too - being of service to your husband, helping him feel good while knowing you’ll be well taken care of, too.

On the dot at 5:00, you hear Joel’s car pulling up and smile smugly to yourself, continuing to wipe the counters down. A prompt pop of your hips to push your ass out follows when you hear the front door open and close.

“Doll? Where are ya?” Joel calls out, voice slightly muffled as he bends down to put his shoes away.

“In here!” you call out, voice high and sugary sweet, imitating the lingerie plastered to your body right now.

“How’s my pr-” Joel starts, freezing the moment he enters the kitchen. He takes in the sight - you slightly bent over, only a tiny string between your bare ass cheeks, pink high heels, and straps of candy running over your shoulders and across your back. You whip your head over your shoulder, rotating your body just enough to give Joel a peek at the lines of candy also covering your tits. He laughs, head thrown back in playful amusement before stepping towards you, predatory and slow, his laugh fading into a contemplative smirk.

“What do we got here?” Joel says quietly, hands immediately pressed tightly to your hips, his body pushing you forward into the counter. You whimper when the edge of the counter starts to dig into your stomach, Joel’s massive form locking you into your spot. “A little snack f’me to enjoy after workin’ so hard all day?” Joel can barely contain himself, blood running hot as he contemplates how grateful he feels right now.

“Mmhmm…” you whine out, already feeling any semblance of tension leaving your body at Joel’s gentle but calloused touch, this feeling of home. You giggle when Joel leans down to where the straps come around over your shoulders and takes a bite out of the candies, a little groan leaving him as his lips also catch on your skin, mixing the taste of you with the sweetness of the candy.

“Delicious, baby,” he hums in your ear, then goes on to kiss your earlobe. You melt, head falling back slightly with a docile smile plastered on your lips. “How’d a man get so lucky?” He takes another bite, kissing along your shoulder as he does so.

“Thought we’d get a jump on Valentine’s Day, darling,” you coo back, turning your head to kiss his cheek.

Joel freezes, his eyes going wide and body rigid. “Fu-” he murmurs to himself, lips still practically attached to your shoulder.

“What?”

He tears himself off of you with the most disgruntled groan you may have heard from him yet. “Baby, we gotta get movin’. You… fuckin’ little candy underwear, god damn it…” he starts muttering, grabbing you tightly and spinning you around. He grasps your hand in his and starts leading you upstairs. “You gotta change, honey, we’re…” he trails off, looking guilty and a bit flustered.

“Joel, what the hell is going on?” you ask, stopping and pulling back on his hand.

Joel sighs, calming himself for a moment before finally meeting your eyeline again. His gaze softens and he smiles. “Had a whole thing planned, darlin’. A surprise. C’mon and see for yourself.”

You trail after him, suddenly feeling ridiculous in your candy underwear given the change in mood. He takes you into the bedroom, opening his closet and yanking out your suitcase. Your brows furrow as you watch him pull it to the center of the bedroom, then going back for another suitcase of his own. Your mouth drops open slightly before curling into a smile, realizing that Joel had planned a trip for the two of you. He’d mentioned to keep your schedule free around Valentine’s Day, but you’d figured it was just typical plans - dinner, a picnic, or a fancy hotel room, nothing this big.

“Joel… baby…” you breathe out, clutching a hand to your chest. You feel suddenly filled with warmth, like sunshine has started filling you from the belly outwards, making your entire being feel light and tingly. Effervescence. That’s what being with Joel is like.

He gives you a lopsided smile. “We’re leavin’ tonight. Planned it all, flight is at eight so we can wake up there ‘n get a jump on everythin’. An’ then you had to wear that,” he huffs, gesturing to your entire body with a wild movement of his hand. “An’ scramble my brain right up.” His eyes linger along your entire midsection, sincerely considering throwing these plans away just to sate his hard cock, but he shakes his head and looks you in the eyes again.

“A jump on…. what’s everything?” you ask, placing an impatient hand on your hip.

Joel reaches into the built-in shelves in his closet, pulling out a soft, cashmere lounge set and walking it over to you. “Jus’ get dressed an’ I’ll explain as we go. God damn it, this was s’posed to be so much more romantic.” He sighs, a hand repeatedly running through his hair during your entire conversation, looking flustered.

“Aw, honey, it is, promise,” you assure him with a kind laugh, starting to peel off the candy underwear, bringing it over to your dresser to deposit it for another time.

“Mm-mm,” Joel chants with a smirk, squatting down to unzip your suitcase and holding out his palm to you. “Those are comin’ with us.”

You’re over 31,000 feet in the air now, the sky dark outside the plane windows as you peer out. Joel had planned an entire long weekend to head to Aspen, where he’d booked you both skiing lessons and a cozy, romantic room at a lodge there. Your heart swelled as he explained it all on the ride to the airport, remembering how it was on your bucket list to learn to ski, but being from Texas there hadn’t been too many chances to learn locally.

You stretch your legs out, admiring the leg room in the first class tickets Joel had gotten you two, bringing the complimentary glass of champagne to your lips.

“Baby, this is too much,” you say with a slight frown, despite feeling overjoyed at everything about your current situation.

“Never. I’ve been plannin’ and savin’ for this for a while. Wanted to surprise you big time,” Joel says with a toothy, proud grin.

“Well, you did. Makes my candy underwear feel kind of… well, wimpy in comparison.”

Joel’s pointer finger flies to your lips, pressing down before your glass can reach your mouth again. “Not a chance, little doll. That’s all I need from you - skimpy little outfit to keep your husband happy.”

Your lips curl into a sly smirk and you part your lips, nipping the end of Joel’s fingers. He shoots a brow up, challenging you, but you back down. You and Joel don’t always have the most public decency, but you decide it’s not worth getting kicked off the plane just for an orgasm you could wait a few more hours for. You nearly roll your eyes at the thought though, your cunt aching from the unresolved moment you two had shared in the kitchen earlier. You can tell by his wide pupils and rosy cheeks that Joel must be feeling a lot of the same way and having the same conflictions.

“If we wait a few hours… it’ll be even better…” you lean over and whisper to him, voice betraying you as it escapes in a breathy, sultry tone.

“Plane never stopped us before…” Joel says, brows raised again.

You tut, but then smile at the memory of your one sexual adventure on a plane with Joel, when you two were on your way to your honeymoon. A discreet handjob and fingering in first class under blankets hadn’t been the most romantic start to your married life together, but it suited the both of you. “Aaand…” you trail off, placing your palm on his chest. “We almost got caught like five times, big guy. Promised ourselves we wouldn’t do that again.”

Joel grumbles quickly, and you know he understands, but you feel an anxious twinge in your stomach, like you’re breaking the rules. Your face falls a little and you turn towards him, more serious this time. “I know we have… an arrangement, and you know I love our arrangement.” Joel gets what he wants, whenever he wants - the words agreed upon by the both of you within your marriage, and you were all for it. “But just this time I think we shouldn’t break the law for it.” You raise your brows, stomach turning again as you wait for his reaction - Joel is always understanding and patient with you but as usual, you find yourself desperate to please him.

Joel bites the inside of his cheek, then he leans over to plant a peck on your cheek while he reaches down to squeeze your hand in reassurance. “No, baby, you’re right. Probably should be an exception ‘bout planes in there, huh?” He tilts his head playfully and you feel your tension dissipate immediately. “Always the rational one, ain’t you, honey.”

“Barely,” you tease, chuckling in relief. “I just don’t want to ruin the trip before it’s even started. Let’s just watch a movie or something?”

Several hours of keeping yourselves occupied and dozing off had you finally arriving in Aspen, where Joel gently nudged you awake as the plane landed. You rubbed your bleary eyes and made your way through the plane and airport half-awake, just letting Joel guide you with one of your hands gently grasping at his sleeve the entire time. You two get outside the airport with your suitcases, now bundled up in an adorable puffer jacket Joel had packed for you, along with a new pair of fuzzy earmuffs. You were starting to have a sneaking suspicion that there was a lot of new clothing in your suitcase.

Standing next to an impeccably shiny black car is a well dressed driver holding a tiny sign that makes you do a double take.

Mr. & Mrs. Joel Miller.

You tug on Joel’s sleeve with eager excitement as he starts towards the man and your mouth hangs open.

“Joel, you did not hire a fancy driver,” you scoff quietly in disbelief. Joel stops in his tracks, screeching the two of you to a halt before turning to face you.

“If you’re already questioning me at the airplane seats ‘n the driver, it’s gonna be a long few days, honey,” he says sweetly, his voice crackling and gruff with tiredness from the long day. Your open mouth turns to a smile while you tut and shake your head.

“You’re too much, Joel Miller…” you muse, following him to the car. The driver, Randy, takes your bags and stuffs them in the car, offering you an open car door to climb inside. Your stomach flips with butterflies, not having realized just how romantic of a weekend Joel had planned for you. You fight off a quick mist of tears as it pops up, trying not to get emotional at just how overwhelmingly thoughtful your husband could be sometimes.

When Joel sits next to you, you clasp onto his hand tightly, giving him a watery smile that he returns with a sympathetic one of his own, reading that you’re feeling overwhelmed. Sure, since Joel had become more and more successful in his business you’d been treated beyond your wildest dreams, but sometimes it all hit you hard in one big moment like right now, filling you with gut clenching gratitude for your life. Life with Joel oftentimes feels like a dream, something you’ve stumbled into somehow that you aren’t sure you deserve. Joel would never let those thoughts slide, always reminding you how lucky he feels to have met you in that bar, that fate intervened so spectacularly in his life.

You lean your head on his shoulder for the duration of the ride to your accommodation, feeling sick with nostalgia and gratitude as you get lost in your thoughts. When the lodge comes into view, you pick your head up, mind suddenly empty as your jaw drops while you take it in.

It’s dark out, the sky black against the warm, glowing lights peeking through window panes throughout the lodge. A mountainous backdrop is still visible despite the dark night, and you can’t help but ogle at everything, imagining how stunning it will look in the daylight. The lodge is huge, ornate despite the fact that it’s meant to look simplistic and cozy with its wood siding. Joel marvels quickly at the construction out of habit, being in the business he’s in gives him a certain preclusion to commenting his two cents on every place you stay. You’re stunned silent as the back door is opened by Randy and you step out underneath a large overhang, greeted by yet another person who offers to take your bags. It’s all fuzzy, your brain tired and overwhelmed by what you’re taking in right now, the fact that just hours ago you’d been at home, content to just stay in with your husband tonight. You blink back to reality, about to speak when Joel gets to it first.

“Please. Thank you kindly,” Joel drawls, quickly slipping them a bill from his wallet and then turning back to you, offering you his arm. You take it, practically ready to squeal loudly with excitement as you two enter the building. You admire the expansive lobby while Joel steps away to check in - high ceilings and wood beams, roaring fireplaces surrounded by cozy seating and tall, full but neatly arranged bookshelves. A winter dream if there ever was one.

You’re gazing around, tired, slow blinking eyes, too lost in it all to notice Joel come up next to you, his hand finding the small of your back. He leans close, lips and rough beard brushing your ear with a soft kiss.

“Room’s ready,” he practically growls, and your gut clenches at his tone, your thighs pressing together. Suddenly, your body feels alight, nerves buzzing and goosebumps peppering your flesh. Sleep is a far away notion now, recalling the way you’d begun this evening, only to have it go unfinished for the both of you. You smile, soft and docile like your husband likes, your voice a dulcet song so close to his ears.

“Lead the way.”

Your ass stings red hot from another harsh slap laid against it. Joel’s hungry mouth devouring you, your hat and coat discarded on the floor right next to the door to your room. Hair tangled from the way Joel is hanging on to it for dear life as he pounds into you. Your only view is the cream colored walls, your face pressed up against the cool, smooth surface as Joel’s body pins you there. The door had no sooner shut than Joel had thrown you here, as much clothing ripped off as he could stand before his cock was inside of you. You’d cried out, whimpered at the sudden heavenly intrusion despite your pussy needing a moment to adjust. Joel had pushed through it, anyways, delivering the first spank of the night on your ass, pants and underwear hastily pulled down, halfway down your legs - enough room for Joel to slip his cock in was good enough for now, he’d thought hastily. The pain had melded into pleasure, your cunt squeezing his cock and starting to weep, easing Joel’s firm thrusts into you.

“F-fuck…” you whine against the wall, lips hanging open as his cock hits deep, your g-spot crying out already from all the stimulation he’s giving it. He’s not going easy on you, and you’d already known he wouldn’t the second he got you alone. All those hours, the silent teasing going on in both of your heads as you’d waited for this moment.

“Takin’ my cock like such a good girl… my obedient little wife,” Joel grunts out next to your ear, his teeth scraping your earlobes, sliding to your pulse point. You shudder, your hips spasming down onto him as pleasure starts to rock your body. You’re close… so fucking close to that perfect paradise only Joel knows how to get you to. “I’d’ve fucked you right in that lobby, right in that car or that god damned plane. Want everyone to see what I do to my pretty wife, what I’ve got right here… fuckin’ mess only for me,” Joel murmurs, rambling on as he grunts over and over, giving you everything he’s got. His hands tilt your hips, holding tightly while he anchors you there. And he’s right, you are a mess. Dripping slick, coating your thighs, disheveled hair and makeup now from the pleasured tears rolling down your cheeks, wet, squelching sounds filling the hotel room that you haven’t even had a chance to see yet as your face is turned towards the corner near the doorway. It must be a sight, indeed.

“Y-yeah? Wanna s-show me off…?” you breathe out, voice trembling as much as your body is starting to. Your knees are jelly, shaking and barely able to hold you up when Joel delves deep, hitting that spongy part inside of you again, making your eyes roll back. Of course he does, you know he does - nothing brings Joel more joy than letting the world know exactly what he has.

“Fuckin’ know I do… all lookin’ at this tight little cunt takin’ my fat cock, my pretty pussy, all mine.” Joel’s body presses closer, and you’re trapped even more, the both of you damp with sweat and almost incoherent as you near your highs.

“B-baby… I’m -” you whine out, “Please…”

Joel has waited as long as he could, knowing what you need. He’d wanted you desperate for it, so close, your climax just within reach, before he took you over the edge. His hand on your hip curves forward, finding your clit, and you moan loudly at the contact on the sensitive nerves. Your body moves of its own accord, bouncing back into his thrusts wildly, barely noticing that Joel’s other hand has left your hip until it connects with your neck, hand wrapping around your throat. You gasp, the noise cut off into a small choke while Joel’s hand tightens and you croak out a moan.

“Oh my g-god… please…” you whimper again in a strained voice, hoping, no, begging for permission from him. He plays with you a little longer, feeling his cock harden beyond what he’d think possible, aching even inside of you for more, as he toys with you, making you wait. His hand squeezes your neck once more, a little harder, keeping the pressure on. You’re feral, your body screaming at you but you concentrate, holding back, your mind doing gymnastics to try to deny what your body wants so badly.

“Come.” Joel speaks the one word with finality, and you let go, your body shaking violently. His hand releases and you breathe in a full, round breath as you come, your pussy creaming so hard on his cock that you start to feel dizzy from it all.

“God damn, good girl… comin’ so pretty right now,” he whispers to your ear, the noise tickling your mind in the best way. Joel holds you up as you moan and whimper, his name falling off your lips in the way it always does in moments like these - worshiping him. You flutter and squeeze his cock like heaven incarnate, and Joel finds he can’t hold himself back any longer, spilling into you on the tail end of your own climax with a loud grunt, pretty praises for you off his lips.

You both collapse against the wall, Joel leaning against you, and you both catch your breath, the need gone for the moment after hours of waiting. You sigh, smiling in satisfaction when Joel pulls off of you, gathering you quickly into his arms, kissing you all over your head.

“That’s better, ain’t it?” he says teasingly, and you chuckle, nodding in his grasp. You both readjust yourselves, Joel helping you situate the clothing he’d haphazardly pulled aside in his frenzy earlier.

“Much,” you say with another sigh, leaning into him. “What time is our lesson tomorrow?”

“Not ‘till noon. Had a feeling we’d be… up late,” Joel replies wryly, and you laugh again.

“Such a planner,” you poke at him, raising your brows before tilting your head to kiss his cheek. You slip out of his hold and start to meander further into the room, jaw dropping for what feels like the hundredth time tonight while you take in the vaulted ceilings with those same warm wooden beams and white painted walls, a stone fireplace roaring in the center of the room across from the massive bed, adorned with rose petals. More roses sit atop the small breakfast table in a vase near the windows, and when you venture over there, the view you’re taking in is beyond stunning - the mountains in full view, moonlight shining over the entirety of the landscape and your eyes start to tear up. Champagne in an ice bucket, boxes of chocolate, fresh fruit, the entire works are all laid out - such a lavish, gorgeous display for the traditional romantic in you. You turn around finally, meeting Joel’s gaze, where he stands, a smitten look on his face as he watches you take it all in.

“Joel… What can I even say?” you gasp out, throwing your hands up before letting them hang back at your sides, defeated in the best way. “Thank you…” you say meekly, turning to peer out the window once more before walking towards him, throwing your arms around his neck.

“Thanked me plenty back there. An’ every day when you just be my good little wife, that’s thanks enough, doll,” Joel replies soothingly, stroking the back of your head. You lean your head against his chest, content to just listen to his heart beat for a few seconds, take in the memories of this moment. You lean back, tilting your head to give him a warm, grateful smile.

“Take me to bed?”

The next morning is far from the slow, romantic morning Joel had desired for you, realizing the both of you had forgotten to set any alarms and slept in well past 10:00 after your late night. It was barely giving the two of you time to get ready - a rushed shower and breakfast before hurrying to your skiing lesson. He’d dreamed about this hotel that he’d booked for months, the thought of waking you up with his mouth pressed deep into your cunt on that California King as he’d planned would have to be a distant fantasy as you two got on with your day.

Joel couldn’t help but stare at you the entire lesson, the way your face is lit up with pure joy in your ski gear as you fumbled to get the hang of things along with him. He’d gotten you ski pants, a jacket, gloves, and goggles - all the works that he knew was ridiculous for your first time on the mountain for that price tag. But he also knew you’d look just like this - adorable in your matching winter set, colorful goggles perched on top of your beanie and perfect lips curled into a never ending grin - and it made it all worth it.

Joel finds his own smile recounting the day as he keeps a steady hand on your back, the open back, low cut slinky dress he’d packed for you to wear to dinner tonight leaving plenty of skin for his hands to roam over as you two walk back to your room, full and contented. A candlelit dinner in the lodge’s shockingly expensive restaurant and a few drinks had you both feeling good as new again after your long day of skiing and mostly falling.

You two had laughed for hours as you’d fallen on your asses more times than anyone could count. Once you got the hang of it enough to get on the smaller slopes, you’d been unable to stop giggling the entire time, you and Joel catching up at the bottom just to ride the lift up again and again. You two flirted shamelessly the entire day like two teenagers, your heart swelling with so much love for your husband like it was your first date all over again. It was nice to have this uninterrupted time to just talk, get each other caught up on the other’s recent thoughts, feelings, and days that got lost amid the hustle of daily life.

Joel’s lips connect with the back of your neck as soon as the door to your room at the lodge is shut. “Like t’see those candy underwear again,” he mumbles to your skin, and you giggle a little too loudly, stumbling forward a bit.

Your brows wiggle as you try to crane your neck to look back at him. “That so, Mr. Miller?”

“Christ, y’only call me that when you’ve been drinkin’,” Joel teases, snaking his arms around to your front, holding you against him, the bulge in his dress pants becoming more obvious by the second as it hardens, pressing into you. “Can’t decide if it’s cute or jus’ makes me feel old.”

“No I don’t, Mr. Miller. And it is cute,” you demand, trying to hide the tiniest bit of a slur in your voice. Joel wasn’t wrong, you had been known to use that particular nickname for him after a few drinks, but you tended to be a bit of a bratty, indignant drunk.

“Thas right, ‘cause everythin’ you do is cute, m’little wife.” Joel says with a smile in his voice. His lips connect with your neck once again, trailing a few kisses down your spine. “An’ sexy…” he adds in a lower tone, one hand sliding to your hip, then your ass, squeezing hard before giving it a playful smack.

“Keep talkin’ if you want those candy panties to see the light of day again,” you reply, leaning back into him, your weight immediately welcomed by his warm, solid body.

“Oh, sweet girl, always gettin’ so bold with that wine, aren’t ya?” Joel’s hold tightens, one hand splayed across your torso and the other gripping your ass hard enough to bruise. “You forgotten who’s in charge here? Hm, baby?”

“A-actually, it was champagne…” you strain out, starting to pant as Joel’s hold goes even tighter, his domination quickly getting your thighs sticky, and you lament the fact you don’t have any underwear on right now. All at Joel’s request, of course, that you forgo any underwear at dinner tonight. You just whimper out a quiet moan, knowing you’ve gotten Joel riled up enough to keep going on his own volition.

“Think I don’t call the shots suddenly, huh? My sweet, sweet wife, we both know,” he pauses, mouth moving right next to your ear. A small nibble, his breath warm and tickling you in the best way right on sensitive skin sends a shudder through you. “That if I say put those fuckin’ candy panties on right this god damn minute, you’re gonna do it, yeah?”

Joel’s teeth suddenly sink into your neck a little, a tiny bite followed by a suck, and you nod desperately, silently cursing yourself for giving in so quickly, not giving yourself a little more time to play with him, let that tiny bratty part of you out of her cage for one of her rare appearances.

“Ain’t that right?” Joel repeats, giving your hair a little tug.

“Y-yes, Joel, yes baby…” you breathe out, and he releases your hair, his hold loosening on your body before he gives a loving pat to your ass.

“Good girl,” he coos, satisfied, sending another wave of heat to the apex of your thighs to hear his praise. A tiny moan slips out at the two words, still so effective after all these years. Joel chuckles, a tiny little huff off his lips as he spins you to face him. His hand cups your pussy through your dress, pushing the silky material between your legs before he tuts.

“Soakin’ yourself jus’ from gettin’ called a good girl…” he murmurs, lips getting dangerously close to yours. “Good. Girl.” he says with a smirk against your lips before kissing you. It’s long and deep, reminding you that behind the play and facade is an infinite amount of care for you - his wife, his forever.

He tears himself away, leaning his forehead against yours. “Now, go on and change f’me.”

You nod against him, then step back when he releases you from his hold. Breathless, on shaky legs, you rummage through your suitcase to pull out the candy set, smiling when you hold up the pastel treats, strung up on what might be the world’s flimsiest string. One minute in Joel’s rough, domineering hands and these would be toast, you think, almost laughing to yourself.

You see Joel go towards the fireplace, sinking himself down in one of the plush chairs there and crossing his ankle over his knee, settling back as he unbuttons the top few buttons of his crisp white dress shirt, watching you expectantly. You scurry off under his hot gaze, using the bathroom to change out of his eyesight before reemerging in his requested lingerie. You fight a giggle, wine still coursing through you while being reminded of the pure ridiculousness of this little stunt of yours.

Joel eats with his eyes first and foremost, sweeping them up your body as he finishes getting comfortable, unbuttoning and rolling up his sleeves. You stand in front of him, thankful for the warmth of the fireplace right next to the two of you in your skimpy ensemble, and take him in right back. Broad, muscled, just starting to show his age with more grays every time you blink, and you love it. Love every inch of Joel.

“On the ground,” Joel says coolly, and you smirk, trying to hide it into a submissive, coy smile. Your knees go first, the plush rug under them a welcome relief, pure fluffy luxury in a weekend full of it. You start to lay prone, chest heaving with anticipation, mind spinning and reeling, wondering what torturous loving Joel has in store, how much he’ll milk it all out just for your tiny bit of bratiness earlier.

“Jus’ like that, thas’ right.” He leans forward and smiles, a little devilish and boyish in one, and you think you fall in love again as you watch him moving, looming over you now. He quickly palms the outside of his slacks, just the quickest relief before sliding his hand away, starting to circle you.

“Where to start…” Joel trills, and your body heats up even more while his eyes dig into you. When he’s standing at your feet, he starts to come down, leaning his entire body over you. “Can you be a good little doll and lay still while I have my treat?”

Breathless, you nod. Your eyes roll back a little when you blink hard, trying to catch your breath. Joel’s lifted brow and stare prompt you without him even having to say it - use your words, darlin’.

“Yes,” you say more confidently, and Joel smiles sweetly down at you.

“Good.”

He starts slow, lips moving languidly across your belly, up to where the candy rests on your tits, lapping at the sweetness there for a few licks.

“Mmm…” Joel mumbles. He’s back on you the next second, sucking the candies right on top of your nipples. The friction of the hard candies combined with the tiny licks of his tongue coming through to the hardened buds has your back arching, hips searching for him. You squirm, panting now when he bites through the candy, grazing your nipple with his teeth. Joel’s hands come down, ever so gently guiding your hips back down to the plush rug underneath you.

“What’d I say about bein’ still?” Joel teases, holding you there now before going back to bite again, crunching the candies before using his sugary tongue to tease your nipple with a few flicks as it pokes through the hole he’s just made. You start to moan, already a lost cause for your husband, the thought of trying to keep your body still already torturous.

“I c-can’t help it… I’m sorry, sir,” you pant out when your hips lift again, his mouth working harder and harder on your nipples. He grunts disapprovingly and continues on until both of your nipples are free, surrounded by the rest of the candy bra. Joel seems like a man possessed, lost in it all while he devours the candies, sucking and licking each new patch of skin, a sticky, sweet mess all over your skin.

You’re aching, body tense and in hot, hot need of him now as he teases you over and over. Your thighs clamp tight, trying to avoid bucking them up into where his hard, clothed cock hovers teasingly right above you. His hand grips tightly to your hip, the string of candy taut between his fingers. He’s eaten enough of the bra that it’s starting to droop, fall off of you completely, and Joel tears it aside, scattering the rest of the candies along the floor with a tinkling sound that pulls you out of the moment for a beat as you turn your head to watch the treats roll away.

“Good girl, bein’ so good f’me… such a sweet little thing…” Joel says, lifting his head off of your chest, giving you ferocious, unhinged eyes and candy tinted lips, puffy and overused.

“J-joel… please…” you whine out, the way he’s looking at you pulsing right to your already soaking cunt. His hand slips underneath the panties while he keeps his eyes on yours, watching them roll back completely as he fingers your clit. Your hips buck, finally, unable to stop it and you feel your lip quiver as a shaky moan releases from them. Joel leans forward, his lips finding yours and kissing you zealously, a glace mix of him and the sweets has your head spinning as you lap the taste off of his lips and tongue eagerly.

“So sweet…” you mumble into his mouth, going back for more and more, until you’re feeling just as sticky and sweaty as he is, the slow burn starting to gnaw at you, your core dripping while Joel rubs the softest circles over your bundle of nerves.

“You’re perfect, y’know,” Joel breathes out, lifting his lips off of yours just the tiniest bit. “My perfect girl…” You moan when his finger suddenly sinks inside of you, too caught up in the moment to even notice when he’d delicately slipped it from your clit to your clenching hole. You suck him in greedily, desperate for anything he’ll give you and whimper.

Joel contorts himself, sliding down your body, keeping his finger moving at a languid, steady pace as his mouth now meets the candy panties, nibbling along the top of it. You’re losing control, unable to take the teasing anymore, the slowness of everything, your rough and ready husband nowhere to be found right now.

Your moans become breathier, urgent and panting out of you more quickly than you can handle, your mind going a little fuzzy and light as the feeling of Joel completely takes over you.

“There we go… jus’ float on away baby, let me take you there…” Joel coos from your hip where his lips graze against your skin as another few pieces of candy come off. You give him an affirmative noise, barely registered even by your own mind as your eyes slip closed, your body warm and tingling, so desperately close to the edge. Joel’s finger hooks upwards inside of you and you gasp loudly, your body wracked with spasms as you start to come onto his thick finger. Joel lets you freely writhe and shake now, not bothering to have you lay still while he fucks his finger against your g-spot relentlessly while you ride out the waves of pleasure. You’re whimpering, a complete mess, chest, face, cunt, all feeling sticky and completely used by the man you love.

Your head lolls along the rug a bit before you blindly reach your hand for Joel, grasping his shoulder with your eyes still lazing shut. “F-fuck me, please… please,” you whimper, lightly clawing at his dress shirt.

You hear one more crunch of the candies before Joel’s fingers hook on the sides of the delicate string and pull your panties off. You can feel him, his presence hovering above you as he sits back on his knees and you hear him unbuckling his belt, imagining in your mind the sight of his hard cock coming free, readying itself at your entrance. You can barely think about opening your leaden eyes right now, still on the heels of your climax as your chest heaves up and down. You can feel the warmth radiating off of Joel as he climbs on top of you, hands gripping your calves to lift your legs up enough for him to fit snugly between them.

You grit your teeth a little, grunting out a gratified moan when you feel Joel start to push himself in, your cunt fluttering as it accepts as much of him as he’ll give. You’re greedy tonight, you can feel it, just needing everything Joel can give you, how far away from reality he could take you tonight.

He pumps in and out, almost uncharacteristic in his tentativeness, more of his thick length going in each time, and you finally peek your eyes open slowly, hands reaching to his shoulders and pushing underneath the collar of his dress shirt, finding his warm skin. He’s moving slower than he normally would, and you find his face looking down at you with adoration, just content to watch your face twitch and contort with each unhurried drag of his cock along your silky walls.

“Lookin’ like an angel,” Joel comments, seeing your face sheening and glowing from your climax, hair splayed around your head like a halo - pure angelic beauty, a work of art that Joel could never tire of gazing upon. You smile softly, one of your hands stroking his cheek lovingly, soft moans streaming out of you while he keeps up the same pace.

“Baby…” you moan, “I s-said to fuck me, please…”

“I am, little doll…” Joel teases back with a slow push of his dick into you, and you shake your head.

“You know what I meeeeaan,” you whine desperately, fingers itching to reach down and grasp his hips, pull him into you harder. Joel’s hips twitch a little faster, starting to roll into you with more force and you sigh, head thrown back a bit more.

“What, like this?”

Uh-huh. You start to go a little breathless, legs wrapping around Joel’s waist, securing your calves tightly against him.

“You want me to use you up again, hm? That it? My poor baby, she jus’ wants this tight little hole to be so fucked out she can’t walk, doesn’t she?” Joel says, patronizingly sweet with the drawl of each word.

You nod desperately. “Please, sir, t-that’s…” you stop to moan loudly when he bucks into you harder and harder. “That’s all I want…” you finally choke out, Joel’s cock hitting you so deep you nearly feel your breath stolen right from your lungs.

“What my pretty wife wants, she gets,” Joel practically sings to you, bringing his lips down to yours for a kiss, letting his mouth sloppily work its way to your neck, starting to bite and suck while he crashes into you harder with each thrust. You can only make tiny noises, clutching him as your hands snake around his neck, holding him close to you. Joel grunts loudly between sloppy licks and sucks on your throat, his hips moving more clumsily as your walls squeeze him to the point he’s not sure how much longer he can hold back.

“God damn it baby, this little pussy wants me in there so bad, she’s so greedy,” Joel punches out right next to your ear. You shudder, hips spasming and only tightening you around him further. Joel groans loudly.

“Please…” is all you can whisper, out of breath as he hits deep inside of you with each new movement.

“Fuck, c-can’t… need to fill you up, darlin’, need you fuckin’ full of me…”

“Pleaaaase…” More urgently this time, lips dry from the way you’re sucking in oxygen in quick gasps, starting to feel your orgasm clawing at your belly, tingly and hot.

“Fuckin’ full of me… gonna fuck a baby into you, sweetheart. Give you my f-fuckin’ baby right now… m-make you swell up,” Joel pants, his face buried in your shoulder, biting down. You gasp, completely lost to the moment, fingers digging into his skin as you pull him in tighter, legs and feet crushed against his back. There are no two bodies here, only togetherness and sweat and breath - two people so lost in the moment and pure pleasure that they’re outside of themselves, becoming one frenzied movement to climb higher and higher to that sweet peak of relief.

“F-fuck… yes, yes, baby, yes…” you moan out. “Fill me up… d-do it…” you whine. With a stunted grunt Joel’s hips stutter forward, burying himself deep. The power, the emotion of it all as he starts to paint your walls tips you over the edge, fluttering tightly around him as you milk every bit of his seed into you, spasming and moaning as you reach another high.

“Oh my god…” you breathe out as you come hard, Joel’s ragged breath right in your ear softly moaning for you. The both of you fully collapse, Joel rolling to the side, clutching an arm around your chest. The crackling sound of the fireplace start to come back into your consciousness, the stillness and warmth of the room hitting you all over again while you lay back, feeling the stickiness of the two of you steadily leaking out of you. You’re speechless now, barely able to catch your breath, let alone process what Joel had hummed into your ear in the heat of the moment.

A baby. Did he really want that with you?

You two hadn’t discussed having children very often just yet, wanting to wait and enjoy being married, being just you two for a few years. But you felt your heart flutter a little, the thought of a little life inside of you, yours and Joel’s, a beautiful loved baby that you’d grow and nurture together. You can scarcely breathe at the thought, the love your heart swells with for this faraway notion, this unconceived child, already imprinting themselves onto your heart.

“Joel…” you murmur. His head turns towards you, and you watch light flickering around him from the shadows the fire is casting along his golden skin.

“I-” Joel stutters, seeing the look in your eyes. For once, he’s not sure he can quite read it. He knows he said something so much more tangible this time, beyond all the dirty talk the both of you love to get lost in. It was too much, surely, he’d scared you with it. “I’m sorry, honey, that was… jus’ caught in the moment, maybe…”

Your face falls a little, eyes dropping to peer past him with a sad look. “Were you?” you ask timidly, hands coming together on your belly and wringing nervously.

Joel’s eyes bore into yours, soft now, none of that feral fire that was there only minutes ago. He shakes his head slowly.

“N-no, no I wasn’t, doll,” he replies quietly. Your lips twitch a little, a small smile that you’re not able to hold back now.

“I, uh, I wasn’t either,” you tell him, and Joel’s eyes flash, lighting up a bit.

He turns completely on his side, and you do too, facing each other and scooting even closer. Joel drapes a hand over you, starting to rub lazy patterns onto your back. “So should we… uh, talk about this, then?” he asks, giving you a half, lopsided smile.

You give him a nod and a toothy grin, resting your forehead against his. “Get me those chocolates on the table over there and then we’re in business.” Joel moves without hesitation, winking at you as he pulls himself off the floor.

“Anythin’ f’you, darlin’."

You have no idea what hour it is, how long you’ve even been asleep when you feel Joel’s warm body pressing into yours, his chest now up against your back. The room is still nearly pitch black, making you take a moment to recall exactly where you are. You sigh, smiling softly at the memory of your trip thus far and you see a tiny sliver of light coming in around the blackout curtains in the room, clearly doing their job well by keeping you two asleep for god knows how long.

“Baby…” Joel whispers in your ear. You roll over slightly, your ass now rubbing into his crotch. Your eyes flutter slightly when you feel his cock, already half hard for you. Your insatiable husband, fucking you within an inch of your life for two nights in a row, and still coming back for more - a rare man of his age so voraciously consuming you over and over, never seeming to be satisfied.

“Hmm?” you murmur in reply. Joel wraps an arm across you, snuggling you closer, all warm heat against his broad, naked chest.

“Mornin’...” he mumbles back, lips pressed to your neck. “Sweet girl.”

“Morning, handsome,” you say, reaching an arm behind you to cup Joel’s cheek, running your fingers through his beard. He hums in pleasure, dipping his lips down to kiss your neck again. You shudder, digging yourself deeper under the plush comforter as you feel goosebumps covering your entire body. Joel’s hands start to roam, sliding over the skimpy, half see through pink slip you’d discovered in your suitcase last night.

Joel is suddenly shifting in the bed, and you feel the sheets rustling next to you before he’s bumping your legs as he climbs over them, settling himself underneath the comforter right in between your thighs. His touch just grazes over your plush thighs, soft and gentle, how Joel tends to be first thing in the mornings before he descends into the rough, possessive man that you’re more used to.

“So soft, little doll…” Joel murmurs from between your legs, his breath hot on your inner thighs while he leans down to kiss the outside of your panties. You just mumble incoherent noises of affirmation, still half asleep. Joel makes quick work of your panties, a pair to match the slip, of course, and pulls them down your legs, discarding them in the mess of sheets.

Your hips buck, a louder moan escaping you when his mouth finds your warm center, already wet and wanting for him.

“She’s ready f’me, ain’t she… waitin’ on her mornin’ wakeup,” Joel teases before running his tongue up your slit another time, flicking it on your clit a few times. A gentle suck there has your whining ramping up, hips begging him for more more more already. You’re barely even lucid yet and Joel is on the precipice of pulling yet another earth shattering orgasm out of you.

“J-jesus… please…” you beg, already feeling the familiar warmth pooling tighter in your core, your knees wobbling as they curl up, giving you some leverage to lazily push your hips against Joel’s tongue as it moves along your pussy.

“C’mon baby, fall apart f’me, s’okay it’s so fast…” Joel pulls back to murmur to you, kissing along your inner thighs as he speaks.

Your hand snakes below the sheets, burying your fingers into his lush, gorgeous curls, letting them massage his scalp as he dives back into your cunt, licking in just the right way he knows makes you go crazy with need, that makes you come within minutes, sometimes even much less.

You moan loudly, hips spasming as your climax surprises you suddenly, the waves of pleasure hitting you while Joel lets you ride it out onto his face. Your eyes roll back and you whimper quietly as you come down, flopping onto the bed with a content little sigh, body going limp. Joel kisses his way up your stomach, chest, and finally your lips, where you taste that primal honey of yourself on his lips. You quickly fall back into a dozing, lazy state before Joel wakes you again with his lips on your neck.

“Gonna order us room service,” he whispers near your ear, and you nod, finally opening your eyes to see your husband’s rugged, handsome face hovering above yours. Sharp smirk, stress lines, wild bedhead and all - he’s perfect, and you can’t help but smile sleepily in return.

“There she is,” he teases, giving your forehead a smooch. “One mention of breakfast and she’s all bright eyed ‘n bushy tailed, huh?” You stick your tongue out teasingly, waggling your head at him.

“How about we eat, then we can go explore the town, do a little shoppin’ f’you, see the sights ‘n all that, hm?” Joel asks, and you nod tiredly but excitedly.

“Mmm, sounds good,” you agree, blinking slowly as you try to wake up, finally coming to enough to recall the conversation the two of you had last night. The dreams you’d shared, hopes you had for having a child, all the ways your lives would change but also stay quite the same. The way your love would stay the same, deepen even, with seeing the other become a parent. Weighing it all carefully but with hopeful hushed voices, wondering if this was the right time for that next step for the two of you. When you’d both tearfully agreed that you’d start really trying in a few months after some more planning and thought, your heart soared higher than the clouds, than anywhere you could even conceive in your mind, chest tight with anticipation for all of it.

This morning that same feeling persists as you look upon Joel - so steady, so assured - everything you’ve ever dreamed of right here in this one man.

“How about we get some practice in while we wait for the food…” you suggest with your raspy, sleep laden voice, raising your brows at him as you feel his cock brush against you again, clearly hard and wanting.

“Baby makin’ practice?” Joel teases, scooping you up into his arms and peppering kisses all along the side of your face. “That kinda practice, hm? Not just an excuse to get me naked again?”

You laugh, turning your head to kiss him back, relishing in the familiar plumpness of his lips, the taste of your husband, all of it like a map you’ve traced your fingers over hundreds of times now, knowing every route, twist, and turn, filled with such a deep appreciation for the landscape laid out in front of you. You smile again as you two look at each other, feeling your cheeks starting to hurt from the way you’ve been grinning practically non-stop for the last two days because of your gruff but secretly so soft husband. Your hand moves upwards to cup his cheek, sincerity written all over you.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Joel.”

Joel smiles back, the same unspoken thoughts and deeply rooted loving care for you penned all over his features, entrenched in every weathered line, nook, and cranny of him.

“Happy Valentine’s, little doll.”

dividers by the amazing @/saradika-graphics <3

#fic: pretty little wife #joel miller #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x you #x reader #the last of us fanfiction

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agentmarvel · 7 months

Note

Can we have headcanons of fem!reader wife x 141 guys and how they each handle her leaving for girl’s night out in a really skimpy dress?

I think they’d all have hilarious reactions.😂

Omg yesssss

NSFW under the cut

MDNI - 18+

♡ Price:

Oh lord, that man is NOT letting you out of the house.

"Where ya think you're going in that?"

gets a little pissy when you remind him you have one girls night a month, and you have every right to wear whatever you want

"Doesn't mean you have the right to show anyone else what's mine, love."

will physically block the door with his whole body, knowing you won't be able to move him unless he allows it

he isn't mad - no, quite the opposite! it's taking every ounce of his self-restraint not to rip that damn thing in half and have his way with you right there on the foyer floor

"John, move. I don't want to be late!" - "Shame... You should've thought about that before you put on something you know damn well I can't resist."

he thinks it's cute when you argue with him, but you both know this ends up with your front pressed up against the door, panties pulled to the side, and his cock buried to the hilt inside you

after he cums, he pulls your panties back into place and gives you a harsh swat on the ass, not caring that your make up is a little smudged or that your legs are jello while he's giving you that smug look he wears so well

"Enjoy your night out, Mrs. Price. Hurry home."

♡ Gaz:

he's on you before you even walk out of the bathroom after you finish your hair

wraps his arms around your waist, puts his chin on your shoulder, tells you how pretty you look

"This dress new? Haven't seen it on the floor before."

ohhhhh, he is so down bad for you, even after as long as you've been together

makes it a point to grab a quick selfie bc he knows it's a solid confidence booster, and he wants you to feel as beautiful as you look

it doesn't really cross his mind that anyone would try anything on you - you're perfectly capable of taking care of yourself, and he knows who you'll come home to; he knows who's bed you'll be in tonight, who's name you'll be calling in the dark

he even helps you pick the right shoes, even though you know he picks his favorite pair in hopes of seeing you in just those when you get home

ever the gentleman, he walks you out to your car, reminds you to drive safe, call him if you have too much to drink, etc.

he does, however, make it a point to send you some downright raunchy texts and a photo of his more... physical reaction, just in case you needed some motivation to come home a little early

when you get home (early), he's still riled up; he's too impatient to wait for you to make it upstairs, much less to unzip your dress for you, so you end up riding him on the landing until he's too tongue-tied to keep telling you how hot you look

♡ Soap:

you're not making it out of the house. Period.

the SECOND Johnny lays eyes on you, it's over

he's grabby as hell, digging his fingers into any part of you that he can - squeezing your ass, your hips, your thighs, tits, tummy, anything - while he navigates you to the nearest surface

"Yer so fuckin' pretty, baby. Never seen something so fuckin' perfect in my god damn life."

it doesn't matter if you end up on the couch, the kitchen counter, in the back yard; he's eating your pussy like a death row prisoner's last meal until you're crying, trying to wrench his head away with the hair tangled in your fist

he has your dress bunched up around your waist, straps pulled down so he can play with your nipples, but uses the whole garment as leverage while he fucks you stupid

you should've known better than to put a t-bone in front of a starving dog and expect it not to bite

"Go ahead, bonnie; text your little friends, tell them you're not gonna make it, yeah?"

♡ Ghost:

"'course, love. Have fun, be careful, call me if you need a ride."

Simon isn't too worried initially; he knows there isn't going to be a single soul in that bar willing or able to face his wrath should anything untoward happen. but then he actually sees what you're wearing, and all bets are off

that's why he follows you, he tells himself, it has nothing to do with the insatiable urge to destroy your ability to walk tomorrow

nothing trumps your safety, in terms of his priorities. he's simply here to look out for his wife, right?

wrong. he spends the next hour and a half watching you from a darkened corner of the bar while his palms itch with a need to touch

opportunity knocks when you excuse yourself from the table, and he follows you into the restroom, slipping in before you have a chance to lock the door

you're not surprised to see him (duh, you know him better than just about anyone), but you are surprised to find yourself bent over the sink, looking Simon in the eye through his reflection. he's fucking you mercilessly, spewing absolute filth while he pulls your head back by your hair

"My perfect little whore, hmm? Waltzing around in that tiny dress, wearing my fuckin' ring, rubbin' it in everyone's faces that you only open those pretty legs for me."

he wants to cum on your face, but you pout about the possibility of it getting in your eye, or worse, on your dress, so he settles for letting you swallow it instead

his impulses return not much longer after you return to your table; instead, he texts you that he's ready to head out, and you are all too quick to oblige

#john price x reader #john price x you #john price imagine #john price headcanons #kyle gaz garrick x reader #kyle gaz garrick x you #kyle gaz garrick imagine #kyle gaz garrick headcanons #johnny soap mactavish x reader #johnny soap mactavish x you #johnny soap mactavish imagine #johnny soap mactavish headcanons #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost riley imagine #simon ghost riley headcanons #jj writes

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little-diable · 2 months

Note

DIABLE. I feel your lack of inspiration deep within my soul as I, too, have been struggling.

That being said, I'm back on my Cillian Murphy bullshit and would love to see some domestic Tommy, maybe after a really long day of blood and gore he comes home to a plush world of softness and love and consideration and he can turn it all off.

My darling, thank you for sending this in, it definitely inspired me! I hope you enjoy this little drabble. <3

Summary: Tommy will always do what his wife asks of him, especially when he needs a few calm moments himself.

Warnings: nothing, just nudity, full on fluff and fun

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x fem!reader (about 800 words)

Somewhat of a follow up Drabble

It was a mild August evening, a day that had been too hot for (y/n)’s liking which had passed all too slowly. Perhaps it had been the fault of all the running around she had done – whatever it was, the second the kids had been put to sleep, she had told their staff to leave for the night, desperate for a few hours of silence.

The second she had been left alone, (y/n) had hurried outside, shoes long forgotten as she dragged the old, ceramic tub through the garden. Sweat had pooled on her forehead, forming pearly drops that dripped down to the ground, but she had been determined, set on cooling off while watching the sunset.

She had run back and forth to fill the tub, arms and legs begging her to slow down and rest for a minute or two. But (y/n) hadn’t stopped moving until the tub had been filled to her liking. And with a satisfied grin glued to her lips, she had shuffled out of her dress, underwear following moments later.

Her squeals had echoed through the evening as she had sunken into the cold water, unable to stop her laughter from clawing through her. She had been grateful that nobody else was around, they surely would have called her a hysteric madwoman, calling the doctors on her for the childish glee the cold water had shot through her veins.

(Y/n) was too focused on the sunset to hear the call of her name, she was also too distracted to pick up on the confused expression tugging on Tommy’s features as he spotted her through the windows. With a cigarette between his lips, he slowly stepped outside, undoing the buttons of his jacket as he moved closer.

“What a nice view to come home to, eh?” She jerked in surprise as Tommy spoke up, forcing her wide eyes towards her grinning husband. Tommy’s gaze wandered down her throat, watching the water drops stick to her soft skin. The water was clear enough to expose every inch of her body, leaving Tommy groaning as he dipped his head down to kiss her. “Tell me, how did that tub end up right here?”

“Well, what do you think? I doubt the faeries miraculously carried it over here.” A deep rumble of laughter vibrated through Tommy, momentarily reminded of the stories he had read to their children the night prior, feeding their obsession with faeries and mystical creatures. “Will you just stand there or join me like a good husband would?”

Tommy watched her for another moment before he threw his cigarette to the ground and began to shrug out of his clothes, exposing his body inch by inch. (Y/n) pulled her knees to her chest to make room behind herself, grinning in excitement as he began to step into the tub.

“Fucking hell, do you want me to freeze my cock off?” His curses left her giggling, eyes sparkling with mischief. But Tommy kept on moving with curses rolling off his tongue, till he finally got into a seated position. He pulled her against his chest with a hum, pressing a kiss to her cold cheek.

“How was your day?” (Y/n) murmured her words, eyes closed, head resting against Tommy’s shoulder. He interlaced his fingers with hers, letting his thumb run over the back of her hand with slow movements.

“Exhausting, sometimes I wonder if I’m still made for this life. I’m getting old, eh?” She froze in his grasp, let her eyes shoot open and slowly turned towards him. Her eyes wandered over Tommy’s exhausted features, instantly able to pick up on the hurt flushing through him, the anger he couldn’t shake, and the greedy desperation he had never been able to feed well enough.

(Y/n) cupped his cheek, she pressed a kiss to his lips before she began to speak up, “You’re anything but old, dear husband of mine. And trust me, if I’d feel like you’re getting old, I’d instantly sell you to the faeries.”

Loud laughter rumbled through him, a sound so carefree, (y/n) hadn’t heard it in a long time. And with a widening grin stuck to her lips, (y/n) pressed another kiss to Tommy's lips, knowing that their evening together was just about to get exciting.

#Tommy Shelby imagine #Tommy Shelby x reader #peaky blinders imagine

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jqnehr · 1 month

Text

꒰ 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 : 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞 𝐚𝐬 𝐳𝐚𝐲𝐧𝐞'𝐬 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐲-𝐚𝐭-𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐟𝐞… ꒱

word count: 950 contains: domestic fluff, crack, my shitty writing strikes AGAIN zayne x female!reader note: guess who's brainrotting again!! 🥰 I haven't posted for l&dps in a hot minute so uh here y'all go (those requests are still sitting in my drafts bro im so sorry 😔) masterlist

⟡ …is fairly uneventful. but it’s the kind of unexciting lull that’s peaceful, not boring. you get up in the morning, turn the ac on, lay out his work clothes and shoes and towel for his morning shower, before heading to get the coffee machine going. you don’t mind having to get up so early in the morning for him; making his bento lunch boxes full of food that would be bound to get him through the day. zayne treats you like a queen, his hefty paycheck leaving more than enough for him to arrive home with a little bag from some expensive jewellery shop, presenting you with either a lovely gemmed pendant, a dazzling pair of earrings or stylish bracelets.

⟡ …is relaxing. when he leaves for the day, you having helped him into his coat and him bidding you goodbye with a long, loving kiss, you get to blast your favourite songs and get on with what housework that needs to be done. once the chores are completed, you can chill for the rest of the day—sometimes, you just settle for being a couch potato and binge your favourite dramas with an entire tub of ice cream, maybe do some baking (i.e., chocolate brownies or cake that zayne adores), or you head out to do some grocery shopping, treating yourself along the way.

⟡ …is amusing for those around to see. from time to time, zayne is rather in a rush and forgets to pack his lunch box that sits on the bench, ready for him to take. this provides you a perfect excuse to visit him at the hospital, tapping on his office door at a certain time when you know he’s free—which is, of course, lunchtime. the idiot usually works through his lunch break. the scolding he receives upon your arrival always has him quickly turning off his computer and obeying your orders.

“you forgot your lunch box again this morni—” looking up, zayne sees you standing frozen in the doorway, his blue bento lunch box in your hands, staring at him with this expression of pure disappointment that immediately tells him what’s coming. resigning himself to his fate, zayne steels himself for a lecture in 3, 2, 1…

“how many times do i have to tell you to actually take a break when it’s break time?” slamming the lunch box down on his desk, zayne watches his wife plant a hand on her hip and jut a finger at him, then the bento box. “do i have to come down here everyday to monitor you like a fussing mother hen? i’m going to start calling you at twelve pm, on the dot, if you don’t get your act together, zayne!”

slipping his glasses off, he reigns in his annoyance and reaches for his bento box. he can smell the still-warm food within it, and his stomach instantly rumbles in hunger. eating meals made by you is always a highlight of his day. “no need, my dear. i’ll set a reminder—”

“rubbish! you said that last week when i barged in here, catching you spending more time with your damn computer and documents than you do me.”

“love, you need to understand that i have a lot of work that needs doing—”

“of course i understand that! but whenever you skip your lunch breaks, you come home grumpier than usual, you grumble at me when i don’t do something right, and complain of a headache! it also sends your evol off kilter, putting you in danger! i hate to be that one nagging wife, but sometimes it’s like i’m taking care of a seven-year-old who refuses to eat his brussel sprouts, and then wonder why he’s not getting any taller.”

so zayne did as he was told and ate every morsel in that bento box under your strict, watchful eye. dr greyson ushers the other interns away from the office when he heard you two ‘arguing’, the young kids snickering to themselves at the sight of the unapproachable, frigid chief cardiac surgeon zayne hastily obeying his wife’s every order.

⟡ …is sometimes stressful. zayne occasionally has these vigilante tendencies, roaming around the alleyways way past his due hour home and wiping out all these wanderers without sending you a single text about it. it leaves you absolutely worried sick, and the beratings he receives immediately upon his arrival home are ten times worse than the ones he’s subjected to when he forgets his lunch box.

⟡ …means there are ‘terms and conditions’ established. he makes the money, but you run the shop. your shared apartment is spacious and very modern, yes, but there’s still quite a lot of vacuum cleaning and window-washing to do. zayne respects that you’re the woman of the house, and never misunderstand that your marriage is a mutual effort. you both love each other very much, and you hardly ever fight (apart from petty arguments over who’s doing the dishes tonight). just because zayne works all day does not mean he doesn’t have to pull his weight around.

⟡ …means his days off are spent sleeping in, making love, and spending what time you have together preciously. you’ll go out to eat or go for a walk along the beach. he’ll tell you about his week, you’ll comfort him over the patients he couldn’t save. it never helps that he always beats himself up over it. no matter how much you try to tell him it wasn’t his fault, that sometimes there’s only so much he can do, he’ll always feel responsible. zayne may seem like a cold, unfeeling man, but he’s likely the most empathetic, humane person you’ve ever met.

it's the RATE at which feminism leaves my body whenever this man shows up 🙏

I apologise for this, it was written on a whim when I am supposed to be studying for my history assignment due next week!! 🥰 oh well <3

and I'd just like to say this - if this has already been done before, then I can tell you right now that I did not know. I don't want to have another anon enter my inbox saying "erm actually this is really similar to [this person]'s post 🤓☝️" and basically accuse me of being a plagiariser. because I wrote this, as I said, on a whim while eating my avocado on toast after doing my dailies on l&dps, not after reading some other author's fic and going "hey im gonna write that", because bro ☠️ that's crazy. so if it is similar to someone else's, I apologise! I genuinely did not know (I can't stress that enough) 💛

#zayne love and deepspace #love and deepspace #zayne love and deepspace x reader #lads zayne #zayne x reader #love and deepspace zayne #zayne fluff #zayne x you #lads #zayne #I have 54839753925943 things I should be working on but instead im posting this #pray for me guys im about to wither away completely 🙏#I also have a very bad headache anyways LOVE YALL!!#zayne love and deepspace headcanons #love and deepspace headcanons

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satoruhour · 10 months

Note

how nanami would react to you (his wife) being needy when he comes back from work pls <3

a/n: hehe / 1.6k

warnings: f! masturbation, pleasure dom nanami, pet names, usage of sex toys (vibrator + dildo), nanami listens in for a bit, clit stimulation, oral (f! receiving) / cunnilingus, face-sitting, clothed sex, a bit of degradation, p → v penetration, riding, cowgirl, unprotected sex, creampie / breeding kink, implied second + subsequent rounds, n*sfw under the cut

“honey?” nanami calls out to the seemingly quiet home. there’s no sounds coming from the kitchen, which is a normal occurrence for you, pots and pans clanging in a rush to make sure dinner’s ready before your husband returns, even after he insists that there’s no hurry. but of course, he’s overtimed for quite a while, leaving the office around 7.30, so he doesn’t think it’s weird that you aren’t in your usual apron and slippers.

but he doesn’t smell dinner, either, the faded fragrance of whatever it is you planned to make wafting through the house; nothing. and then fear takes over as nanami scours the place, dress shoes clicking uncomfortably on the floor reminds him of an explosive — maybe you’ve been taken hostage, maybe you have a bomb attached to you, but the further he enters into your home, the more he doesn’t hear the matching sounds of a timer against the heel of his shoe.

it’s more of a low hum, when he finally ascends the stairs. one step by one step, nanami gets closer to the source: an unceasing buzz of a toy, and your quiet whimpers muffled by the duvet, the thrashing of your legs and the squelch of your dripping cunt as it sucks in your dildo. your husband internally sighs in relief, but he kicks out the previously terrifying vision before and focuses on your sounds.

“ken— s-shit…” nanami wipes his sweaty palms on his slacks, sparing a glance to the dick print already showing through the fabric and thinking if he should respect your space to let you finish or if he should just offer to help. ah, nanami, always the caring husband, but he knew chivalry would only make you more needy, so he sounds a quick rapt on the door and opens it, arriving to the sight of his pretty wife spread out so nicely.

“ah! what- kento!” your hair is tousled all over, some sticking to your skin. with chest heaving, you try to catch your breath as the toy you’ve been using dies out, clearly not able to take your multiple lacklustre orgasms. from the door, nanami’s eyes shift down to your cunt, wet and soaking the sheets, your cute apron swiped to the side. his eyes soften just a little seeing your fucked out expression, and even more so at the way you don’t cover yourself—

nanami makes you feel so damn good about your body that you have no room for insecurity and he thinks you look like an absolute goddess like this, imperfections and all. the soft pleas leaving your mouth is just the cherry on top.

“hey sweetheart… need some help?” and he feels his heart clench when you nod shyly and mutter a soft ‘please‘, hand reaching for his once he comes close enough to the bed. your husband goes in for a passionate kiss, twining his fingers with yours as the other sifts through your hair. it’s always vulnerable with nanami, laying down and pulling you atop him easily.

“no, baby,” nanami has one hand on your middle to stop your hips from moving, brushing the hair that falls out from your barely-together bun behind your ears, “want you to sit on my face. can you do that, sweetheart?”

“but what if i…” you pout, holding the hand that fumbles with your hair, pressing a soft kiss to his open palm.

“aht, aht, what’d i say about worrying about me?” nanami just smiles, ready to suffocate between your thighs, at the mercy of your sweet arousal. he nudges you forward as you scoot up his body knee by knee, until you’re hovering over him. he can smell you from here, puffy clit jutting out from how many times you’ve cum rubbing it. just after are your folds, leaking pure nectar that starts to pool; his tongue laps it up before it drops. “i’d be happy to perish if it was your pretty little pussy suffocating me.”

you roll your eyes even when his words had a clear effect on you, “since when were you so dramat— f-fuck!” nanami dives in without warning, licking and sucking your clit with his tongue, eyes closed from enjoying his meal. your lover groans, pulling you down more and more although you still subconsciously hover, “put your weight on me, princess. do it.”

nanami plunges his tongue into your hole, nose nudging your clit and it’s the one thing that gets you releasing your hold on your thighs, choking out mewls of desperation as you grind down on his face. soon, your hands take hold of his blonde hair, too, tugging on him to get him deeper. there’s a sharp inhale from below you and you meet his eyes, the stoic, dead look and yet you know the look of the overflow of love and lust for you anywhere — it can only be found in nanami kento’s eyes.

“k-kentoo… feels s’good…” you moan, pulling your weight back to support yourself with your arms, with the intent to land a hand on his aching dick. you squeeze, earning a low groan from the other at your sneaky move and he removes his mouth from you for a second.

“sneaky lil slut, aren’t you?” nanami laughs breathlessly before latching back onto your pussy, sending vibrations through your body when you press down on his cock once again. he loves it, hips lifting off the bed to meet your hand, while yours ground down on his relentless tongue.

“dirty baby… mhmp— my pretty, pretty wife sitting here, frilly apron and all,” nanami reaches up to turn your face down towards his, “fucking herself while i wasn’t home. i’m not sure if she deserves to cum.”

you immediately whine, the prospect of being denied your orgasm makes you delirious, abandoning your initial mission to tease as you switch to grinding your lower half into nanami’s face. “kento— i wanna cum, p-ple— oh, fuck!”

his tongue has descended to your hole, his thumb rubbing your clit instead. the sensations are too much, back arching and legs closing in around your husband’s head. “’m close— can i c-cum, please? please please mmfh—”

he could never hold you back from what’s natural, after all, he loves seeing you come apart, moans stuck in your throat and skin glimmering with a slight sheen of sweat — he’s memorised how you cum at this point, and you do just that when your thighs thrash around his head, hips stuttering as you come undone.

“cumming—! ’m cumming, ’m cumming!” you cry out his name, riding out the delicious high. nanami doesn’t stop his ministrations, helping you through your climax until you’re pushing at his shoulders because you’re so sensitive.

nanami is far from done, though, helping you to scooch back down as he sits up, capturing your lips in a slow kiss. you taste yourself on his mouth, cumming so much that when you pull away, there’s a string that connects your lips together and nanami has to compose himself.

“you okay?” you wordlessly nod, making quick work of his pants, hearing a relieved sigh escape from the other when his cock is finally out. he has a pretty dick, always in awe before you have to take him, but you do it with no problem, the mushroom tip stretching your hole as you sink down on him. you’re so wet that your juices are dripping down his shaft, easing your way down as he mumbles praises in your ear, sending the hairs on your arm standing when he lets out a guttural groan once he bottoms out.

“there’s my girl… taking me so fuckin’ well,” nanami pecks your forehead as you start to move, arms looped around his shoulders for stability as you bounce on his cock, cries of his name interrupted by your moans. “feel so tight for me, shit.”

“’s all for you, kento,” you babble, tits bouncing as you make work of your hips. your thighs feel like cramping, your core is aching, but nanami’s fat cock just feels so good in you, filling up every part of your cunt that you can hardly give a shit, “my pussy’s y-yours… ah!”

“yeah? mine for me to cum in?” nanami wraps his arms around you, both of you falling back though it doesn’t stop your man from thrusting up into you. it’s so deep, hitting a spot that you let out a loud whimper, body limply sagging against your husband’s as he continues to ram into your poor, little cunt. with each thrust, there’s the slap of his pelvis against your ass, your cum making webs that connect his hips to your core and he’s groaning about how you got so tight from wanting to be filled.

“ye—yeah, yeah, wan’ your cum, kento,“ you mumble with a whine, your second orgasm approaching while your let him ruin you, cumming on a particular thrust that has your body tensing and muscles spasming, profanities and obscene sounds falling from your mouth before the man below you grunts.

“good girl, t-take my cum, baby,” nanami whispers, receiving drunken ‘yes’s’ from you and his thrusts halting before his eyes are rolling back, spurting his seed into you. he releases deep into you, thick ropes of cum that fill up your pussy until it’s spilling out from the sides. “that’s it…”

but while nanami is ready to receive your drowsy, lovestruck state, you have other plans, sitting up just a little while your hips continue to bounce on him. small pants leave your mouth, the sloppy, lewd sounds that your pussy makes only spur nanami on again, holding your body close to his while he promises to take care of his wife like a good husband does, indulging in your indecent desires, fucking you like a good girl and pumping you full of his cum until it’s all you can think about.

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gglitch1dd · 1 month

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Ochako!COME ON GIRL! WHAT ABOUT GIRL CODE?! :(

I imagine the reader talking to her and be like: "I DON'T WISH YOU TO SET A FOOT ON MY HOUSE, or else I'll ruin you and your reputation..." the reader hisses.

"He will never leave me because he has his priorities, and these priorities are his sons; you are just a warm cunt" and reader leaves like a boss and Ochako is standing there like: 🧍🏼‍♀️

Warning: Infidelity, sidechics.

I like the way you think honey! However, reader is better than Ochaco. She knows who she is and she knows the level she's at. If she ever did see Ochaco around I think it would go like this:

You stood watching Izuku as he talked to the Prime Minister, he was laughing with other high ranking government officials. You held a glass of champagne, dressed in white, gold and green, the colours of your husband's family name.

You heard the clacking of shoes as someone came to stand next to you. She gave you a fake smile, one that you had believed time and time again before you found out about your husband's infidelity. "Y/N. Evening."

You gave her a fake smile. "Ochaco." That was all you gave her as you turned back to look at Izuku. It was easy to identify him by the fact that the two of you always wore matching colours at events.

Ochaco sipped on her champagne, dressed in a pink and white dress, but you noticed emerald earings in her ears. You let out a silent tsk. Shameless. "Has Izuku been busy lately?" She asked you.

"Why do you ask?"

She hesitated before shrugging. "I heard from his PA that he's been taking on less work and we agreed to meet up to solve a case but he hasn't gotten back to me." She told you.

You glanced at her before looking back at Izuku. You let out a sigh. "My husband is focused on his priorities at the moment, so if he says he's busy, I advise you heed his words." You advise her.

Ochaco glanced at you with dark brown eyes. Her smile turned tense as she let out a low chuckle. "Izuku, is-"

"I'd like to remind you, Ochaco that he is my husband." You remind her with a glare of your eyes. "And you should mind the way you address him, especially since he is your superior."

She let out an offended scoff as she turned to look at you. "And I would like to remind you that I've known Izuku since we were sixteen."

"And isn't that so wonderful for you." You smiled tensely. You took a step closer to her as you kept your smile up for appearances but your eyes said anything but. Ochaco flinched as she looked at you, your eyes cold and empty as you stared at her. "The next time you sleep with my husband, I'd like you to remember a few things." You whispered making her eyes grow wide at your words. "I am the Number One Hero's wife. I am the woman he married and the woman he impregnated. I am the one who gave him five sons that are his world. So when you're lying with your legs opened, remember that he would never leave me for you." You stepped back as you placed your champagne glass on a passing waiters tray. You turned back forward. "Just a reminder."

Izuku walked over to the both of you, but his eyes stayed on you. "There you are." He smiled as you looked up at him. He placed a kiss on your forehead as you held onto his forearm. You grinned up at him, keeping up the appearance of his perfect little wife. "Ready to leave?"

You stepped forward as you leaned against his shoulder, him taking you away. You nodded. "Very." You stated as you walked with him away from Ochaco.

-Glitch1d

#mha x y/n #izuku midoriya x reader #izuku x reader #deku x reader #dilf midoriya #dilf deku #mha deku #mha izuku midoriya #bnha #izuku midoriya x reader angst #midoriya izuku angst

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jarofstyles · 10 months

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More DAD!Harry pleasssseee like baby boy pouting because he wants to be treated like a big boy and Harry can't help but kiss his chubby cheeks????

PLEASNJENJRF I love dadrry so much

Check out our Patreon!

------

"What is the frown for, peanut?" Harry's voice echoed in the kitchen as he saw his son sitting with his arms crossed in his booster seat. The tv show themed plate and cup set sat in front of him, Y/N having served lunch to them both and excusing herself to grab her own. "Do you not want this?"

It was his favorite. Grilled cheese that Y/N had cut into smaller squares, goldfish crackers, cut up grapes and strawberries neatly arranged on the plate and apple juice in his cup. He couldn't quite see anything wrong with it, but he had been reminded that toddlers changed their minds about their likes all the time.

"It's baby." He whispered, looking at the printed cup. Paw Patrol characters decorated the sides of the sippy cup. "Don't want to be baby. I want to be a big boy." His eyes looked up at Harry's, the color strikingly similar to his own as his brows furrowed.

"What demean, mate?" he looked at the food. "Nothin' too baby about it. Looks like a great meal that mumma made for us. Don't you like Paw Patrol?" the man reached out to brush some of the curls from his son's face, heart clenching a bit. He was the perfect mix of his younger self and his wife. He was growing up much to fast for Harry's liking. It felt like just the other day that he had been in the baby sling while Harry did the dishes, trying to keep him asleep by singing as to not disturb an exhausted Y/N who had just fallen asleep on the couch.

"It's baby." He looked down, kicking his feet. The light up shoes activated as they hit against the side of the table, feeling a little shy with his father's attention. "Want a big cup like you. Please?" His little voice tugged at his heartstrings, the earnest want in his tone making him purse his lips.

"Well... we can, but I have to say, I may steal the cup for myself." He sighed, looking at it in faux longing. "I've always wanted a cup like that. It's too cool for me though. Besides, it makes sure there's no spills. Y'don't want to get all sticky with the juice if it spills over, right?" He rubbed over his little cheek, watching as he visibly worked through what his daddy had said. It was a wonder to observe, seeing someone so new to life have such obvious emotions and though processes on his face.

"You like the cup?" He peeped. "It's cool?" his hands tugged at the bottom of his shirt as he looked at the cup Harry had taken in his hand. Seeing his father show interest meant it must be cool.

"I do. It's the coolest, and besides.. Mumma looked for ages for this cup for you." He smiled. "Why don't you use It for a while and we can get you a big cup in a few weeks, okay? I may steal the cup if you don't want to use it."

"No, Daddy! It's mine!" giggles left his now bright eyes. "You ca borrow it but.. it's cool. You said so. " The chubby hands reached for the cup which the man handed over, feigning hesitation.

"Okay, my lovely. But you better watch your back. I may come and take it."

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daycourtofficial · 3 months

Text

Bad Idea

Summary: feeling a bit neglected by your mate, you decide to try to make him jealous by dancing with another male. Very little plot, mostly just smut ngl.

Warnings: Azriel is a mean dom, so uh literally.. spanking, cockwarming, degradation, light choking.

Author’s note: fuck it, I want jealous Az, and dammit I’ll have jealous Az. Also I’m headcannoning that Az wears boxer briefs idk why I feel like he’d like the sleekness of them.

You knew it was a stupid idea. Stupid, stupid idea. You couldn’t help yourself, though. Your mate had been gone all week on a mission, his return culminating in everyone at Rita’s - dancing, drinking, having a good time.

Your mate kept talking to his brothers, hardly passing you a second glance when a male approached you at the bar. You looked to see if he’d noticed, and growing tired of his lack of attention, you decided to indulge the man at the bar. Truth be told, the man wasn’t really interested in you. You two struck up a conversation about your shoes, leading you to discussing your own mates.

Wren, he told you, was here because he loved dancing, but his mate did not. You could understand the sentiment, the same opinions being held by you and your mate. So you asked Wren to dance and made your way to the dance floor.

You danced for what felt like hours with Wren, having an incredible time. Lost in the music, through the haze of alcohol, it was easy to push aside your feelings of neglect. Every so often you’d look towards your mate, only to find him looking elsewhere. You and Wren left the dancefloor for some water, him telling you he should be on his way home. You bid each other farewell, and you realize your mate is nowhere to be found.

You stumbled home, forgoing your heels a block from Rita’s. The house is dark, not a single light on inside. You roll your eyes walking up the steps to your door, assuming Azriel was still speaking with Rhys and Cassian somewhere.

You slipped through your house, tossing your shoes on the floor as you walk up the stairs to your bedroom. You pushed open your bedroom door, closing it softly behind you. You pad through the room, reaching to unzip your top when a heavy weight presses into your back, pushing your front into the wall.

You start to scream, but a scarred hand wraps around your mouth. The force has your hands above your head with one hand, your mouth covered with the other.

“That’s no way to greet me, my love.”

Your mate’s voice eases the primal fear deep within you, but the tone of his voice causes a new fear to ripple through you.

“In fact,” he says, his whisper sending chills down your spine, “nothing you did tonight was an appropriate way to greet your mate after a week away.”

You muffle some sounds, trying to explain to him that he wasn’t even looking at you for most of the night, but he keeps his hand steady on your mouth, curling some fingers around your jaw to keep it locked in place.

His wings wrap around both of you, coccooning you from the world, as if his next words were meant only for the two of you.

“You’re mine,” he whispers, “my mate, my wife, my soul.”

He releases your hands, but the loss of contact is quickly replaced by his shadows holding your hands together.

“I’ll spend however long it takes to remind you of that fact, until you’re so fucked out you’re just left a drooling, twitching mess.”

He releases you from the wall, your weight sagging from him holding you up, but before you can fall, he holds you around the hips, dragging you to the bed. His shadows were in a frenzy around you, and he pushes you down onto the bed, your back hitting the mattress.

“I’m not the only one possessive of you,” he says, as shadows start swirling around your legs, your arms, your waist, your neck. You tried to lift yourself up, but they held you down. Azriel turned, walking to the bar cart you two kept in your room, pouring himself a glass of whiskey as his shadows held you down.

“They were so upset with you,” he says, the whiskey coming close to his lips. “They wanted me to make a big show in Rita’s about who you belong to, but I told them to wait, and I’d let them have their fun.”

Two shadows traveled up your thighs, and your eyes widen, remembering what’s underneath your skirt.

“Don’t worry,” he drawls, sitting in his leather chair to have an unobstructed view of you. A shadow swirls behind your back, unzipping your top and pulling it off of you. They do the same with your skirt, but they leave your overly optimistic crotchless panties and matching bra on. “I’ll make my way to you, eventually.”

Your mate tsks as he looks at you, his shadows holding you down so you can’t move. They start touching your entrance, their cool, airy touch leaving you needing more.

He stands a few feet away from you, his drink in his hand as he watches his shadows hold you in place to keep you from squirming. Your back arches as they snuck under your bra, pinching your nipples. He chuckles into his drink as a few shadows start circling your clit, your moans a clear indication of how good they feel against you.

His shadows found their way in your shared bed, usually assisting Azriel in touching you or holding you down. On rare occasions such as this, Azriel lets them do as they please, allowing them to lay as much claim to you as he does.

It was euphoric the way they caressed against your exposed skin, never staying still. They whirled and swirled up your legs, your arms, through your hair, around your waist, your breasts. They were enjoying this time with you.

Azriel walks over to the bed, lust coating his eyes and his scent as he asks, “had enough yet?”

You open your mouth to speak, but some shadows circle your neck, applying a light pressure so you can’t speak. Your futile attempts to respond cause him to smirk and in a flash the shadows have stopped roaming your body. Your skin warms at the loss of their cool touch, and you start to move your arms when scarred hands replace the shadows, keeping a harsh grip on your wrists.

He leans down, practically laying on top of you as he leans in and tells you, “undress me.”

Your thoughts still, that need for his skin coming back to you. You sit up immediately, reaching to unbutton his shirt, but he stops you.

“Undress me without touching my skin.”

You whine at your mate knowing exactly why you did everything that led you here. You sit up, hands shaking as you unbutton his shirt. He even turns around so you can undo the buttons underneath his wings. You can’t stop yourself from staring at them, their veins just calling out to you to stroke them, that one spot that you know drives him wild calling to you like a siren.

He chuckles at how long you’ve spent observing him, your eyes taking in every inch of his back. The toned muscles, the tattoos on his upper back, the spot where his back meets the wings.

You find yourself starting to reach out, your fingers inches from his wing when he clears his throat.

“I’m still wearing pants,” he says, in an unimpressed tone. You gasp, the trance on his wings broken as he turns around, allowing you access to his front.

Your eyes roam his torso, the tattoos on the front completing the shapes from the back. You watch his chest rise and fall as he breathes, as your eyes get caught on that line of hair that delves into his pants.

You reach a hand out to undo the laces of his pants, your hands shaking a bit as you do so. From need for him and from fear of punishment if you break another rule, you’re not sure which is influencing the shaking of your hands more.

You take a deep breath as your hands find the top of his pants, taking extra care to avoid his skin. You start pulling his pants down, receiving no help from your mate until they are around his ankles and he steps out of them.

You look at him, standing there in his black boxer briefs, practically drooling thinking about what lays underneath them. You’re gazing at his thighs, looking at the toned muscles he trains every day. He flexes a little at your gaze and you gasp at the movement.

The urge to run your hands up and down his thighs is taking over your senses, until his hand grabs your jaw, moving your gaze to look at his clothed hardened length.

His silent command gets you moving again, and you grab the waistband of his undershorts, pulling them down, taking care as it moves over his length.

His hard cock springs up, hitting his abdomen as it’s freed. You moan at the sight of it, but continue your quest to pull them all the way down. He steps out of them again, and moves to the side of you to lay down on the bed.

He lays there for a beat, his Adonis-like stature warming you from the inside. He grabs your waist, moving each of your legs to straddle him, but keeping you about a foot away from him.

He lines up his hard cock to your entrance, leaving you to hover a few inches away from him. You moan, needing him to let you slide onto him, needing him inside you.

“P-please,” you moan, practically drooling at the sight of the pre-cum spreading down him. He purrs, “My greedy little mate needs my cock, does she?”

You nod your head, but he tuts at you. “Use your words.”

You look at him, his teasing smirk telling you just how much he’s enjoying this. “Can I p-please sit on your cock, feel you inside of me?”

His smirk deepens, and he tells you to go ahead. You start sliding him into you, moaning at the way he’s stretching you. He’s still keeping you in place with his hands, and he helps you guide down onto him.

Once you feel him completely fill you up, you start to move, only to be held back. His hands keep you still, not allowing you to budge. You whine, needing to ride him, needing to fill him pumping in and out of you. He sees how desperately you need him and smiles.

“But darling, this is what you wanted, isn’t it?”

It’s too much, you need to move. His hands were pressed so hard into your hips, keeping you both in place and keeping himself as deep into you as possible. You can feel them digging into your skin, leaving perfect finger shaped bruises to be found tomorrow.

You could have been sitting there for minutes or days and you’d have no clue. Time crept on, your mate keeping you in the same spot, despite your whining and pleading.

His shadows kept busy, keeping a hold on your hands behind your back, but also by circling your nipples, pinching you. They continued swirling up your thighs, enjoying overstimulating you.

The stimulation becomes too much, with tears eventually leaking down your face, which the shadows gently caress away. Azriel finally speaks, his long silence another form of punishment. His words are usually full of praise for you, except for when you misbehave.

“Now, why am I doing this to you?” He asks, looking into your face.

“Because I was a bad girl.”

He spanks you, hard, the action startling a whimper out of you. His hand rests back on your hips, keeping you in place. “Tell me every bad thing you did tonight.”

And so you did, each action earning a swift slap on your ass.

“I left you to go to the bar by myself.”

Spank.

“I talked to another male.”

Spank.

“I danced with another male.”

Spank.

In between each confession, he held tightly to your ass, rubbing the pain in. At this rate, you’ll hardly be able to sit tomorrow without feeling the sting of this punishment.

After finally reaching the point of the night where you had greeted him with a shriek, the tears were streaming down your face, your ass covered in his hand prints.

“Now, who do you belong to?”

“You.” You tell him, tears clouding your vision. “I won’t disobey you again.”

He chuckles lowly, “oh I know you won’t.” He lifts you off of himself, a whine coming from you as he pulls you off his cock. “Now you’ve made quite a mess on me,” you look down, his thighs and cock covered in a sheen of your juices. “Clean it up.”

Hands still behind your back, you lean forward, licking his thighs, tasting yourself mixed with his sweat.

“Can you taste the desperation?”

You whine, as he holds your head down to his thighs. After successfully cleaning both of his thighs, he guides your head right in front of his cock, the tip mere inches from your mouth.

You’re staring at it, needing it inside you, watching pre-cum leak out of the tip, when he laughs at you.

“Drooling over my cock already?”

You blush, not realizing you had actually drooled over the appendage in front of you.

“Do you want a taste?” He asks, and you nod vigorously. “Stick out your tongue,” he tells you, and you immediately obey. He allows you to roam his cock with your tongue, tasting both of your juices mixed together.

“Put me in your mouth.”

You open your mouth, allowing him entry, and he immediately begins pushing in and out of you. He grabs your hair, holding you in place. You look up at him and he makes direct eye contact with you as he pushes himself as far into your mouth as he can go. He tells you, “I’m going to cum in your mouth, but you’re not allowed to swallow it. Got it?”

He pulls a little harder on your hair to tell you he’s serious. His shadows hold you in place as he fucks your mouth, until you feel him pick up the pace.

After a minute of his intense thrusting, he’s cumming in your mouth, his hot seed shooting into your throat.

“Now open.” He tells you, and when you open your mouth, he smirks at the semen in your mouth. Before you realize it, he spits in your mouth and tells you to close it.

“Now,” he tells you, his face right in front of yours, “no swallowing. I want you to be full from my cum in your mouth and your cunt, in hopes you can get it through your dumb little head that you belong to me.”

He’s pushed you onto your back and has slid back into you. An attempt at a moan comes out but is blocked by the semen in your mouth.

He chuckles, “you don’t want to know what will happen if you swallow before I tell you to.”

He starts pumping into you, filling you with his cock. He’s thrusting in and out of you, and you’re not sure you can take anymore when he moves a hand down and begins fingering you.

You close your eyes and tilt your head back in pleasure, unable to moan because of the cum in your mouth. You’re getting close, all of his attention and teasing being too much. You feel it building for both you and your mate. You know he’s close, his speed increasing drastically.

“You’re going to swallow right as I cum in you. Can you do that? Can you be a good girl for one minute?”

You nod your head yes, but the ecstasy you feel is making thoughts incredibly difficult. He wraps a hand around your throat, his thumb stroking the front of your neck.

“Swallow. Now.”

It all happens so fast. You swallow the mixture of spit and cum, the salty tang sliding down your throat. Azriel finishes inside of you, his cum filling you up triggering you to finish.

You lay there, him on top of you. Both of you are panting, unable to form thoughts or words to describe what just happened. Azriel rolls off of you, moving to your side.

He strokes your cheek and asks, “You okay?”

Your hand slowly rises to his field of vision, and you give a thumbs up. He laughs, caressing your face before getting up and getting you a rag. He comes back, helping you clean up while you’re half asleep.

“You’re hot when you’re jealous,” you tell him, falling asleep as he discards the washcloth and crawls into bed with you, wrapping you into his arms.

#acotar fanfiction #azriel #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel fanfic #azriel smut #acotar writing #azriel x y/n

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zepskies · 6 days

Text

Calculated Risks

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x F. Reader

Summary: You and Ben argue about your commitment to being a working mom. When a rogue supe gets loose at Supe Affairs, mayhem ensues, putting not only your life at risk, but your daughter’s as well.

AN: Welcome back to the BMD-verse, friends! Did you miss these two as much as I did? Plus, get ready for a heavy dose of fan-favorite Frank. (And Lila, of course!)

Word Count: 7K

Tags/Warnings: Familiar bickering, a mission gone awry, angst, hurt/comfort, fluff.

Catch up on the BMD-verse. ⤵️

💚 Break Me Down Masterlist

In four years of marriage, one thing that had never changed between you and Ben was this.

“All right, you’re being a little too much right now,” you said in irritation. “Of course I’m not sitting this one out. I’m the one who found us the damn lead in the first place.”

The man was following you from the adjoining bathroom and back into your shared bedroom, where you began getting dressed for work in the blouse and pencil skirt you’d laid out for yourself.

Your husband had already donned his supe suit, sans helmet. He stood just behind you with his arms crossed, a familiar surly frown on his face. When you turned around, he hadn’t moved an inch.

“I’m being too much? You’re the one who’s not being fucking reasonable,” he said.

You rolled your eyes and moved past him to find your shoes. For this skirt, you really needed heels. Your most comfortable black pumps would do. You grabbed the closet doorknob for balance as you slipped them on, giving him a look of exasperation.

Ben held firm on his stance, but inside, he had a feeling you’d chosen this outfit on purpose. You knew he liked this whole sexcretary look on you, with your hair let down around your shoulders. The skirt and heels just brought his eyes to the delectable curve of your ass.

But again, he was holding firm.

He’d been called in on this case partly because Annie was on maternity leave. She was due in just a few weeks. Which meant “Soldier Boy” was definitely needed to help out Butcher and his merry band of assholes. By now, Ben had gotten used to them.

“Look,” you said, “Slingshot has been causing a lot of havoc, and the police haven’t been able to catch him. You heard Grace. This is an ‘all hands on deck’ situation.”

“She always says that shit. Doesn’t make it true,” Ben retorted.

“This time it is,” you said. “I’ve already put in tons of man hours on surveillance for this guy. I want to get him off the street.”

Ben held you by your arms. “That’s exactly my point. You’ve been putting in way too many hours.”

You shook your head. He just didn’t get it.

“If I hadn’t, we wouldn’t have this opening now,” you said. You gave him a smile to try and lighten him. “Now he’s all teed up for you and the guys. This should be in and out. Practically a milk run for you.”

“Yeah, but not for you,” he pointed out. “And not for Lila. You’re stretching yourself too damn thin. It’s not like we need the money.”

Ahh, now we get to it, you thought. Yet again, he was bringing this up. In his mind, you should’ve cut your hours at Supe Affairs after Lila was born.

You did take an extended maternity leave of an entire year and a half, which was much more than women usually got from their jobs. However, because of your relationship with Grace and the entire team, you’d been allowed to come back whenever you felt ready.

Ben had often felt it necessary to point out that with his money, you didn’t have to work at all.

He knew very well that for you, this work was more than a job.

“I’m not the first working mom in existence, Ben,” you said, pushing out of his hold. “And I’ll remind you that Supe Affairs has a great daycare program. Lila’s very happy there.”

Plus, she was almost three and a half years old. In less than a year, Lila would be off to preschool.

“And look, it’s not about the money,” you added. “I told you before Lila was born. I am a mother, and I’m your wife. But I’m still me.”

Ben processed that for a moment, meeting your gaze.

“The situation’s changed,” he replied. He grasped your hips this time. His thumb gently brushed over your belly, which had a small bump under your high-waisted skirt.

You were finally pregnant again. Three months, in fact, and you were having a boy. You knew that Ben had several reasons to be more protective than usual…but still. You thought you were already taking every precaution to keep you and your children safe, even with the occasionally extensive hours of your job.

“These cases can be long and difficult, not to mention dangerous,” said Ben. His green eyes met yours as he looked down at you through furrowed brows. “You’re putting yourself at risk.”

You blew out a breath and tried to placate him, soothing a hand over his chest.

“I’ve stopped doing field missions,” you pointed out. “And Supe Affairs is the most secure building in the city. Do you think I would bring Lila there if it wasn’t?”

The security team at the S.A. was bar none, not only because Loco was a part of that team. Frank was also your personal bodyguard; Ben hired him back when you found out you were pregnant with Lila.

In fact, Frank was coming to the house in a few minutes to pick you all up.

Ben frowned. “I think you’re being stubborn just to be fucking stubborn.”

That sparked at your temper. Again, you withdrew from his arms and crossed yours.

“I think you need to face the fact that I’m protected as well as I can be,” you said. “I also think that you’re trying to use this as a way to shoehorn me into some antiquated idea of what you still think a wife should be. I’m gonna tell you right now. That’s not me! It’s never been me. And you know that.”

He opened his mouth to give an angry retort, but you beat him to it.

“It’s like you don’t even care about what I want,” you snapped. “Just what you think is right—for me to be here waiting for you to come home, quite literally barefoot and pregnant, ready to rub your balls!”

Cliché as it might’ve been to say, if the shoe fit, then you were certainly not going to be the one to wear it.

“You know what, you can accuse me of being stuck in the fucking past all you want,” Ben said, raising a finger, as well as his voice. “But the problem here isn’t me. It’s that what you want is goddamn idiotic!”

Your mouth fell agape. “Excuse me?! I can’t even believe you right now!”

Ben fairly loomed above you when he shouted back.

“Well, that makes fucking two of us!”

His voice was loud enough to reverberate on the walls. You even flinched, but you held your ground with a glare…

Until you heard a whimper.

You and Ben paused, and turned to find Lila. The three-year-old was cowering a bit in the doorway to your bedroom. Her eyes welled up with tears, and she began to cry.

Your heart broke.

“Oh, honey,” you breathed. You were both apologetic and mortified as you quickly went to her.

Ben was close behind you, but while Lila was quick to melt into your arms when you picked her up, she shied away from his attempt to reach out to her. What would’ve been a placating hand on her head, turned into him pausing in surprise when she ducked.

“Lila?” he prodded.

He tried to mask how put out he was by his daughter hiding her face from him, burrowing into your neck instead. She was usually a daddy’s girl, through and through.

You shot him a knowing frown, while rubbing her back in comfort.

“It’s okay, baby,” you told her. “Your dad and I were just…talking. He didn’t mean to shout.”

When Lila only whimpered in response, Ben’s gaze dimmed in understanding. His lips pursed.

You saw that look on his face, and you wanted to sigh. Part of you felt bad for him, at the way Lila had flinched away from her father. In a way though, maybe it was a lesson he needed to learn.

Frank arrived a few minutes later in a black SUV, like he did every weekday morning to bring you all to work. Ben was quiet and taciturn climbing into the backseat on one side, and you clipped Lila into her car seat from the other side. He still made sure that she was strapped in correctly, and even tried to earn his daughter’s gaze.

She snuck a glance at him a couple of times, but quickly lowered it to play with one of her favorite stuffed animal toys (a little German shepherd that he had gotten for her).

Ben let out a long breath through his nose. He gave Frank a nod through the rearview mirror, and the other man peeled away from the house.

The four of you rode in silence away from your house in Scarsdale, towards New York City.

Ben’s mood remained grim, even when you all got to Supe Affairs. Frank held back while you and Ben stopped in the hallway with Lila. You were carrying her, and she was holding onto you and her stuffed animal like a lifeline instead of looking anywhere else—namely at Ben.

You sighed and tried to pull her back enough to see her face.

“Daddy’s gotta go to work now. Want to say goodbye?” you encouraged.

All Lila could manage was a shy look in his direction. Ben laid a gentle hand on her head, over her dark hair.

“Bye, sweetheart,” he said.

Lila didn’t answer him. She just bit her lip and stayed withdrawn.

You and Ben shared a glance. He was hiding it well behind his usual stoicism, but this was hurting him. There wasn’t much either of you could do about it now, however. You both had work to do, and the mission would have to come first.

“I’ll be online in a bit,” you told him.

First, you needed to take Lila up to daycare before Frank accompanied you to your office. There you’d be able to join the mission from your computer and put your headset on. Aside from surveillance, you were their virtual eyes on missions.

So Ben tacitly agreed, and the two of you parted ways.

You went up to the second floor to drop Lila off at daycare, where you set her onto her feet. You could see that she was quiet and almost sad, not as bright and talkative as usual. And she was clinging to your hand. You bent down the best you could in your skirt, so you could meet her eyes.

“Are you still upset with your dad?” you asked.

After a moment, Lila replied, “Daddy’s loud.”

You couldn’t help a rueful smile.

“Yeah, he can be,” you nodded. “But he’s gonna work on that, okay? He loves you very much.”

She finally smiled a little when you pressed a few sweet kisses to her cheeks. You felt a little better about leaving her with Sarah, the woman who ran the daycare center. She was kind, but well-organized, and good at her job of wrangling fifteen or so toddlers on a daily basis.

And she was hovering off to the side with a smile, waiting to shepherd Lila over to where the rest of the group were starting at the arts and crafts table.

“Okay, baby. I love you. I’m just downstairs if you need me,” you said, caressing Lila’s cheeks, brushing her hair away from her face.

She nodded and waved goodbye. Sarah then stepped in and guided the girl over to the crafts table. The other kids were already drawing and coloring with crayons and markers.

With a sigh, you knew you had to get to work. You joined Frank out in the hall.

“Did something happen this morning?” he asked. You gave him a weary look.

“Something always happens. I’ll fill you in when we hit the elevator,” you said.

“Kids are resilient. She’ll bounce back,” said Frank, when you two got off the elevator down to the basement, under the first floor. This was where the “heavy stuff” happened at the S.A.

“That’s not the point, Frank. He hasn’t snapped at me like that in a long time, and he really scared her. That’s not fucking okay,” you said. “He needs to learn to control his goddamn temper.”

He sent you a knowing glance. You rolled your eyes.

“Okay, I know I don’t always help. But in this case, I was justified,” you said. “Ben was being an ass.”

“Right,” Frank nodded. “It’s not at all that he’s worried about you.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “Whose side are you on?”

The man remained silent, but his stoic face wasn’t fooling you. He’d been your friend for much too long, and he knew Ben just as well…which was why you found yourself reconsidering what happened this morning.

“You really think he has a point?” you asked. “Am I working too much?”

Frank shook his head and opened the door for you into the Surveillance Department. The two of you ventured to your office, where your quadruple monitor setup was waiting for you. He also had a desk for himself, since he often spent the long hours of your day with you.

“When you were pregnant with Lila, you were on maternity leave by now,” he pointed out.

“Because we had no idea what was going to happen,” you countered. You went to your desk and started up your computer. “I had to meet with Tonya once a week, ultrasounds and blood tests all the time, making sure Lila was healthy, that I was healthy. This time around, we have a better idea of what to expect.”

For example, you were experiencing bouts of super strength once again, but it was still intermittent. Although, you pretty much never needed coffee. Maybe the supe genes coursing through your system, thanks to your unborn son, was part of the reason why you’d been able to go such long hours for these cases.

He's already brightening up my life, you thought with a little smile, holding a hand over your lower belly.

“It’s your choice,” Frank said at last. “But it is possible that Ben cares about more than just making you a suburban housewife.”

At that, you sighed. There was nothing wrong with being a housewife, you knew. It just wasn’t…you.

Once your computer and monitors were booted up, you connected to the right channels and put on your headset.

Already you could hear M.M. bitching about keeping the weapons trunk organized, not just tossing things in haphazardly.

“It’s a simple fucking system, Frenchie. You can at least abide by it,” M.M. said. “We don’t have time to be scratching our asses while you try to find a—”

“Hey, Bert and Ernie. Would you shut the fuck up already?” Ben groused.

Your mouth twitched at his grumpiness.

“A little testy this morning, ey guv?” Butcher remarked.

“Gargle my ball sack,” Ben replied, with an even grouchier deadpan than usual.

“Do you kiss your child with that mouth?” Frenchie teased.

“Nah, just your mother’s French hole,” Ben slung back. You rolled your eyes.

“All right, all right. Put the measuring tapes away,” you interrupted. “I’m online, locked on your GPS.”

“Well, if it ain’t Mrs. America herself,” Butcher drawled. “Got a lock on Slingshot’s location for us?”

“You know it,” you replied. “Sending to the group chat now. Slingshot’s been spotted entering a strip club in Chinatown.”

“Jeez. A little early for tits and booze. It’s 10:00 a.m. on a Tuesday,” said Hughie.

You heard Ben huff in amusement. “It’s never too early.”

You snorted at that.

“Right. I’ll remember that next time you fall asleep watching Family Feud,” you clipped back.

You heard the other guys trying not to laugh as they got into Butcher’s van. Part of you felt bad for teasing Ben, knowing he was already in a bad mood, but you were feeling a bit petty about what happened this morning.

You had to bite your lip against a smile, as you could picture the ill-tempered face your man was likely sporting.

And we’re off.

Lila wasn’t having a good day.

She didn’t feel like coloring, and the toys just weren’t fun today.

She just didn’t want to be here. The other kids smelled like old Cheetos and feet (especially the boys).

She missed you. And though she hadn’t wanted to admit it to you, she missed Daddy too.

Lila wanted to go home…she wanted her mom.

“I’m just downstairs if you need me,” you’d said.

Lila had a kind of plan percolating in her mind, all through the morning, and even through lunch time. She didn’t want to get in trouble, but when she’d asked Miss Sarah if she could go see you, she’d said you were at work and couldn’t come get Lila until later.

But that’s not what Mommy said, Lila thought.

After lunch, she laid on the napping mat with her pillow and blanket, even though she was wide awake. She didn’t want to nap with the other kids, even though Miss Sarah told her it was time to sleep.

Again, Lila didn’t want to be bad. She didn’t want to get in trouble either, but she really, really just wanted to see you.

And you’d said it was okay to go downstairs if she needed you, right?

Lila closed her eyes while Miss Sarah was looking, but she waited until the teacher went into her office to answer a call. Then, Lila carefully put Charlie, her stuffed dog, against her pillow, tucking the blanket up to his neck.

She crawled off her mat and snuck over to the door while Miss Sarah was distracted on her phone. Lila reached up and was just tall enough to twist the doorknob. It led her out of the room, and out into the empty hall. She then looked both ways for a clue on where to go.

She heard a ding, and looked over at a nearby pair of elevators.

The mission went more or less according to plan. Slingshot’s abilities allowed him to stretch every part of his body like elastic. It not only made him hard to catch, but even harder to maim without collateral damage.

A whole block in Chinatown was wrecked in the takedown, but your idea of ripping the cables from a nearby utility pole to electrocute him let Ben finally subdue the elastic supe. Kimiko knocked him out, and Butcher slapped some tight-ass cuffs on him and dragged him into the van. They returned with the rogue supe in custody.

You were mentally exhausted from helping them track down routes to pin down Slingshot, but you were relieved to be done. You were also satisfied that another danger to society was neutralized, for now.

You took pride in your work, and you didn’t think Ben saw that, or thought it was important. You supposed that was what upset you the most about that fight with him.

Sometimes, you wondered if he would ever truly change.

You grabbed your purse and made sure to slip in your gun and taser. You left your office and greeted Frank, who had just finished making his rounds in the building with Loco’s team. Frank joined you on the way to the elevator.

“I meant to ask you, how’s Alana doing?” you asked. Alana was his daughter, who was now in college.

“She’s changed her major yet again,” he said wryly. “This time to philosophy.”

“Philosophy? That’s interesting. What does she want to do with that?” you asked.

“No fucking clue,” he replied, hitting the button for the first floor. “I just hope she gets bored and picks something practical. Like…teaching, or dentistry.”

You shot him a bemused look. “Dentistry?”

“As much money as I put into that girl’s braces, it’d be good for her to pay it forward,” Frank said, in a surly tone that reminded you of Ben. You had to laugh.

You and Frank exited the elevator and started down the hall.

You planned to touch base with Grace Mallory on the safety measures of Slingshot’s containment before he was put into custody. The idea was to house him in a prison cell that could actually hold him until he went through the legal process.

But you’d only gotten halfway down the hall before the supe in question literally stretched past you on unnaturally long legs—in a blur of his white and blue supe suit. Your eyes widened on a gasp as you watched him head toward the elevator you’d just come off of.

“Fuckin’ hell, we’ve got a runner!” Butcher shouted from down the hall. He along with Ben, M.M., Frenchie, Hughie, and Kimiko were rushing your way.

It all happened so fast.

You registered Frank shooting out a protective arm in front of you. You turned back to see the elevator doors had opened back up, and Slingshot rushed inside. He made eye contact with you.

Then his arms shot out like rubber bands. One of them knocked Frank into the far wall. You gasped and froze on reflex.

Ben shouted your name; he was running towards you, getting closer. You were able to meet his wide eyes for a brief moment. He reached out for you, but those stretching arms closed around you first. You gasped when they slung you backwards.

You cried out in shock when your back met a surprisingly solid chest.

Meanwhile, Ben barreled the rest of the way down the hall as the elevators closed just short of his angrily furrowed face.

The stretched arms holding you were tight around your torso, making your grit your teeth as you tried to pull away. They twisted you around so you could face your captor. Or so he could see you.

His natural height was around Butcher’s—dark hair, blue eyes, angular features. He gave you what was probably meant to be a suave smile as those baby blues dragged down your body.

“Hey, baby. Nice heels,” he said. You rolled your eyes.

“So that’s why they call you Slingshot,” you said, still a bit breathless. The elevator started to move. He’d chosen the top floor. “Where do you think you’re gonna go?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” he snarked. “Anywhere but here. And you’re gonna help me.”

“How? Being a human shield?”

“For a start,” he smirked down at you. He backed up a step just to take another proper look at you, and he whistled lowly. He took your chin between his sweaty fingers, making you grimace when he stroked your cheek.

“Down boy,” you said warily. “Trust me, you really don’t want to do this.”

This jackass hadn’t even realized you had a small, but noticeable baby bump.

“Why not, babe?” he grinned. “You’ve got the whole sexy librarian thing going on.”

You heard a loud creaking sound outside the elevator doors. The compartment itself came to an abrupt stop, making the lights flicker.

“What the fuck?” Slingshot muttered. His hold around you loosened.

You had an idea of what just happened, with grim satisfaction. You also took advantage of his distraction and managed to slip a hand into your purse.

You pulled out your taser. Slingshot noticed and tried to grab you again, but the elevator somehow started to move in reverse, about a foot a time. It made both of you lose your balance and utter sounds of surprise.

As soon as you regained your footing, you aimed the taser at the most sensitive place you could think of—the supe’s dick and balls.

His howls of pain were loud enough to reach Ben, Frank, and the rest of the team on the third floor. Ben’s face became edged with a smirk.

He kept pulling the elevator cables down until the compartment’s doors were in reach. There he grabbed the doors and pulled them open with his bare hands, crunching metal under his fingers. The moment he saw you, the relief in your eyes, he grabbed your hand and pulled you out, into his arms.

Slingshot was angry, though he managed to recover, rip off the taser’s metal prongs and wires, and evade Kimiko, M.M., and even Butcher when he slithered his way out of the elevator and around their guns. The bullets ricocheted off the walls, and off his body as they followed him down the hall.

Ben focused on you. He brushed his half-gloved hands over your shoulders and sides while he quickly looked you over. There was worry in his eyes, disguised as anger. You caught your breath and held a protective hand over your lower belly out of reflex.

“You okay?” he said, but you were already nodding before he asked.

“I’m fine,” you replied. “Just get him. I’ll get Lila.”

Ben nodded. He shot one last firm look at Frank, who was back at your side. Frank laid a hand on your shoulder as Ben took off down the hall to find Slingshot.

“The stairs are safer at this point,” Frank said.

“I would have to agree,” you said, steeling yourself with a breath.

While you and Frank went downstairs to the second floor, you didn’t see the second elevator ding, its doors opening to your daughter, who ambled out alone. She looked one way down the hall, but hearing her father’s voice carrying down the opposite way, she started venturing in that direction.

If she couldn’t find you, then she’d find her dad.

“What the hell do you mean you lost her?” you shouted at Sarah, the woman who was supposed to be looking after your daughter. “How do you lose a three-year-old at nap time? What kind of incompetent fuck are you?”

Yes, Ben had unfortunately rubbed off on you.

Sarah was in tears by the time you were not even halfway done, but Frank calmed you down with another touch to your shoulder. You had tears of panic stinging in your eyes when you met his gaze, your mouth trembling.

“I just radioed in and put Loco and the rest of the security team on looking for Lila. She can’t have gotten far,” he said.

“Come on! Keep up with me, old man,” Slingshot taunted at Ben. His super flexibility allowed him to keep several steps ahead, dodging any attempts to grab him and any weapons fired with easy dips and playful deflection.

“When I get my hands on you, you flaccid fuck, you won’t know your ass from your ball sack,” Ben growled.

But he crashed into the wall when he took a corner too hard trying to tackle the other supe. He picked himself up from the debris of crumbled wall and plaster, ignoring Kimiko’s offer of a helping hand.

“Big fucking talk from the walking AARP commercial,” Slingshot snorted. He turned around and once again prepared to run. “Try not to shatter a hip, asshole!”

He took off down another bend in the hallway. Meanwhile, Ben shook himself off and joined the others in running after this cocksucker. Ben looked over at Butcher.

“What’s your fucking plan?” he grated out.

Butcher seemed to have an idea growing in his mind. “What’d she do to him in that elevator?”

“Tased his dick, by the sound of it,” Ben replied. He knew what weapons you kept in your purse, and that you'd know better than to fire a gun in an enclosed elevator. Butcher snapped his fingers.

“Electricity. Bloody brilliant,” he said. He pointed at Hughie and grabbed Frenchie by the collar. “You, with me. I’ve got an idea. The rest of ya, get him pinned down.”

“Easier said than done, motherfucker,” M.M. grumbled. But he followed Ben and Kimiko to find their errant supe.

Slingshot played a cocky game, but inside, there was fear.

They’d caught him once, and now, this building was crawling with security, let alone the assholes chasing him.

He was panting for breath when he nearly ran straight into…a kid?

She was wandering around, trying to open a locked door. He skidded to a stop in front of her, and she looked up at him wide-eyed. He tilted his head. She was a cute little thing with brown hair and green eyes. She wore a blouse with cartoon ducks on it over her jeans and sunshine-yellow shoes.

“Hey, cutie. Where you going?” asked Slingshot. “Are you lost?”

“Looking for my mom,” she answered, a bit timidly. The supe gave her an easy smile; inside, he knew he’d just found his collateral, and his ticket out of here.

“Okay. What’s your name?” he asked.

“L…Lila,” she said.

“Pretty name for a pretty girl,” he said, with all due charm. He struck a pose, with his fists held up to his waist. “I can help you, Lila. I’m a superhero.”

Her eyes widened. “Really? Like Daddy?”

“Oh, yeah. Your dad and I are friends.” Never mind that he had no fucking clue who her daddy was. He offered her his hand.

Now, Lila knew not to talk to strangers, but if he knew her dad…

After a moment of reluctant indecision, she took his hand. Slingshot tapered a smirk into a more friendly smile.

“Let’s go find him.”

Ben was ahead of the pack, but he soon came to an abrupt stop with wider eyes. He finally found Slingshot, except he had Ben’s daughter by the hand. Slingshot wore a cocky grin as he took the child up into his arms.

“Hey, guys. Who’s this little peanut belong to?” he asked. “Said she was looking for her daddy.”

Ben’s breath turned to lead in his lungs. Lila’s eyes lit up with recognition when she saw him.

“Daddy!”

Ben’s softer gaze shifted from her, hardening once it reached the other supe.

“Let her go,” he growled lowly.

Slingshot’s grin deepened incredulously as he laughed.

“Oh shit, she’s yours?” he exclaimed. “This’s just too fucking perfect.”

“Lila!” your shout came from behind Ben, and you stepped around M.M. and Kimiko.

Ben held out a hand to keep you at bay. He kept his eyes on Slingshot, but Ben heard your gasp. His stomach dipped, knowing your worry had to be reaching new heights as you took in the situation.

“Ben,” you uttered.

“I’ve got this,” he said to you.

“You don’t got shit, old man,” Slingshot snapped. He shot you a smirk next. “She’s your bitch? Figures.”

“Just let her go,” you implored. You had tears brimming in your eyes. “We can negotiate your release if you promise to be more responsible.”

Ben shot you a glance then. He didn’t intend for this fucker to live, let alone walk the streets of New York again. But he supposed any bluff was worth it at this point.

Meanwhile, seeing the distress on her parents’ faces made Lila begin to break down into tears. She whined, pushing against the supe holding her, wanting to be let go.

“It’s okay, sweetie,” Slingshot cooed. “You’re just gonna take a little trip with me.”

“No!” a ragged shout tore from your throat when he took a few backward steps down the hall.

Ben held you back from following him, all while he tensed with rage. M.M. and Kimiko were also poised to try and stop the supe. But Slingshot tightened his hold on Lila in warning.

“Back the fuck off,” he demanded. “Once I get to JFK and get my ass on a plane, maybe, maybe you see your daughter aga—”

He had to stop short, as he sensed something just outside of his peripheral vision.

It was Butcher, coming at him to swing a baseball bat at the supe’s head.

You screamed in protest, but Butcher was relying on the supe’s reflexes to dodge the bat. He wasn’t disappointed. Slingshot dodged. Though in his distraction, it gave Ben the opening he needed to step into his orbit and land a solid punch across Slingshot’s face.

It not only cracked his jaw, but also caught him off guard enough for his grip on the child to loosen. Ben grabbed his daughter and turned her away in a protective embrace.

Then Frenchie brought Slingshot down with the prongs of a massive taser clipping onto his nipples. He jolted and screamed—and went down hard on the tile floor.

While Hughie and M.M. ushered in the rest of the security team to swarm in and take the supe into custody, you raced forward to Ben and Lila in tears.

Lila was also crying and clinging to Ben’s neck, shaking like a leaf.

“It’s okay, sweetheart. I’ve got you,” he said quietly, so only she could hear. Lila whimpered and burrowed tighter against his neck.

Tears streamed down your face, but you tried to breathe through it. You rubbed her back and checked her over, making sure she wasn’t hurt.

For Ben, the force of his relief was pounding in his ears. He briefly closed his eyes as he held his daughter closer.

When he opened them again, he met your gaze. You couldn’t speak. All you could do was grab onto his wrist for support. He gave that to you, wrapping his free arm around your waist and pulling you into his side.

“Frank,” he said. His voice was a sharp command. The other man was ready to carry out whatever Ben asked. He also looked relieved to see that Lila was all right.

“Pull the car around,” said Ben. Frank nodded, and went to do just that.

Ben turned to watch in satisfaction when Frenchie and M.M. hauled up a still twitching Slingshot. Butcher slapped a pair of electroshock handcuffs on him that would keep him better contained this time—courtesy of the S.A. armory. He nodded over at Ben, and the latter returned the gesture.

You missed it all, as you were preoccupied with comforting your daughter.

“It’s okay, honey. We’re going home,” you gently whispered to Lila, who was still hiding her face in Ben’s neck. You shared a look with him, and he gave you a short nod. His hand moved to the small of your back, both protective and possessive as the three of you moved towards the garage exit.

There Frank waited with the car that would take your family home.

You watched Ben with the beginning of tears brimming in your eyes. You managed to hold them at bay while he set Lila down in her bed. You’d just finished giving her a bath and helping her get into her pajamas after a quiet, somewhat tense dinner.

Lila still seemed upset in her unusually quiet mood, which you knew was understandable. Ben sat at her bedside and soothed a hand over her head, brushing her cheek with his thumb.

“You’ve had a crazy friggin’ day, huh?” he asked. Lila didn’t want to look at him, but he encouraged it with gentle fingers brushing her chin, teasing the tip of her nose. She hinted at a smile and finally met his eyes. He smiled back at her, if more reserved. But his expression turned serious again.

“What’s wrong?” he asked. He could see it. She had been more or less fine throughout dinner, but now she’d turned quiet and withdrawn again. She only got like that when she was upset about something.

Lila toyed with the ear of her stuffed animal, Charlie. Frank had retrieved it for her from the daycare.

“Sorry I talked to strangers,” Lila mumbled.

You had to bite the inside of your lip so you wouldn’t cry. You came over to sit on the other side of her bed. You sniffed and shook your head, but Ben beat you to what you wanted to say.

“You’re not in trouble, all right? We’re not mad,” he said.

Lila’s lower lip wobbled. Ben sighed and picked her up, plopping her down in his lap. She hugged him as tight as she could and he held her back, warm and secure.

“You know I’m always gonna be there to keep you safe. You never have to worry or be afraid,” he said.

You carded your fingers through Lila’s hair so she knew you were there too. Usually, the roles were reversed, where you were doing the comforting and Ben was the solid support. Right now though, you just didn’t have the words. Not when guilt was eating you from the inside out.

Fortunately, your husband did have the words, after he heaved a sigh.

“I might raise my voice, sometimes, but uh…you never have to be afraid of me either. Okay?” he said.

"Mhmm," Lila agreed.

You laid hand on Ben's arm, gently squeezing. He met your gaze, and knew what you were prodding with just that look in your eyes.

Briefly, he hesitated before he looked back down at his daughter.

"I'm sorry I scared you," he said.

Lila nodded against his chest. “It's okay.”

“Good,” he said, laying a kiss on her forehead. “All right, you ready to go to bed?”

She clung to him and made a sound of refusal.

You were finally able to crack a smile. You leaned down by her ear.

“You want Daddy to read you a story first?” you asked.

Ben shot you a look at the way you volunteered him for that. He was tired and drained.

But one hopeful, shiny look from his daughter, and he folded like a deck of cards.

Later, when Lila was asleep, you tucked her in one last time and Ben turned out the light. He kept the door cracked open, just in case she called for either one of you tonight.

Then, somehow, you and Ben ended up in the kitchen instead of the bedroom. As exhausted as both of you were, you needed this moment to decompress, with one of your old favorite pastimes…

He broke out the whiskey while you found an appropriate midnight snack, and then a seat with him at the breakfast bar. The two of you shared a companionable silence, as well as a large bag of sea salt and vinegar chips.

That was sort of how you felt inside.

“Today can’t happen again,” Ben said, breaking the silence.

You looked over at him, but he was looking beyond you. Maybe so he didn’t have to show you how deeply he’d been rattled. You knew him far too well for that.

“Of course not,” you replied. And you released a sigh. “So here’s what I’m thinking. From now on I’ll work from home, so I can watch Lila until she goes to preschool.”

Ben got ready to argue, but you held up a hand. The other went to rest over your belly. You had scheduled an ultrasound with Dr. Tonya Baker tomorrow, just to make sure all was well after this ordeal.

“I already plan to take my maternity leave when this guy rolls into town,” you said with a smile. “Then, when I’m ready, and if it’s feasible, I can continue to work from home until all the kids are in school.”

Ben’s lips twitched humorlessly. He should’ve known you’d continue making this a negotiation. He set down his glass, and he reached out to slide a hand over yours, across your belly. He took in a deep breath. But when he let it go, you sensed you still hadn’t convinced him.

“Listen, I know you don’t want me to work—” you began.

“It’s not that,” he said. He made sure you looked him in the eyes when he said it. “It’s not.”

Despite yourself, you read the sincerity in his words. It had you pausing, waiting for him to continue.

“You know damn well…that just being around me is dangerous,” he said. “To you, and to Lila. But you being connected with Supe Affairs, working these missions, even from behind a desk, it’s a fucking risk. It’ll always be a risk.”

You considered that with new understanding. You took his hand with both of yours.

“Ben, this life, this work…it’s the same for me as it is for you. It’s all I know how to do. It’s what I’m wired for. So that’s why it’s hard for me to turn down that dial,” you explained. “But look, I understand what you’re saying. Believe me, I do. And today…today was…”

Your breath hitched as tears stung in your eyes. Ben shook his head and tugged you closer.

“Come ‘ere,” he said.

You left your chair to go to him. You stood between his long legs while he pulled you into a warm embrace. Logically, you knew that what happened today wasn’t your fault. However, part of you still felt like a failure of a mother for underestimating the risks of having your daughter at the S.A.

You should’ve known better, you berated yourself. And yet, it was Ben’s words that stopped your train of thought.

“Today wasn't on you,” he said. "Get that thought outta your head."

He knew you well too, and this was one of those times. You wept harder against him, pressing your face into the crook of his neck. He held you, comforted you until you began to calm down.

“Take your maternity leave early,” he said. His deep voice was a rumble. “You’re going to have your hands full with Lila when I’m not here. Unless we hire someone to help you.”

It was an idea you could consider, but who could you trust? That was the question.

Maybe your mother? you thought. You knew she was thinking of retiring from her job in a couple of years anyway.

You sighed and slipped your fingers through Ben’s hair. Your hand came to rest on the back of his neck as you leaned against him.

When Lila came into your lives, you had been so excited to start a family that you hadn’t considered the non-physical side effects. Namely, the sacrifices you would have to make in order to keep your family safe.

Before you met Ben, your job was your life. But today reminded you that your daughter…and your unborn son, were more important to you than your job. No matter how important that job might be for the rest of the world.

“Let’s talk about this more tomorrow,” you said, shaking your head. “I can’t think anymore.”

After a beat of hesitation, he agreed with a nod. Like so many battles before, whatever compromise you and Ben finally reached would be hard won. His hand found your cheek and caressed your skin.

“You still try my fucking patience, you know that?” he muttered.

You smiled tiredly. “Did you really expect that to change?”

He scoffed. Even so, he guided you off his shoulder so that he could claim your lips. His kiss tasted like the burn of whiskey. You met his demanding lips in kind, though you were the first one to part from him slowly.

“I love you,” you whispered a reminder.

Ben nodded and pressed a kiss to your forehead. He lingered there for a moment, as if he could pause the world for a while.

He eventually let out a breath through his nose and allowed himself to be honest.

“I love you too,” he said.

With that shared understanding, he stood from his seat. He drained the last of his glass before he bent to gather you up into his arms. You yelped in surprise, clinging to his shoulders.

“Time for some rest,” Ben said. There was a certain smile on his face, gentler than usual.

He forged a path towards the bedroom. You sighed and laid your head against his chest.

For once, you didn’t argue with him.

AN: I've been wanting to put this one out for a while now. 💚💚 I so hope you enjoyed this chapter of the BMD verse! Do you like how their little family is evolving? 😘

Ko-Fi Me ☕

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citrustan · 5 months

Text

slipping through my fingers [3] (myg)

title: the calm before the storm

pairing: min yoongi x reader genre: dilf!yoongi, exes and co-parents au, angst!, fluff, smut summary: you're hit with some harsh facts that you aren't ready to entertain. warnings: [hi find the story masterlist here] insecurity, stubborn oc, ft. public enemy no. 2 (for now)

The restaurant took twice the amount of time they usually do to deliver your orders. On top of that, they ended up charging you a convenience fee for taking too long.

Taehyung was now on the phone, negotiating a refund or a discount from the place.

Meanwhile, you had tucked yourself in bed. You still had a lot to ask him. Now that you saw Yoongi’s girlfriend on his phone, you’re wondering if Taehyung’s close to her. It’d be awkward if they were.

On the contrary, you do feel a tad better at the idea that your friend was no stranger to the woman. For Nao.

Even though Yoongi would never bring anyone he didn’t trust wholly around your daughter, it’s an extra layer of security for Taehyung to know or know of her.

Taehyung walks into your room with freshly picked peonies in his hand.

“I still can’t believe you’re letting Nao meet her before you do.” He voices.

Still, you skip over the statement, “What is that in your hand?” Taehyung didn’t have those with him when he came.

“They’re flowers.”

“Yeah, they’re peonies. Like the ones Katarina grows. In her garden.” You observed, realisation hitting you slowly.

“Ok, what’s your point?” He pauses and sniffs the petals, “WOW, these are fragrant.”

A little agitated, you prop yourself up on your elbows, “My point is that you stole my neighbour’s flowers?”

It’s hard enough maintaining a flower garden in an apartment complex. You did not want to participate in ruining it for her.

Taehyung took offence to your accusation, “I didn’t steal! I bought them.”

Confused, you ask, “Why?”

“They’re for you. For your room. I thought you liked flowers.” He looks around your room.

Oh.

“Where’s the crystal vase I gave you?” Taehyung walks into your closet in search of it.

“Next to the shoes,” you trail off, “I think…”

You were used to Yoongi bringing your flowers every other week. But because he stopped recently, you put all your flower vases away in storage not wanting to be reminded of Yoongi’s flowers, or rather, the absence thereof.

Reemerging from your closet, he sets up the flowers on your bedside table. And you fall back in bed with a ‘thud.’

“Tae…” You trail off, lazily patting the spot next to you.

He joins you in bed, “Yeah?”

“Are you close with her? Like, are you friends?”

He carefully watches you.

Your eyes were trained to your ceiling but you could tell that his were on you.

“I met her at the gallery a few times. We went clubbing together. That… Do you remember when I invited you that one time?”

With your brows scrunched, you rapidly turn your head to face him, startling him.

“YOU INTRODUCED THEM?” You couldn’t control the way that came out.

“I didn’t intend to! I- I wanted you to meet her, but when you said no…” His voice faded off.

He looked like a kicked puppy. However, you were too riled up to stop.

Suddenly, you jump off the bed, feeling a rush of emotions. This was one of those moments when you could feel the blood pumping through your veins and hear your own heartbeat in your ears, and you couldn’t just lie still.

You run your hands through your hair, “I can’t believe you introduced my ex to his WIFE.”

By enunciating every word, you tried to process this new piece of information in your own way.

You couldn’t help but wonder; Had you not refused to go out with Taehyung because of Yoongi being there too, is it possible that you and Yoongi would’ve ended up together instead?

It wasn’t Taehyung you were angry with. It was yourself. But you were in too deep and couldn’t help the words coming out of your mouth.

Still, you continue, “And you didn’t even TELL me about them.”

“And how long have Yoongi’s ‘other girls’ lasted? And what even was this? Love at first sight or some bull?” You’re pacing around your room. “You could’ve warned me, Taehyung.”

“What? What just happened?” He asks, mostly to himself.

Sitting up, he explains, “_____, I didn’t know. I didn’t know they kept in touch! He didn’t seem that into her!” Taehyung was visibly forcing himself to keep his voice down. His tone of speech still leaned towards comforting.

Holding Taehyung’s full focus now, you almost whine, “I don’t deserve this.” You point a finger at him, “Just answer me.”

After a long pause, he sighs, “What do you want to know?”

“Why did nobody warn me?”

“_____, you’re putting me in a difficult position here.”

“No, I’m not.” You dismiss immediately, “Why did none of you lot tell me about this new girl? Why was I so out of the loop? It’s like you were trying to exclude me because you like Yoongi more or something-”

“_____, YOU told us not to. That’s why nobody ‘warned’ you. You can’t get mad at US for respecting YOUR wishes.”

Flabbergasted, you gasp, “WHAT are you talking about?”

“You don’t remember? YOU told us to never update you about Yoongi.”

You shook your head.

You don’t believe him. “That’s stupid.”

“I agree.” He nods.

“No. I mean, you saying that. That’s not right.” – “_____. You might not remember it, but you weren’t the easiest person to be around after you broke up with Yoongi.”

“I know. I was there,” you spat, spitefully.

Taehyung frowned, “This is why I didn’t want to do this.”

That pauses your train of thought. You don’t understand why he’d bring this up now. You knew you were a mess.

After Yoongi moved out of the home you shared, your break up was actually finalized.

After that, all your time went to your daughter. You were hyper-fixated on her and might’ve neglected other aspects of your life, but you’ve come so far that you don’t understand why he’d remind you of that again.

Mayhaps you should take it down a few notches. But your head was too full of anger to acknowledge his stance.

“Forget about it. Let’s not do this now,” Taehyung kindly suggests. “Why don’t we go down to the bakery?”

Anxiously scratching your neck, you declined, “Taehyung, no. Just… I really don’t remember saying that,” you spoke somewhat apologetically.

You returned to bed, plopping yourself next to him.

Gracefully accepting, Taehyung coos, “I know, angel. But that really is all I can say.”

Yet another moment of silence takes over your space.

You cleared your throat, “Is she a good person?”

Taehyung looked at you awkwardly.

Before he could respond, you add, “She seems to know about me, I want to know her too.”

“She’s okay.” He shrugged, making your smile a little. “Don’t try to flatter me…”

That smile doesn’t last very long though. Taehyung caresses your back as you navigate your emotions. “I want to cry but I can’t and I don’t know why.”

Taehyung opens and shuts his mouth a few times, debating whether or not he should say anything.

You change the topic before he could, “Where’s the food?”

“I traded it for the flowers.” – “That’s nice.”

Taehyung remained by your side, his presence a source of comfort amidst the chaos in your mind.

Wordlessly, he offered a supportive embrace that you eagerly accepted.

As you sat there, grappling with your emotions, your phone abruptly rang, startling both you and Taehyung.

The caller ID displayed Yoongi’s name, and for a moment, your heart stopped.

₊˚.🎧 ✩｡ die 4 you by dean ₊˚.🎧 ✩｡

note: ok this was probably a little boring but its imp background

this was supposed to be a part of the previous chapter but it got too lengthy so i thought i'd cut it out for a flashback later. but i think it makes more sense now.

! and i hope it answered some of your questions kinda

#yoongi fluff #yoongi x reader #fic: slipping through my fingers #yoongi fanfic #yoongi scenarios #yoongi smut #yoongi fic #suga x reader #suga angst #min yoongi x oc #yoongi x oc #min yoongi x you #yoongi x you #dilf yoongi #yoongi dilf au #dilf bts #min yoongi x reader #min yoongi smut #suga smut

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beardedjoel · 4 months

Text

pretty little wife | sorry, baby

joel miller x f!reader one shot collection

series masterlist | main masterlist | ao3 | ✨kofi ✨ summary: 4k words. Joel is stressed and busy with a big project at work lately. His pretty little wife makes it all better. warnings: 18+ MDNI! no apocalypse au, pre-established relationship/dynamic, sub/dom relationship, free use kink, oral sex (m receiving), cock worship (!! yes), unprotected piv, rough sex, dirty talk, pet names for reader, sir kink making a reappearance, bit of fluff mixed in, mention of food/eating, @ GOD WHY ISNT THIS ME a/n: I'M BACK. these two sick lovebirds are back 😭 i needed something sweet to write while working on smother so here's some cute domestic sucking and fucking from my favorite couple MWAH reminder i have no taglist anymore, follow @beardedjoel-updates to hear about my new fics!

Gonna be late again. Sorry baby.

Joel’s hurried text had pinged your phone a few hours ago, and you reassured him it was no problem, of course. You know that his company is contracting on a huge project in downtown Austin right now, and it required a lot of Joel’s attention. He’d been giving so much you were surprised that he had anything left in the tank when he came home to you. But by god, so many nights he sure did, coming home in a frenzy to fuck you, taste you, finding you where you were when he arrived home - cleaning up dishes from dinner, the shower, already curled up in bed with a book on one particularly late night.

You relished in him releasing everything into you - the stress of his day instantly melting with a simple touch of his lips to yours, drinking in your curves and soft skin with rough hands and frenzied yet controlled movements. It always seemed like the more stressed he was, the more he couldn’t get his cock in you fast enough, the more relentless he was in the ways he took care of you. He’d leave you spent, dripping, and aching, letting you talk softly about your day as he stroked your hair afterwards, all sweetness and hushed tones until you two fell asleep.

You peer into the living room from the kitchen to see Joel walking in, looking generally askew and you frown. When his shoes are yanked off and placed in the closet he looks up to see you leaning on the doorframe, lips full and pouting, finger sticking up with a patch of cookie dough stuck to it to taste test. You stand in a long, threadbare t-shirt of his and pink cotton panties, just what Joel had set out for you this morning, and he makes sure to thank his past self for such a wise choice this morning. You’d laughed at the lack of bra or any kind of pants, knowing it was no accident you’d ended up dressed without any bottoms on today. You aim to please, and the look Joel gives you whenever he sees you exactly how he envisioned you for the day always makes your heart soar a little higher.

He finds his way to the couch, sprawling out and giving you an exhausted look. You stick the errant finger into your mouth, sucking the sweet, sugary cookie dough off and licking your lips. Joel’s expression changes quickly, his interest clearly sparked, but the wearisome look doesn’t leave his eyes.

“Baby?” you ask, your brows furrowing further with worry. This wasn’t your husband, this wasn’t Joel, and you always hate to see him have a tough day. It makes your heart ache when he works too hard, gives too much of himself and winds up burnt out. You certainly don’t mind making it all better for him, that’s what you’re here for, after all, but it pains you nonetheless.

“C’mon over here, little wife,” Joel murmurs, running a hand down his weary face. When he pulls it away, he gazes at you with heavy lids before propping his hands behind his head.

You saunter over to him, standing next to where he lays and reaching down to graze your fingers over his stretched bicep, trailing it inwards towards his face. He hums, fluttering his eyes closed for a brief moment and enjoying the way your gentle fingers work across his cheekbones and through his beard.

His hand slowly moves from behind his head to curve around your waist, drawing you nearer, the front of your knees hitting the side of the couch cushions now. His silent signals are obvious to you at this point, so you don’t waste a moment swinging your leg around his body, tucking it in between his thigh and the back of the couch, settling in to straddle him. A hand runs gently down his chest as you tilt your head, studying his face in concern.

“What’s my husband need from me?” you ask quietly, letting your other hand bury itself in his curls, scratching at his scalp.

Joel lets out a pleasured groan, nearly shuddering at the feeling. “Fuck, baby.” You feel his body shift underneath you, already squirming with the sensation of your fingers doing their work on him. “Make me feel good.”

“Let’s get you more comfortable, then,” you coo, fingers already moving on the buttons of his shirt, making quick work of the top few to let his chest breathe a little bit. You take only a beat to admire the top of his chest poking out, curls of hair sticking out wild and messy before getting to work. You slither down his body, giving yourself enough room to undo his belt before pulling it out of its loops and tossing it aside.

“Lift, please,” you say, keeping up your gentle, soothing tone as Joel’s hips lift off the couch and allow you the space to pull down his dress pants, wriggling them down to his ankles and then over his feet. “Now that’s better, isn’t it?”

“Mmm,” Joel answers, a pleasant little hum from the back of his throat. You can feel how your ministrations have already gotten him hard as it brushes against your center when you settle back on top of his hips. A brief tease of your hips swirling on his sends Joel’s twitching, a sly little smile flashing on his lips. But you’re gone an instant later, moving down the couch and settling next to his feet, sitting crossed legged to face them before taking one into your lap.

“What’s this, now?” Joel asks, a slight tiredness to his voice now.

“Ever heard of a foot rub?” you reply with a lifted brow. He chuckles and you watch his body rumble with the sound.

“Givin’ me mouth today, are we?” he asks playfully, the tired laughter still fading off as he speaks.

“I could,” you retort, pursing your lips and looking up from his feet to find his eyes peeking open, looking down at your delicate, innocuous smile with a plethora of hidden meaning behind it.

“Such a dirty girl…” he murmurs, neatly cut off by the groan he lets out when you press in on one of his arches with your thumb.

“See? I know what you need, baby,” you coo, working your fingers into the tender spots on his foot, being sure to use just the right amount of pressure. You prop his foot in your lap, letting it hang there as you gently rotate his ankle, loosening everything up.

“Christ,” he breathes out as you start on the other foot. His breathing is a little labored, pain and pleasure mixing together as you continue to help his weary soles. You work each foot until he sighs contentedly, a good sign that your work is finished.

At least on his feet, that is. You run your hands teasingly up his thighs, settling them on his hips as you work your way back up his body, hips straddling his again. You lean down and brush your lips against his neck, peering up to watch Joel’s eyes flutter shut as he sighs again. The sound is music to your ears, anytime your husband makes that content, soft little sound you think you’ve reached heaven. You suck and flick little patches all over his neck, starting a slow, steady grind of your hips.

“Oh, pretty girl,” Joel starts, landing a firm hand along your hip. “I can’t today… I’m so fuckin’ beat. You know I’d give anything to fuck my cock into you…” He murmurs the words with a hint of frustration. You know this is hitting Joel harder than he’s letting on, seeing as his singularly focused task most days is to find a way to get himself inside of you.

“Who said anything about you fucking me?” you ask slyly, hands hooking into the sides of his briefs. You watch as Joel’s eyes pop open and look at you mischievously. “You said to make you feel good, so that’s what I’m doing, my darling.” You keep your tone even and calming as you continue with your teasing, deft fingers playing under his waistband.

Joel’s smirk grows and he reaches a hand up to gently pet the back of your head before pulling you to his face, kissing you deeply. “Good girl,” he says as he pulls away, the words falling right onto your own lips. “Doin’ as you’re told.”

You slink lower, getting to the spot you know excites him the most, straddling lower on his legs to bring your mouth down to his clothed cock. You plant small kisses along the obvious bulge and Joel reacts immediately with a small hiss through his teeth. You kiss and lick and suck, letting the fabric tamp enough of the pleasure to drive him crazy.

“God damn it…” he grunts quietly, hips shifting as they spasm up towards your mouth when you suck another spot on the fabric, taking your sweet time, only a small form of torture for Joel. “You tryna make me ask you to pull my cock out and get your pretty mouth on it? Cause you know, once I’m not dead on m’feet I might have to punish you ‘f that’s the case.” His words tumble out slow and thick with his accent - that Southern drawl always comes out more when he’s tired and mumbling.

Your mouth curls deviously and you lick your lips. “Wouldn’t dream of it,” you reply in a low lilt.

“Mhm…” Joel teases, but you heed his warning anyhow, tugging his briefs down to free his cock, nearly enraged as it throbs and drips precum from the way you’d already been working on it. Your tongue finds the salty fluid at his head, lapping it with just the tip of your tongue and swirling it around. You start to practically nuzzle it, catching his cock in the corners of your lips, letting your tongue get a few tiny kitten licks on his shaft as you rub it along your cheeks. The smooth skin glides along your face and you start to get messier with it, letting his cock start to spread his precum and your saliva along your cheeks as you let the flat of your tongue run along it.

Joel lets out a loud, long groan, fingers gripping deep into the couch cushion. He can barely contain himself as your tongue licks a thick stripe up underneath his length, tracing the most prominent vein. His hips stutter forward as he gives himself to the moment.

“God damn, honey…” he whimpers quietly, eyes shutting in the bliss of the moment.

Your hands rub his thighs gently, kneading into them as you start to bob your head on his cock, taking a little more each time until he’s at the back of your throat. You fight the urge to gag, a little noise coming out of you, sending Joel’s hand flying to the back of your head, his gaze watching the way his cock disappears inside of your warm mouth.

“That’s it, choke on it like I like, pretty girl…” Joel mumbles, eyes rolling back a little as his cock fills your mouth. “My pretty wife…” he whispers with a reverence and respect, despite the degrading way he’s about to fuck your mouth.

You move with a little more urgency, your mouth stuffed and aching already, one hand coming up to grip the base of Joel’s cock and stroking there while your mouth works on him. Joel’s hand pushes down on your head, sending you a little further and you sputter, spit flying all around his cock and lap but it doesn’t deter you. His hips start to move of their own accord into you, matching the rhythm of your mouth pumping on him. Your body gets hot and desperate for him, your praise loving nature alight just by seeing how much he loves the way you pleasure him. Your thighs wriggle as your cunt aches and drips now, begging you for relief that you know will have to wait.

“God, fuck,” he cries out, “Needed this…” Joel seems to be practically revived, a new energy filling his weary body as he grunts and pants, his cock sliding in and out of your mouth in faster strokes now. You can sense how close he is, you know your husband’s body like the back of your hand now, his balls tightening and cock getting even harder on your tongue.

He grunts with the effort of sitting forward, yanking your head off of his cock and swiftly sliding his hands to your waist, hauling your entire body upwards so that your hips are above his.

“Need this needy little cunt, look how soaked you are,” Joel coos with a genuine pity for you as he sees the wet stain on your panties.. His fingers tear your underwear to the side, giving enough room for his cock to position itself at your weeping entrance, giving you no time to even process it before he forces your hips to bear down on him.

You cry out in a long, wanting moan as he fills you up, the stretch of him burning in that familiar way that you love and crave so much. Joel is an addiction - your husband the one thing in life you could never get enough of, never filling you enough, never fucking you full and deep enough times that you’re fulfilled. He never fails to leave you satisfied, of course, but you’re always wanting more in the next moment, practically wishing you could live just like this - his cock stuffing you and stretching your pussy to its limits, sending that pain you live for deep inside of you until it turns to the most blinding pleasure. Gratitude overtakes you as you sink down completely, whispering out a fervent thank you as you feel yourself clench around him, eyes shut and head thrown back. Joel reaches to your chin, pulling your head to look down at him.

“What was that?” he asks teasingly, rutting his hips up into your as he speaks. You shudder again, pussy clenching around him as you feel his length pressing against your walls.

“T-thank you,” you breathe out. “Thank you, sir…” You’re unable to say anything else, only look at him with half-lidded eyes and cry out wantonly when he pushes all the way in again, seating himself inside of you only to lift your hips up and do it all over again.

“Yeah… knew bein’ stuffed full of my cock would make you my polite girl again,” Joel says arrogantly, sending a fresh wave of arousal right between your legs, gushing around his girth. You nod, blinking down at him, rolling your hips and chasing your pleasure. You lean down a little closer to Joel, bringing your chest more flush with his, the change in angle devastating the both of you.

“So fuckin’ full of me,” Joel whispers in your ear, taking it upon himself to bend his legs and start fucking up into you. You moan in his ear, tears springing to your eyes as you feel him close to your cervix, each deep thrust sinfully delicious and bordering on painful in the way that makes your skin tingle in the best way. You want to be used, you want him as deep as he can possibly go, to feel you entirely wrapped around him.

Joel grunts, hot breath fanning next to your ear as he holds you close. Your bodies are intermingling with sweat now, your ass slapping down onto his thighs reverberating through the quiet living room. It’s just this - the two of you, your shared breath, your intertwined bodies, nothing else matters or even registers to you now. Joel’s hips shift the slightest bit in angle and you cry out, your g-spot now overstimulated with attention as Joel’s cock pounds into you harder, brushing the spongy spot with each new movement into you.

You pant, clutching onto him and digging your manicured nails into his shoulder, scratching them along to his neck where you hang on for dear life.

“Fuck…” you murmur, feeling your body tensing, legs like jello as they shake on either side of Joel’s thighs. “Let me come, p-please, sir,” you whimper, holding back with every ounce of strength you have as the tingling warmth spreads, heat in your belly threatening to burst at any second.

“Hang on f’me, baby, fuck, n-not yet,” Joel replies in a huff, clearly close to that high himself. “Wanna fill you up right when you’re comin’ so pretty f’me.”

You bite your lip hard enough to draw blood, holding back as your body screams at you with need. This wasn’t the first time Joel had you hold back your climax, and it certainly wouldn’t be the last, but it never got any easier. You whimper, nearing a sob as Joel thrusts into you, your hips rolling and stuttering into his movements. “Please… sir…” you cry.

Joel grunts out a stern no and continues to slam his hips into yours, growing harsher by the second. You’re a whimpering wreck, your body nearly about to betray you as Joel hits your g-spot again. Tears leak from your eyes with the psychological effort of holding back, but you know it’ll be worth it. It always is.

“Now,” Joel says simply, “Come for me, little doll,” he adds, finishing the sentence with a grunt as you start to lose control, feeling like a dam inside of you is bursting, all the pleasure rolling over you in dazzling waves. You flutter around Joel’s cock almost as hard as you ever have, squeezing his length as he lets out a small whimper himself. Your breathy moans right in his ear send goosebumps along his whole body despite how stifling the air is surrounding you two.

“Fuck…” he moans, his hips jerking a few times before he starts to spill himself into you. You continue to shake, pulling every last drop from him as you ride out your own high, Joel’s name rolling off your tongue as you moan.

“God, yeah…” you whimper out, finally collapsing onto Joel’s chest as his legs go limp underneath you. You both lay in silence, chests heaving and small smiles on your faces. Joel strokes the back of your head and your smile grows. Neither of you seem set on moving, the combination of both of your climaxes a slick mess between the two of you as you settle into a more steady rhythm of breathing.

“Mmm…” Joel mumbles out the noise. “How’s my pretty little wife today, hm?” he asks quietly, fingers tracing down your cheeks to your lips.

“You’re late to ask,” you tease him with a laugh, typically hearing that question before anything else when he gets home. He uses his free hand to squeeze your ass cheek in warning at your bratiness and you grin. “But better now,” you answer in the familiar response to your favorite question from him.

“Thought so,” Joel says wryly, giving you ass a lazy pat before kissing the side of your head. He’s quiet for a few moments before lifting your hips off of his, your body immediately missing the sweet fullness of him as you both sit up. Joel brings your legs over his and you rest your head on his shoulder, feeling like the most natural fit in the world.

“‘M sorry about all this, baby - all the late nights and bein’ stressed and probably bein’ a grouch,” Joel says, his voice laden with guilt. He circles on your bare thigh with his fingers and you shudder a little, snuggling further into him. One of your hands wraps around his cheek, turning his head to meet your eye line and you give him a soft smile.

“You think you just now started being a grouch?” you joke, knowing you’re pushing your limits on how much bratiness Joel will tolerate in one day before things escalate.

He growls deep in his throat and you giggle softly, scratching your fingers through his hair. “Thin ice, baby…” he murmurs.

“I love my grumpy husband,” you say sweetly, fingers moving down to run through his rough beard. “It’s okay though, Joel. Promise. I just miss you, but this busy and crazy time will pass like it always does, right? In the mean time...” you lower your voice, a finger trailing from his cheek to his neck and down his chest. “We can just do that anytime you need it.”

Joel chuckles, giving your entire body a squeeze against him. “That’s my good girl. Always ready f’me.” You smile into his chest at his praise before he continues. “We’ll do somethin’ this weekend, the two of us an’ spend some time together, mkay? Make up for all this bullshit.”

You feel your heart squeeze inside your chest and your stomach flutter a little at the idea. Joel has typically been pretty good about planning dates over the years, but you know that it’s been hard with his extra workload lately, so you’ve been missing the romantic evenings he’d plan for you two. You’d tried to ask about planning one yourself, and Joel shut you down immediately in the sweetest way possible, claiming the responsibility fully for himself to do that for you.

“Ooh, yes please,” you reply excitedly, hugging him close.

“‘S a date then,” Joel confirms, leaning his head back onto the couch while you stay resting on his shoulder. You both fall into a comfortable quiet again, Joel’s breathing steadying as he dozes off.

“Do you want a cookie?” you ask into the silence, sitting up. Joel’s eyes creak open from where he’d been resting them and he glances down at you with furrowed brows.

“That s’posed to be some kind of euphemism, darlin’?” he asks groggily. You laugh, throwing your head back a little and shuffling yourself to sit up on the edge of the couch.

“Could be,” you giggle, “Real cookies this time, though. You can even sneak one before dinner.”

Joel perks up a little, eyes opening a bit more. “Chocolate chip?” he asks, a boyish glint in his gaze.

“Of course,” you nod, and Joel smiles tiredly, sitting up to join you on the edge of the couch.

“You know you’re the best wife?” Joel says, nudging you with his shoulder and leaning over for a quick peck on your cheek before standing up and pulling his pants back on. He moans and groans while he twists his back and stretches his arms over his head for a few moments, and you know his knees must be flaring up as they do when he’s more stressed.

“Just one,” you warn Joel as you see him making his way to the kitchen trying to look like some kind of master sleuther on the hunt for fresh baked cookies. “I’m making dinner soon.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Joel tosses over his shoulder at you before disappearing around the corner. When you make your way to the kitchen, you watch him take a bite off of a cookie from the cooling rack and you stand with crossed arms, admiring him. His eyes look you up and down with a similar appreciation, landing between your legs where he sees your underwear completely soaked and stained from your recent rendezvous. He smirks as he chews, stepping towards you.

“An’ don’t you dare think about changing your underwear,” he says in a low rumble, eyes flicking all over your face as he gets close to read if you’re going to keep up your bratty streak today. Instead, you give him a docile little upturn of your lips - he’s been through enough today - and brush past him to start working on dinner.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

#sorry for the wait i know its been ages #fic: pretty little wife #joel miller #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #x reader #the last of us fanfiction

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luminoustarlight · 5 months

Text

As Fate Would Have It | Chapter Three

Lines are beginning to blur between you and Anakin.

◂ chapter two ▸ chapter four

rating: mature | pairing: dilf!anakin skywalker x afab!reader | wc: 5.2k | read on ao3

warnings: alcohol, age-gaps, body image insecurities (anakin), sexual fantasies/content, swearing, a little bit of mean anakin

“Tell me everything! Is he everything you thought he’d be? Totally dreamy? All stoic and boss-like? Oh, what does he smell like? Expensive?”

Your best friend has barely taken off her shoes before bombarding you with questions about your first day working for Anakin Skywalker. You give her a welcoming hug before taking her hand and leading her into the living room. “Come on, I’ve already opened a bottle of wine.”

Two empty glasses stand next to a middle-shelf Pinot Gris on your coffee table. Sabine takes it upon herself to pour the wine and pulls the granny square blanket from the back of your couch over her lap. She looks like she’s settling in for a bedtime story.

“Okay, I’m ready. Lay it on me.”

You situate yourself on the opposite end of the couch and slip your legs under the blanket. You take a small sip of wine before attempting to answer any of Sabine’s questions. Your first day at Skywalker Enterprises went by in a blur. Meeting your boss was not at all how you imagined it would go. It was all so clumsy. Anakin seemed more like an embarrassed school boy than the confident CEO you were expecting. He looked like he saw a ghost when he saw you sitting behind your desk. And then, in the car on the way to his house, he addressed your butt.

“Let me know if your butt gets too toasty,” he said. It was so incredibly adorable because you could tell he let a little bit of his guard down when he said it. Obviously, he didn’t mean to. Because no sensible boss should talk about his assistant’s butt. Especially not when you’ve only just met each other. You found it endearing.

But then, after the initial awkwardness faded and you continued talking to each other throughout the day, there was a sense of familiarity about him. The structure of his sentences when he spoke reminded you of someone. You’re just not sure who.

“He’s not really what I thought he’d be like.”

“How so?” Sabine asks.

“I don’t know,” you shrug, unable to explain the stirring of feelings and emotions in your chest. “He’s… he was sort of awkward when we first met. Like, stuttering and fumbling over his words. Almost as if I made him nervous.”

Sabine nods slowly with her eyes narrowed. “Go on…”

“Well, that’s crazy, right? The fact that I could’ve made him nervous?”

“Not necessarily. Look at you. You didn’t have a successful OnlyFans page for nothing.”

“Yeah, but he’s in his forties,” you emphasize. You remind yourself of his age nearly every minute to remember how inappropriate it is to be attracted to your boss. Applying for the job was such a bad idea. What made you think you wouldn’t be attracted to him when you saw him in person? Your cheeks get hot as you think about him rounding the car to open your door once you got back to the office after dropping off his son’s pants at school. It was just a common courtesy, not a sign of interest. But damn, was it nice to be on the reciprocating end of something gentlemanly.

“And he’s a dad! I shouldn’t be making dads nervous,” you add. “I mean, I saw a picture of his wife at his house. She was stunning. Stunning, Sabine. High cheekbones, a nice straight nose, a gorgeous smile…”

“Wait, he’s married?!” Sabine sets down her glass.

“Widowed.”

“Oh,” Sabine says sadly. Then her eyebrows perk up. “Oh.”

“Don’t,” you hold up your finger. “Don’t give me that look. He’s my boss.”

“But you like him,” Sabine sings. “And from what it sounds like, he likes you too.”

You cannot let Sabine put the idea of Anakin Skywalker, engineering millionaire, having a measly little crush on you. Because it’s absolutely absurd. He’s him and you’re… you’re just a girl who was uploading videos of herself masturbating for money just last week. Not that there is anything wrong with sex work. It’s empowered you in so many ways, but it was time to find something a bit more steady and reliable. And less physically taxing, to be perfectly honest.

“Sabine, be serious. I-” your phone pings with a distinct tone that makes you pause.

New Message from Skyguy81

“Oh, my God,” you say.

“What?” Sabine asks.

“It’s Sky,” you answer her while opening the message.

Sabine eagerly crawls on top of you to peer at your screen. “Sky as in Rich Guy Sky? Did you upload a new video or something? What did he say?”

“No,” you shake your head. “I haven’t uploaded anything since last Thursday. Get off of me so I can read his message.”

Sabine retreats to her side of the couch as you begin reading to her.

“I thought about you at work today. I thought about you more than I would like to admit. You have no idea what you do to me, Honey. No idea what I would do to you.” Your tongue feels like sandpaper and your heart is in the bottom of your throat.

“Oh, shit!” Sabine exclaims. “You’ve got this boy whipped! Honestly, you should just keep making videos for him. He was your best tipper, anyway.”

“He’s never… he’s never messaged me out of the blue before.” You chug down the last of your wine, thinking you may need some liquid courage for whatever conversation is about to unfold between you and Sky.

“He wants you,” Sabine says simply. “Make it happen.”

“I can’t just meet up with someone from OnlyFans. It’s an episode of Dateline waiting to happen.”

Sabine rolls her eyes. “Don’t be so cynical.”

“I’m not being cynical, I’m being logical,” you counter. You’d be foolish to risk your life by meeting up with Skyguy81. No matter how nice and genuine he seems over private messages. No matter how much money he has tipped you. There is no guarantee he’s not absolutely creepy and going to kidnap you.

Okay, so maybe you watch too much true crime. That’s why you have to balance it out with The Great British Bake Off.

“I don’t know. I’m just saying,” Sabine finishes her wine, “you never know. He could be the love of your life.”

You’re quiet as you contemplate the love of your life. Sabine is the romantic. You’re the realist. You have a hard time believing there’s one person in the world who you’re destined to be with. How do you explain Anakin losing his wife? Was she the love of his life? Is he not supposed to move on and potentially find happiness with someone else? None of it makes sense to you and it’s quite possibly because you’ve never been in love.

And the image of the person who you might like the opportunity to love is entirely unavailable.

It’s times like tonight when Anakin wishes he didn’t raise such inquisitive, curious children. Leia is simply chock-full of questions about her dad’s new assistant. When do they get to meet her? Soon. Is she old like Auntie Dorothy? No. Does she like vintage Disney movies? (Anything before 2010 is “vintage” to Leia). I don’t know.

Luke, on the other hand, was very disappointed to learn that you were in the car while his dad dropped off a new pair of pants. “You made her wait in the car like a dog?”

Anakin snorts. “I wouldn’t quite say like a dog, Luke. I was gone for less than five minutes.”

“Did you at least roll down the window? So she could have fresh air?” Leia joins in on the comical idea of their dad leaving his assistant in his car like a pet.

“That’s enough out of you two,” Anakin says through a grin. These 9 year olds, man. What is he going to do with them?

Luke and Leia nod, going back to stabbing their dumplings with their chopsticks.

“I have one last question.” Leia watches her dumpling precariously dangle on the edge of her chopstick.

“What is that, princess?” Anakin asks.

“Is she pretty?”

Anakin’s pulse is going to burst. It’s a simple question- one that always seems to be on the tip of Leia’s tongue. She wants a woman figure in her life. Soon, she’ll be at the age that is easier to navigate with a maternal presence. Anakin is really not equipped to talk her through menstrual cycles.

But it’s the nature of who his new assistant is that makes him feel so exposed. He can’t very well tell his children you’re the most beautiful woman he’s seen since his wife. And he definitely can’t tell them that you’ve been in his life not since this morning, but since three years ago when he downloaded OnlyFans.

Anakin cleans the corners of his mouth with his napkin while he formulates an appropriate response. He’s kept his answers short and simple because if he thinks about you for too long, your figure seeps into his vision, your voice burns in his ears, and he’s unable to focus.

He feels like such a sleaze for getting hard just by thinking about you. You are so much more than a sexual object. And trust him, he can’t wait to learn about all that makes you you. But morals be damned. He wants you desperately.

“Yes, Leia. She’s quite pretty,” Anakin finally answers.

Leia can’t help but dance excitedly in her seat. “I can’t wait to meet her.”

“I could’ve met her today,” Luke mumbles. “If Dad hadn’t locked her up in the car.”

Anakin is laughing now. “I have a feeling you are going to be bringing this up for a while.”

After dinner, the kids clear the dishes and load what they can into the dishwasher. Meanwhile, Anakin does something either incredibly brave or incredibly stupid.

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

I thought about you at work today. I thought about you more than I would like to admit. You have no idea what you do to me, Honey. No idea what I would do to you.

Now being 10 pm, it’s been 3 hours since Anakin— or rather, Skyguy81— sent you that message.

And you still haven’t replied. But you read it.

And the fact that you’ve read the message but decided not to reply makes Anakin feel so incredibly foolish. What was he thinking? What was he expecting from you? More meaningless flirting?

Except now it’s not meaningless for him. He’s not sure if it was ever meaningless. But now that he knows who the woman behind HoneySuckle is, it’s completely different. You have a name— which he had to look up in employment records because he’s convinced he actually blacked out when you introduced yourself. You have passions and interests, favorite snacks, and a go-to karaoke song. He wants to know it all.

And even though he’s going to see you tomorrow, he couldn’t resist the urge to message you on OnlyFans. But since you’ve opted not to reply to him, he’s now wallowing like a teenage boy.

Ridiculous. He’s better than this, goddamnit!

Finally deciding to stop staring at his phone, Anakin strips down to take a shower. It’s hard for him not to feel disappointed when he looks at himself in the mirror. Arguably, he’s still in great shape. He lifts weights at the gym at least twice a week, sometimes three if he has the time. He doesn’t have a beer belly, which he considers an accomplishment at his age. But he does have some extra fat around his love handles. He has sun spots on his shoulders from the countless pool days when the twins were younger. And then there are the undeniable lines around his eyes, which are incredibly prominent when he smiles.

Anakin has never felt particularly insecure about his image before. He’s accepted that his body is not the same 20 year old body it once was. But there’s a new nagging insecurity in the back of his mind.

Is it good enough for you?

Anakin turns on the water in the shower, needing to wash away all delusions of you and him ever getting together. As soon as he steps one foot on the tile, his phone buzzes. He grabs his phone off of the counter and his heart rate immediately ticks up.

Hi Sky, I’m sorry for the delay. I had a friend over. Here’s a special little something for you ;)

Attached is a picture of you on your bed, sitting on your heels with the thin straps of your panties pulled over your hips. You’re lifting an oversized t-shirt above your breasts, which also expertly hides your face. Right. Because you don’t know that he knows who you are.

Still, the picture was worth the wait. It’s almost embarrassing the way his cock is already standing upright, the tip pressing against his lower abdomen. He focuses on your hard nipples, picturing himself enclosing his mouth around one of your mounds. He’s rolling his tongue over your bud while massaging your other breast. Your hands are in his hair and you’re anything but silent. You’re moaning his name, begging for more, whining for him to put his cock inside of you.

Anakin is too preoccupied to even reply to you. He gets himself under the steady stream of hot water and grabs the base of his length. Now he’s picturing you on top of him, tits bouncing in his face while you fuck yourself on his cock.

“Mmm, yes! Anakin, please. Feels so good.”

Your hands are pressed against his strong chest for support. He loves you like this— in control but still pathetically needy for his dick. “How much do you love it?” he asks. “Tell me how much you love this cock inside of you.”

You throw your head back when he slaps both of your ass cheeks. He grabs onto your flesh firmly and your cunt clamps around him while you proclaim it to be the best feeling in the world. “I love it so much, Ani. Nobody's cock feels as good as yours.”

“Damn right,” Anakin grits. He holds your chin with a strong hand, forcing you to look at him. “This pussy is mine. You understand that?”

“Yes, sir,” you moan as Anakin bucks his hips up, hitting deep inside of you. “Only yours.”

“Yes, sir,” huh? That’s a new kink unlocked. Anakin presses a palm on the shower wall to steady himself as he cums. It’s anything from pretty. It happens suddenly and quickly, thanks to the vivid images he was creating in his mind. He bites down on his bottom lip to keep from moaning too loudly. But your name is rolling off of his tongue effortlessly. As if it’s always been in the recesses of his mind, just waiting to be said intimately and passionately.

He tries to list off the hundreds of reasons why he should never utter your name in a less than professional manner while shampooing his hair.

You’re his assistant.

You’re significantly younger than him.

The power imbalance (see 1 and 2).

That’s all he can come up with for now and it’s enough. Nothing good will come out of pining for you and fantasizing about you. It still doesn’t stop him from messaging you back after he gets out of the shower and settles in bed.

Now I feel guilty for not responding sooner. Thank you for the spectacular photo. It is unfortunate that I had to take matters into my own, ahem, hands. I would have much preferred to have your help.

You flatter me, Sky. Do I really get you that worked up?

Impossibly so.

When you said you thought about me at work… What exactly did you mean?

To be perfectly blunt, you were bent over a desk with your skirt pushed over your ass. I was fucking you well and hard, with my name being the only thing falling from your pretty lips.

Anakin lets out a heavy sigh and pinches the bridge of his nose. Why does he keep putting himself in situations that result in an erection? He just needs to have a good fuck. Get it out of his system. Yeah, that’s what he’ll do. But under no circumstances will it be with you.

I think I’d like that very much.

Goddamnit. Anakin needs to stop while he’s ahead. While he’s not succumbing to jerking off for a second time tonight. This was a disastrous idea. Because now when he sees you at work tomorrow, he’s going to think about how you would like for him to fuck you over your desk. Except you don’t actually know that it’s him who wants to fuck you over your desk.

Maybe in another life.

Anakin leaves it at that. He puts his phone on do not disturb and attempts to get some reading in before going to sleep. He also prays for G-rated dreams.

The morning fog of late November in Northern California is still hanging in the air when you get to work at 8 am. Anakin won’t be in until he drops off Luke and Leia which means he should arrive around the same time he did yesterday. It gives you an hour to go through voicemails, reply to emails, and brew a pot of coffee in the breakroom.

Ben Kenobi arrives shortly after you, sharply dressed in dark blue slacks, caramel leather Oxfords, and a white collared shirt with small polka dots that match the color of his pants.

“Good morning, Mr. Kenobi,” you greet.

“Please, call me Ben. No need for formalities around here,” Ben replies. “You’ll soon see we operate very much like a family. There will be shouting and likely some name calling, but it’s all in the name of love for engineering and innovation.”

“Got it,” you nod. “It’s just that Dorothy always called Mr. Skywalker by, well, Mr. Skywalker. And yesterday he didn’t tell me to call him otherwise.”

Ben strokes his nicely groomed beard. “Interesting. Well, I suppose you can continue to address him as such until he tells you to call him Anakin. Which I’m sure he’ll do this morning when he gets in. Have you brewed the coffee yet?”

“Not yet.” you stand. “I wanted to check messages first, but coffee is next on the list.”

“Excellent.” Ben follows you into the breakroom. “How are you enjoying your time here?”

“Well, it’s only been a day,” you remind him with a light lilt to your voice. “But it’s been good! Everyone I’ve met is super friendly.”

Ben leans back against the counter, crossing his ankles and arms over his chest. “And you and Anakin? You two getting along? He’s not giving you too much trouble, is he?”

You nearly spill the coffee grounds as you bring the spoon up from the container to the machine. “No!” you say a little too loudly. “I mean, no. He’s been very nice. Quiet, but nice.”

“Anakin? Quiet?” Ben almost laughs. “I’ve never heard that word used to describe Anakin before.”

“Oh.” you continue scooping grounds into the machine. How many spoonfuls are you supposed to put in? You’ve lost count. Maybe two more for good measure. You’d rather make the coffee too strong than too weak. Nothing is worse than weak coffee. “Maybe I caught him on an off day. He did seem a little weird when he brought me to his house. And then I sort of told him off in the car…”

This gets Ben away from the counter and walking over to you. “You did what?”

“Well, I mean, I didn’t tell him off per se. I just asked him to give me a chance. It seemed like he’d already made a decision about me and we’d only known each other for a couple of hours.”

“Good for you,” Ben replies. “Anakin is headstrong but he can be reasoned with. If the reason is worth being reasoned over.”

“Am I?” you ask. “Worth being reasoned over?”

Ben appears to give you a once over and then nods once. “Yes, I’d say so.”

“Thanks…” you say with uncertainty. Ben takes himself and his briefcase to his office, which is the next door over from Anakin’s. He leaves you alone in the breakroom with a dozen questions. Was Ben assessing your appearance? Surely not for himself. He’s insanely in love with his wife— the mayor. Then who for? Anakin? No. No way.

The coffee has begun to brew— the nutty notes of Philz Philtered Soul bringing you back to your college days. There’s one in walking distance from campus and you and Sabine spent every finals week there chugging back Mint Mojitos and Mocha Tesoras.

Those days were not that long ago for you. For Anakin, on the other hand…

You shake your head, effectively shaking thoughts of Anakin taking any interest in you away. And why would he have an interest in you? He’s bound to have a list of more age-appropriate women he can bring home to his children.

Stop thinking about it.

But it’s so damn hard not to. A forbidden office romance with your boss who’s 20 years your senior? Yeah, it’s cliché and sort of sounds like the plot to a porno but it’s sort of fun, too. As long as you keep yourself in check, what’s the harm in pretending like he’s secretly in love with you and wants to take you home?

When Anakin gets into the office, he doesn’t even greet you before saying, “Call Rose. Tell her to come as soon as possible.”

So much for him being nice yesterday. Now he won’t even look at you. “Who’s Rose? What- what is the appointment for?”

“You don’t need to know what it’s for,” Anakin snaps. “Just find Rose in your little phone book, call her, and tell her I need to see her immediately.”

“Y-yes, sir,” you say while thumbing through the contacts Dorothy left behind for you. Without another word, Anakin goes into his office and slams the door.

What the hell was that about? That was once again another awkward morning of Anakin slamming his office door after talking to you. You thought you left work on good terms yesterday. What changed?

Rose Montgomery arrives 47 minutes after you call her. You hear her Louboutins clicking on the floor before you see her. Your eyes trail up from her long legs to her slim waist and perky boobs until you reach her face. Good Lord. She is strikingly beautiful. Her fiery red hair falls in loose curls over her shoulders. As she walks closer to your desk, you are drawn to her perfectly round green eyes. She’s like the real-deal Jolene from Dolly Parton’s hit song. Seriously, did she grow up being called Jolene solely based on her looks?

“Aw, look at you,” Rose smiles down at you. “You must be the new Dorothy.”

“I suppose I am.”

“Aren’t you just the most adorable thing.”

Uh… What the hell are you supposed to say to that? “I’ll let Mr. Skywalker know you’re here.”

“No need,” Rose informs. “I’ll let myself in.” She begins to walk away with an extra sway to her hips. You want to hate her but she’s got such an air of confidence that you actually want to be a little more like her.

“Oh, um, actually I’m not sure about that,” you come out from behind your desk. “He seems to be in a mood so I don’t want you barging in his office to make it worse.”

Rose turns on her heels and purses her lips. “Actually, sweetheart, I’ve known him longer than you and this isn’t my first ‘appointment’ with him. So if you don’t mind, I’d like to go make his mood a little better.”

Okay. Now you hate her. With that, Rose leaves you standing outside of Anakin’s office with a dumbfounded look on your face. Is that… is she… a booty call?

All of the insinuations are there; from the air quotes around “appointment” to the way she said she’ll make Anakin’s mood better. Coupled with her outstanding looks, you’ve decided that Rose Montgomery is a friend with benefits of Anakin Skywalker. You trudge back to your desk and do your absolute best not to think about what’s happening behind your boss’s door.

At the sound of his door opening, Anakin quickly closes his computer tab and turns off the monitor. He pulls his headphones off of his head and puts them in the drawer.

Rose is none the wiser as she drops her Birkin bag on the table beside the chaise. “Ugh, who is that child you have sitting behind Dorothy’s desk?”

“My new assistant,” Anakin answers through a dry throat. Rose sits herself on his lap and drapes her arms over his shoulders. She begins playing with the ends of his curls, which normally, he would enjoy. But he really just wants to get this over with. He draws down the zipper of her black dress while she kisses along his jaw.

“She seems incompetent,” Rose says between kisses. “What is she? Like, 15?”

Anakin twirls Rose’s hair around his fist and yanks her face away from his. This makes her gasp with pleasure, and despite his annoyance, he loves the reaction he gets from her. “I didn’t fucking ask you here for your opinion on her. Do not talk about her again. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” Rose breathes. “Where do you want me?”

“On your knees.”

When Rose leaves Anakin’s office, you can absolutely tell she and Anakin had sex. Did she even bother looking in the mirror or her phone camera before coming out? She avoids looking in your direction at all costs and knowing how awkward those walks of shame can be after a one night stand, you decide not to watch her walk to the elevator.

You busy yourself in a filing cabinet until you hear Anakin’s door open again. You tell yourself not to look up because if you look up at him you might actually burst into tears. Which makes absolutely no sense to you but you feel that stinging in your nose and you’re trying to think of the time you got Panini because at least those were happy tears.

Anakin says your name.

Damnit. Get it together. You take a deep breath and plaster on a smile. At least he doesn’t look like he just had sex. His hair is combed back the same way it was when he walked in and his clothes are wrinkle free. “Yes, Mr. Skywalker?”

“Would you like to go get lunch?”

It’s only 10:45 but of course, he’d be hungry after having sex. “Oh, sure. What can I get you?”

“I meant me.”

You furrow your brows together. “Sorry?”

“I mean us. You and me, together. Fuck,” Anakin mumbles that last part. It’s like he loses the part of his brain that forms proper sentences when he looks at you. Think back to the car, Anakin. Things weren’t so bad in the car. Wait, yes they were. He told you to tell him if your butt got too toasty.

You can’t help but smile as you start to see the Anakin who let his guard down in the car. He’s nothing like the Anakin who walked into the office this morning. “You want me to get lunch with you?”

“Yes. If you would like.”

You grab your thrifted black leather bag and your coat off of the back of your chair. “I think I’d like that very much.”

I think I’d like that very much.

That is the second time you’ve said that to Anakin.

On the drive to the farm to table restaurant he suggested, he thinks about telling you the truth. That he’s Skyguy81 and you’ve been messaging each other for three years. Oh, and that he’s seen you naked.

He weighs all of the pros and cons and all of the ways the situation could play out if he tells you. He decides the only way it’s going to end is with you quitting and never wanting to see him again. Telling you who he is is out of the question.

Your face is buried in the menu, effectively blocking you from looking at Anakin. Your nerves are irritably on fire as you sit knee to knee with your boss. You go out to lunch with someone to talk. To get to know them. But you have no idea what to talk about with him. Either he’s super blunt or incredibly awkward and you don’t know what to make of it.

Could Sabine be right? Does he have a crush on you? Do men in their forties even get crushes?

“You are awfully quiet behind there,” Anakin finally says. “Are you hiding from me?”

You slam your menu down nervously. “What? Oh, no. Just… looking at all of the options.”

“I’m kidding,” Anakin chuckles. “If it helps, Leia likes the poke rice bowl. Luke likes the flatbread with artichokes. And I normally just get a burger.”

“Wow, a 9 year old who likes poke? You’ve got some interesting kids.”

“You have no idea,” Anakin replies bashfully. He really calms down when he talks about his kids. Maybe that’s your key to him. Keep him talking about his kids.

“Well, I think I’ll try Leia’s favorite. Do your kids enjoy trying different types of food?”

Anakin gives you a noncommittal shrug. “I suppose so. I didn’t raise them to be picky eaters. They eat what I eat. We had dumplings last night. They’re shit at using chopsticks but it makes for an entertaining meal.”

You laugh along with him, feeling yourself relax the more you see Anakin relax. “I love dumplings!”

“Yeah? We’ll have to have you over some time for dumplings, then.” Anakin doesn’t even realize what he’s saying until it’s hanging between you, awaiting your response.

“That would be nice,” you admit. “I can’t wait to meet them. Of course, you know… if they even want to meet me.”

“Are you kidding? Luke almost threw a fit over me leaving you in the car yesterday. And Leia… well, Leia gets excited about any new woman in my life. I mean, not that you’re my new woman, just you know, in terms of you being Dorothy’s replacement and-”

You place your hand over Anakin’s without a second thought. And it’s more than just skin on skin. It’s electric. You resist the urge to pull away because the overwhelming feeling almost keeps you from saying: “It’s fine, Mr. Skywalker. I get what you mean.”

Anakin is looking down at your hands and you wonder if he feels it too. Or if it’s entirely inappropriate to put your hand on his and he’s going to go back to being standoffish. You remove your hand from his and sit on it.

“You don’t have to call me that,” Anakin murmurs. “Mr. Skywalker. I would much prefer you to call me Anakin.”

You look up at him timidly. He’s being sincere. One corner of his lips are quirked up to form a sideways smile and your heart— your stupid, stupid heart adores it. Perhaps there is harm in pretending like your boss is in love with you. Perhaps keeping yourself in check is going to be a lot more difficult than you thought. Because now that you’re on a first name basis with Anakin Skywalker, you fear simply being his assistant is not going to be enough.

◂ series masterlist ▸ chapter four (coming soon)

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