Devil Of Hells Kitchen

he first time Buck went to a bar alone after Abby left, he lasted exactly 7 minutes and 22 seconds before he turned around and went back to her apartment. It’d been so long since he went to a bar by himself. He had always gone with the sole purpose of hooking up. But Buck wasn’t that guy anymore, he didn’t want to be. Besides, he missed Abby too much to enjoy himself.

The second time Buck went into a bar alone was 4 months after she left. He managed to have at least one drink this time. The words ‘I don’t mind, you’re young, do whatever’ circled around his brain. But when he finally worked up the courage to actually take in the people around him, guilt hit him like a tidal wave. He didn’t want to hook up anymore. How could he, when he’d had the real thing and knew how good it could be?

The third time Buck went to a bar alone, he was a fully-fledged firefighter. As much of a high as that gave him, he was still restless. That night was even worse than good old-fashioned horniness. That he could handle with his hand. His skin was itching, and he wanted to crawl out of his brain. He needed something stronger and more settling than himself. Abby had been gone for months, and they were talking less and less.

‘I’m just going to look,’ he told himself. ‘Maybe the rush of that will be enough.’

Then a dark, handsome stranger walked in.

Now, in his Buck 1.0 days, he was never picky. He’d sleep with anyone he had any kind of good vibe with. Yes, he mostly slept with women, but as far as hookups go, it was usually quicker and easier, and they were more likely to be more receptive. He’d dodged a fair few punches for flirting with the wrong guy before. Needless to say, Buck never saw himself as having much of a type beyond ‘consenting’ before Abby came along.

This man, it turned out, was his type.

Dark, fluffy combed back hair, neat matching stubble, clearly works out - he could see his biceps from across the bar and through his flannel shirt. Alone.

Buck was with Abby, but there wasn’t a chance in hell he was walking out of that bar without at least buying Mr. Wet Dream a drink.

Eddie wanted the ground to swallow him whole.

He was too much of a pushover when it came to his Abuela and Tía. He’d gotten his assignment, told when his first day of work would be, and they’d practically kidnapped Chris and thrown him out the door.

“Eddito, for once in your life, let off steam while you still can.”

So now he was in a random bar in LA, feeling even more lost than when he packed his life up in a car and moved states.

It was a weekday, so the bar wasn’t too crowded. There was a TV showing some kind of sport on one wall. Maybe he could just grab a drink or two and watch whatever game was on, then go home and try and get a full night of sleep for once.

He took a seat at the bar, and was about to grab the bartender’s attention when suddenly, there was a solid mass pressed up against his side.

“Can I buy you a drink?”

Eddie turned his head, ready to politely decline, but then-

Wow.

He had never used the word ‘pretty’ to describe a man before, but dear God, this must be the prettiest man Eddie’s ever seen.

There was a week of tension, where you treaded on eggshells, trying not to bring it up, despite desperately wanting to discuss other options. Then came his acceptance of his emotions, late at night, curled up behind you in bed. It started with a light sniffle, then you could feel his tears drip onto the skin of your shoulders, then the whole-body sobs as he held you, told you he was sorry. You’d turned in his arms, wrapped your arms around his neck and held him, whispering softly that it was okay, that it didn’t matter, that you had options. You could still have a family, just perhaps not in the traditional sense. 

Then came the weeks of appointments. You’d met with an adoption agency first. They’d talked you through the application process, what they expected of you, talked about the type of family you want, but Tommy had been adamantly against it for your first child. He wanted something borne of your blood, of your flesh, even if it wasn’t his that joined it. 

Then there were the medical appointments talk of special drugs Tommy could take, or the possibility of IVF, even a sperm donor. It had started to look like these could be an option until the cost was placed in front of you. There was no way either of you could afford it, not even together, not even if you sold the house for something smaller. You’d reached the end of the line with no answers and the thought that you’d have to resign yourself to being childless. 

Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad? You could take all the love you’d wrapped up for a baby and put it somewhere else. You could love your niece Sarah harder, give some of it to the children you worked with each day at the school – you didn’t need to be a mother to feel complete. The longer you sat with it though, the more you felt something missing. The end of the line was frustrating and lonely. That was, until Tommy came up with an alternative. 

It's late on a Thursday evening. You’ve just cleaned up from dinner and you’re lounging on the couch with Tommy’s arms wrapped around you, your head resting on one of his shoulders. 

“Can I ask you somethin’?” He muses above, settling his lips on the crown of your head. 

“Always.” You squeeze the hand you’re resting on his thigh. 

“What if we ask Joel?” 

“To fix the back steps?” You ask, referencing the rotting steps that had needed sorting since winter cleared, “Can’t you just do it yourself?” 

“No sugar,” He clears his throat, “Y’know what, forget I said anythin’.” 

“Tommy,” You grumble, pushing yourself off his shoulder, you rest an arm across the back of the couch where he’s sitting, “You can’t just say that and not elaborate.” 

He’s nervous. You can see the bouncing of his knee, something you’d clocked was a nervous habit on your first date. He’s also running a hand along the back of his neck, exactly what he always does when he’s got to say something difficult. You can also see the start of prickles of sweat on his brow. He’s not just nervous, he’s uncomfortable. You rest a hand on his shoulder, the way he’d taught you to do it when you’d first met, when he was still grappling with the anxiety and PTSD of being a veteran. 

“I’m worried I’m gonna scare you, sugar.” 

You run a hand through his thick head of curls, “Tommy, I’m not going anywhere.” 

“Promise to just hear me out before freaking out, okay?” 

You stick your pinky up, motioning for him to join his own with yours, “Pinky swear, Tommy Miller.” 

 “What if we ask Joel, you know….” He trails off, mouth opening and closing like a fish as he searches for the words he needs, “Fuck, I don’t even know how to say it.” 

“Just take a deep breath and say it all at once.” 

He takes a deep breath in like you instructed, blowing it out through his mouth, “What if we ask Joel to help with gettin’ you pregnant?” 

It takes a minute for what he’s said to properly sink it. Your first train of thought, stupidly, is that Joel is a carpenter, not a doctor, so there’s no possible way he’s qualified to help with this. Then it washes over you all at once. Heat prickling at your cheeks, breath hitching in your throat, you think you might be sick. 

“You want me to sleep with your brother?” You ask, tone coming out far more accusatory than intended, you soften your expression and squeeze his shoulder when you notice how hurt he looks. 

“Well, it certainly ain’t my first option, or the second and third for that matter,” He sighs, “Look, it was stupid, forget I asked.” 

He moves to get up from the couch, but you’re dragging him back down, fingers gripped around his wrist, “It’s not stupid Tommy, but you gotta help me understand how this is an option.” 

He’s looking at you now, big brown eyes with a hint of sadness staring into your own. He cups your cheek in one of his palms, “I know how bad you want this sugar, how much you want a family,” He leans in to press a chaste kiss to your lips, “And I’m sorry I can’t give that to you, sorry we can’t afford the fancy drugs that would make this easier,” He sighs deeply, “The only option we have is to do somethin’ like this, and if I’m gonna let another man touch you, I want it to be someone I trust, and he’s the only person I would ever trust with this,” He rubs a hand over his face, “Least I know it might have a chance of lookin’ somethin’ like me too, instead of goddamn Steven from Ohio or whoever they’d use.” 

You feel your gut twist when he speaks. This absolutely batshit crazy idea is actually coming from an incredible place of care. He knows you want a child; lord knows you were trying your hardest together to make it happen before that damn piece of paper had to go and ruin it all. 

“You wouldn’t find it weird, knowing I’d had sex with your brother?” 

“Well, it doesn’t mean anythin’, does it baby?” 

“No, I suppose it doesn’t,” You shrug, it was just a means to an end, “You think he’ll agree?” 

“I don’t know baby,” He answers honestly, wrapping you back into his arms, “I’ll take him out this weekend, ask him and see what he thinks.” 

There’s still something here that doesn’t sit right with you. Sure, it makes sense, and of all the people who you could choose for yourself you’d probably have settled on Joel too. Stoic and sensible Joel, brooding and grumpy Joel. He’d always been kind, had welcomed you into the family with open arms, praised you multiple times for finally keeping his brother on the straight and narrow. He was a good man, loved his little girl with all his heart, would never hurt a hair on your head, but you were still uncomfortable. 

“If he does agree,” You shift nervously on the couch, “I want you to be there.” 

“You don’t trust him?” 

“No, of course I trust him Tommy,” You sigh, “I’d just feel more comfortable if you were there.” 

“Anythin’ for you, sugar.” 

It’s early on Sunday morning when Tommy rolls into bed, 3am to be exact, smelling of whiskey to tell you he’s finally asked Joel to help you. He slinks onto bed and wraps his arms around your waist, kissing over your neck and down your shoulder to wake you. When you finally grumble and admit you’re very muchawake now, with his hand gripping your hip, he’s speaking in a hushed whisper. 

“He said yes.” 

“He take much convincing?” You ask, shuffling around in his arms so you’re facing him, his face gripped in your palms. 

“He was wary, thought I’d lost my mind for a good few minutes,” Tommy leans forward, pressing a kiss to your lips, “Told him it was my idea and you’d thought the same, but he came around, think he knows how much we both want this.” 

A part of you had thought he’d say no. That there was no way that stoic, sensible Joel would ever consider sleeping with his brother’s girlfriend in order to knock her up, but he’d proved himself a man of many surprises before. As Tommy presses kisses to your lips and settles you both to sleep, there’s the bubbling of nerves in your belly, of doubt. Are you really doing the right thing? Is this going to make the dynamic between the three of you awkward as hell? Sure, you’re all grown adults and this is just a means to an end, but there’s still the unknown of what comes after.  

Tommy goes out that morning and brings back a bag, filled with ovulation tests and, perhaps a little prematurely, pregnancy tests. You do one of the ovulation tests that morning and as expected, the screen shows a sad face, gratefully showing you that you still have time to prepare for what you’re going to do. Three days later when you do the test again, there’s a grinning happy face, almost taunting you that it’s time to face the music. You show the test to Tommy, who places a palm on the back of your head, bringing your forehead to his lips. He murmurs that he’ll tell Joel, and that’s how not even twenty-four hours later, it really is time to bite the bullet. 

It's late, Joel having insisted that he needed to make sure Sarah was settled and asleep before he came over. You’re sitting at the foot of the bed, legs dangling aimlessly whilst you wait. You really had no idea how this was going to play out, so you’d dressed yourself in a simple cotton nightdress, silk robe tied around your middle for extra coverage. There was an empty whiskey tumbler on the nightstand. You’d had three, maybe four? Enough to take the edge off, but not too much that you weren’t aware of what was happening. 

You hear the doorbell chime and then Tommy’s heavy footsteps downstairs as he opens the door. You can hear his voice and Joel’s mingling together, but you can’t decipher what either are saying. You probably don’t want too either. What could two brothers’ possibly have to say to each other when one is getting ready to sleep with the others girlfriend? You listen to them talk for a bit before you can hear two sets of feet ascending the stairs. You stand from the bed, wrapping your arms around yourself for another layer of comfort when there’s a knock at the door. 

“Come in!” You call, bouncing nervously from foot to foot. 

The door swings open and Joel is stood there, dressed in his usual attire, dark wash jeans and a black t-shirt, work boots obviously discarded downstairs, Tommy knew you hated people tracking dirt into the house. He takes a moment to take the sight of you in and you think you must look ridiculous, silk robe making way to bare legs – it had seemed like such a good idea at the time, he could just push the material up, do what he needed to do and be gone, but now you wonder if it looks like you’re trying to seduce him. 

“Hey sweetheart,” Joel’s voice is soft and when you look into his eyes, they are too, and it does put you at some ease, “C’mere.” He’s motioning for you to step closer, opening his arms so he can pull you into a hug. 

You’ve hugged Joel hundreds of times before this, in much the same way. One of his arms wrapped around your shoulders, the other squeezing into the middle of your back. It’s usually friendly, meaningless really, but when you take in the press of his broad frame, you can’t help but realise you’re going to know him far more intimately than you’d ever imagined by the end of the night. 

He releases you and you’re semi-aware that Tommy has slunk into the room behind his brother, he’s leaning against the wall as he watches Joel take hold of your hand, guiding you back to sit on the bed where you had been before. God, you think, he’s not wasting his time, he wants this to be over just as much as I do. You look up at his broad frame towering over you, if this was anyone else, you’d be intimidated, but he’s still got that soft look to his brown eyes. He shocks you next, cupping your jaw in his hand and running his calloused thumb over your bottom lip. 

He turns his head to Tommy, “You wanna tell me what she likes?” 

Oh. Oh. You’d expected something much more clinical than this. You’d never imagined he’d work to make sure you enjoyed it. You also turn your head in Tommy’s direction. He’s still leant against the wall, one ankle crossed over the other with his arms crossed. 

“She likes getting her pussy eaten, don’t you baby?” 

Joel is gently coaxing your face back to look at him, staring directly into your eyes, “That right, darlin’?” You look up at him as you nod, mouth open a little in shock, “Wanna make sure you enjoy this,” He’s saying, “Gonna take real good care of you.” 

Then, he’s dropping to his knees at the front of the bed, shifting so your legs are draped over his wide shoulders. Whilst Joel is focused on kissing trails from your knee, slowly up the expanse of your thigh, you look to Tommy, who has moved from the wall to sit in the small chair in the corner of the room that you would usually use to read in. He gives you a nod and a small smile, silently telling you to enjoy yourself. Your turn your attention back to Joel between your legs, who has slowly hitched up the cotton of your nightdress to pool at your hips, exposing your pussy to him. 

You can feel his hot breath skittering across your skin and there’s an anticipation building that you hadn’t expected. You’re moving your hips, almost subconsciously, to chase the relief you know his mouth was about to bring. Joel has his big palms on your hips then, holding you steady before he’s licking up the length of your pussy, tongue dipping ever so gently between your folds to find your clit. You let out a shaky breath that you hadn’t noticed you were even holding in, then Joel is moving again, tongue dipping into the entrance of your pussy, licking all the way up again before he’s laser focused on your clit. 

Your hands instinctively rake through his hair, gripping the strands between your fingers to keep him in place as he uses the tip of his tongue to run tight, wet circles to your bundle of nerves. You’re propping yourself up with a hand on the mattress behind you whilst the other keeps its place locking in Joel’s hair. Then, you’re actually grinding your pussy into his mouth, desperate for more but scared to ask for it. 

“It’s okay baby,” You hear Tommy speak from his place on the chair, “We want you to feel good, don’t be shy about askin’.” 

You look down between your thighs and see Joel looking up at you, mouth still latched to your aching pussy, “Joel,” You groan, “Fingers, please.” 

“So polite, darlin’.” He murmurs against your skin before he’s doing as you asked. 

He’s still showering your clit with attention, the sounds of his literal slurping doing nothing to stop the flush of arousal you’re feeling right now, as he pushes two of his thick fingers inside your slick cunt. You don’t know what you’d expected of Joel in this kind of scenario, perpetually single Joel, who never really seemed interested in anyone. You knew now, as he was curling those fingers inside of you, pressing into the spot that had you crying out and gripping his hair tighter than ever, that it wasn’t because of his abilities that he was single. 

“Fuck, holy shit Joel, I think….” 

“You gonna come for him baby?” You hear Tommy ask from the corner of the room. 

“I think…” You let out a sharp cry, “Don’t stop.” 

And he doesn’t. He keeps thrusting his fingers into your pussy, tongue still running those tight circles over your bud, but now he latches his lips around it and sucks, actually sucks at your clit. You’re lost. Your elbow buckles and you collapse on your back onto the bed, crying out a string of expletives as Joel works you through your high. Pleasure has burst across your skin, finding every single possible nerve ending and setting you on fire, your thighs are gripping his face as you ride out the last of the shuddering aftershocks on his fingers, pussy walls fluttering around them as you try and catch your breath. 

You can feel Joel recoiling from between your thighs. You can hear the sound of him undoing his belt and then it clattering to the floor. You use your weak arms to push yourself up the length of the bed, head settling in the pile of pillows at the top. You turn your face to Tommy and gasp, hunger igniting in your belly at what you see. Somewhere in the middle of Joel shattering your world between your thighs, Tommy has shucked his jeans and underwear down just enough to free his cock. He’s using his fist to work himself in slow strokes at the sight of you. 

You can feel Joel’s body clambering onto the mattress with you, settling between your thighs with his wide hips spreading your legs an obscene amount to accommodate him. He’s taking hold of your jaw in his hand, dragging your attention back to his face, “You’re fuckin’ me tonight pretty girl,” He growls, “Eyes on me.” 

It isn’t a torturous job by any means. Joel is weathered, his skin holding the early sign of wrinkles at his eyes, beard starting to grey, but you can’t deny that he’s handsome. Especially when he’s looking at you with eyes that are begging to devour you. He sits back on his knees, taking hold of the belt that is keeping your robe shut across your body to undo the loose knot you’d tied in it. He’s dragging you up by a wrist just far enough to shuck the material from your shoulders, laying you back down to play with the straps of your nightdress. 

“Can I undress you properly, darlin’?” He asks. 

You gulp. Finally noticing that he’s stripped to just his boxers, outline of his incredibly hard cock visible when you let your eyes drag down that far. 

“Go on baby,” Tommy encourages from across the room, “Let him see how beautiful you are.” 

Your eyes are back to holding court with Joel’s own and you nod. He’s pulling you up by the wrist again, sitting you up so he can drag that final bit of material off your body. You lie back down and watch as his eyes drag over every single inch of your skin. 

“Pretty as a fuckin’ picture.” 

He’s got those wide palms dragging down the curves of your sides, holding you in place to just watch you for a second before he’s hooking his thumbs into his underwear and dragging them down his thighs, freeing his cock. He’s fisting himself a few times before he hooks your knees over his arms and slides himself into your waiting cunt. 

It’s all you can do to let out a high-pitched moan at the intrusion, but fuck he feels good. You look up at his face, eyes closed and breathing deeply as he stills inside you once he’d buried in you to the hilt. 

“So fucking tight, darlin’,” He groans as he pulls himself almost all the way out before starting the long, torturous thrust back inside you, “So fuckin’ perfect, ain’t ya?” 

“Fuck Joel,” You throw your head back into the pillow, “Feel so good inside me.” 

He’s picking up the pace now, thrusting into you in earnest now. The angle he’s got you folded into means his cock in brushing that fucking spot inside you that is driving you crazy, raising goosebumps and setting you on fire, drawing high-pitched whines from your throat whenever he finds it. 

“Touch yourself baby,” You hear Tommy’s throaty request, you don’t dare look at him for fear of the sight of him finishing you off, “Joel’s gonna want you to come on his cock, so show him what a good girl you can be.” 

Joel is already circling your wrist with his hand, dragging your fingers to your pussy as he watches where his cock disappears inside you. Your own movements are sloppy but the slick that Joel’s mouth has dragged from you make the movement of circles on your own engorged and sensitive clit easy. It doesn’t take long for your second orgasm to hit you, clenching your pussy around Joel’s hard cock which hasn’t let up for a single second since he started pounding into you. 

“She’s so fuckin’ pretty, Tommy,” Joel’s voice is low and husky above you, almost desperately so, “So fuckin’ pretty when she comes like that.” 

“Don’t I know it, brother.” You hear his strangled reply. 

Joel is all of a sudden flipping you on the bed, your legs straddling his hips, palms planted on his chest to steady yourself. 

“Take what you want darlin’,” He’s groaning, “Ride my cock and knock yourself up.” 

You do just that, grinding your hips backwards and forwards on his cock with your fingers digging halfmoon shapes into the meat of his chest as you lean forward, bouncing on his cock in earnest. 

His palms are gripping the globes of your ass, knees coming up to rest on your bare skin as he starts fucking up into you, meeting your thrusts halfway. The sounds of your skin slapping together is obscene but oh so delicious. 

“You like when my brother fucks you like that?” Tommy’s deep voice draws your attention to him, he’s still got his cock in his hand but he’s thrusting up into it and you can tell just by the look on his face that he’s close. 

You look him dead in the eyes, breathy moan falling from your lips when you say, “I fucking love it, Tommy.” 

It all happens at once. Tommy is moaning and you can see him start to spill across his hand. Then Joel is gripping your hips, stilling your movements as you feel him start to come inside you, filling you up with his cum, your name falling from his mouth with a tangle of expletives built in for good measure. 

“Fuckin’ take it, pretty girl.” Joel is growling from beneath you, pushing his cock impossibly deep inside you like he’s begging your pussy to soak it all up, to get it to take. 

The room is silent save for the sounds of the three of you trying to catch your breath. You collapse, somewhat unceremoniously off Joel’s body and onto the mattress, placing an arm over your eyes to try and calm yourself down. Why the fuck was that so hot? Is all you can think. You’re only semi-aware of him shifting and gathering his things, only semi-aware of Tommy cleaning his hand off on his jeans to re-dress himself. You’re almost asleep when you feel the press of a kiss to your cheek, opening your eyes to find it was in fact Joel who did it, thumb running soothing circles across the skin of your hip. 

“Thank you.” You say meekly, reaching up to cup his face in your palm. 

“My pleasure, darlin’,” He smiles down at you, “I hope it helps.” 

Then he’s gone, following Tommy out of the bedroom and back down the stairs. You can, once again hear their muted voices, but this time, instead of setting you on edge, it lulls you to sleep. By the time Tommy comes back, climbs into bed and spoons you from behind, you’re almost asleep. 

“Did so fuckin’ good for me baby,” He murmurs into your ear, “So fuckin’ proud of you.”

Through the haze of sleep taking over you, you manage to mumble out, “Hope it works.” 

He chuckles, his body shaking your own where he has you wrapped in his embrace, “Me too baby, me too.” 

“It’s historical,” you lamely reason, lunging forward to grab the book from him but Billy’s reflexes are as quick as a cats. He pulls it out of your fingertips and you attempt to snatch it again, but he pulls it back and you go toppling over him. Billy uses the leverage to flip the both of you over and he’s straddling your waist, holding the book over his head when you reach towards it.

“Historical filth,” he counters, cheeks a little flush from the shuffle of your bodies but that grin permanently smeared on his face.

“Billy,” you whine, “Give it here. It’s embarrassing…”

As you raise your hands to grab it again, Billy grabs your wrists with his right hand and holds them down against your chest. Your whole body feels tight with humiliation and you choke back the tears forming in your eyes. God, you could be such a baby sometimes.

That’s why Billy liked you, though. You acted like such a good girl all the time, he was relieved to find the raunchy book because it let him know that deep down, you were a little vixen and his attempts to draw it out of you had been mostly failures. You two had already slept together, just one time and whenever it came to fooling around, you were so shy.

“This thing is worn,” he comments, looking over the novel in his hand, “How many times have you read it?”

“None of your beeswax,” you huff, “Give it here, Billy. Seriously!”

As you plead, you squirm under his grip, trying to get your arms free so you can rip the book from his hand and maybe destroy it. You haven’t decided, you’re so incredibly embarrassed but it is one of your favorites.

Billy tilts his head ever so slightly, “Should I read some of it to you?”

“No!” you shriek, eyes widening up at him but a part of you is very intrigued. Billy’s voice is like honey, the timbre of it is deliciously low like it comes deep from his throat. You’re suddenly very interested in hearing him read it out loud but you’re still full of shame that he’s found the book. Your hiding place wasn’t very good but enough that your parents or siblings hadn’t found it. Of course, Billy is far snoopier than they are and you should’ve anticipated that when you went to pee, he would be going through your things.

Billy places the book down and moves your wrists to your sides, adjusting his legs so he can pin your arms underneath them. He smiles at you, retrieving the book again and flipping to the first page he’s dog-eared.

“Ya know, there’s a lot of like, bullshit in this book,” he muses, “They don’t even fuck until like almost the end of the book. And then after that it’s like more blah blah blah—“

“It’s called plot,” you argue, voice shakier than you meant for.

The blonde snorts, peering down at you, “I can get you some magazines, ya know? You don’t have to do any reading to get to the good part.”

“I don’t read it for the…” you can’t bring yourself to say the word.

“The filth? Really?” he hums, “I find that hard to believe.”

“It’s true,” you lie, wriggling beneath him.

Billy licks his lips, “Let’s see… oh, here’s where it starts getting good; ‘His hand goes somewhere unexpected. Lydia’s eyes widen as the duke’s warm, strong hand smoothes up her milky, white thighs.’.”

“Billy,” you warn, eyebrows knitting closer. It’s as sexy as you imagined but you didn’t entirely anticipate Billy would be so good at reading aloud, it’s almost like he’s practiced with it. He doesn’t stumble over any of the words like you do when you have to read aloud in class.

“Shh,” he shushes you around a smug smirk, “‘Her liquid desire seeps out as he ruffles her petticoat up to her waistline,’ Liquid desire. I like that. Clever way to say she’s wet.”

“Stop!” you protest but the words are purging your own ‘liquid desire’ and you’d rather Billy not have the satisfaction.

“Spicy stuff here. But then the dude only fingers her,” Billy complains with a disappointed frown and flips to the second page he’s dog-eared. “Ah, here we go, I really love this line: ‘Lydia writhes against Arthur but her body freezes as she feels his hardened cock pressed against her stomach.’” He lets out a short laugh, “They actually wrote cock. That’s hilarious.”

You raise an eyebrow, “What word would you use?”

“Cock, definitely, but it’s not a classy word. I thought they’d say like penis or something,” he retorts, biting his lip as he looks to your flushed face.

“Penis isn’t a sexy word,” you argue and feel yourself squirm against him, not because you want him to stop but you want to keep him under the impression you do.

“Yeah, you’re right,” Billy agrees and then asks, “Cock turns you on, though?”

Billy’s sorely mistaken if he thinks you’ll admit to that, no matter how true it is. You shoot him an annoyed look and he clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth. He always does that so loud, you’re left impressed each time. You’d tried to do it as loud as he does on nights when you’re bored and alone but it’s never quite as good.

“Lemme see…” his eyes scan the worn pages, “Ooh, this I like: ‘She gyrated the softest part of her against the hardest of him.’”

You also liked that line, it made you think of Billy every time you read it.

“Also, do these chicks ever write about small dicks? They’ve mentioned how huge this duke is like twelve times,” he wonders aloud, lifting the book so he can look down at you.

“Sympathetic?” you bite back, wanting to tease Billy for how he’s teasing you.

“Oh, honey,” he chuckles, “you and I both know damn well I ain’t small.”

“Then they’re representing you,” you point out with a wavering smile.

Billy tsks, and then lets out a giggle, thumbing through the pages again. As he finds a particularly dirty passage and begins reading it, you can see his pants tightening over his crotch. You raise an eyebrow, flicking your eyes back up to his face but Billy is too distracted by the words he’s reading to notice.

“Well, well, well,” you say in a teasing tone.

He averts his eyes, seeing that his hard-on is pretty damn obvious in his jeans and you’ve got the perfect view of it. He actually blushes, the reddening hiding his freckles and he closes the book, tossing it behind him as he gazes down at you with his nose scrunched up.

“What?”

“You seem to like it, Billy,” you purr, not trying to suppress the giggle rising from your throat.

“Shut up,” he grumbles, scooting back and releasing your arms. They’ve kind of gone numb from the position under his legs but you don’t mind, you enjoyed every second of it. “If I reach in your pants, you’re gonna be just as obnoxiously turned on.”

“I’m the one who owns the book, Billy,” you challenge with a pleased smirk.

“So you admit it then, you read it for the filth,” he quips.

“I’ll admit that if you admit it gave you a boner.”

“I think that’s pretty obvious,” he mumbles, positioning himself between your legs and hooking his fingers into the elastic band of your sweats. He pulls them down and you lift your legs to help expel them. Billy tosses them to the floor and spreads your thighs, biting his lip as he brushes his knuckles against your clothed heat. A raspy moan is ripped from you, back arching as his knuckle brushes against your aching clit.

“Oh, Billy…”

“I can just see that ‘liquid desire’ soaking through your panties,” he muses, voice rough but the term brings a laugh from the both of you. It also makes you that much wetter.

“Oh my god,” you mutter through the laugh, “You’re never gonna let that go.”

Billy hums, pushing his nose against where his knuckles just were, “Don’t think you really want me to.” His breath tickles the skin where your thigh meets your pelvis and you inhale sharply. Your thighs tingle, heat rising up them and it’s almost overwhelming. Then you feel Billy’s stubble against the flesh of your thigh and his teeth follow, biting at your skin lightly. Your body jolts at the touch and your thighs open even wider, urging Billy to return his movements to where you want him most. His lips curl up as he rests his cheek against your inner thigh, eyes peering up at you. His pupils are so dilated, you can barely see the ocean blue around them.

“I want you,” he admits, smoothing his palm over your core and resting his fingertips against your pubic bone.

The admission draws a deep moan from you because he looks so adorable between your legs but the palm on you and the words make you desire him so deeply it almost hurts. Billy wants you. The idea itself makes your thighs tremble and your hands shoot down to rake your fingers through his dirty blonde curls.

“You have me,” you breathe but wonder how you look at his perspective and it forces you to prop yourself up on your elbows, wanting to look as pretty for him as possible.

“Can I have you?” he asks, pushing his palm harder against your center.

“Yes, Billy,” you pant out.

He sits back up, peeling your underwear off of you and then settling back down between your legs. He kisses tenderly at your thighs, brushing the tip of his finger against your dripping hole. The noise that pushes from your lips is desperate yet a thankful noise, you’ve been wanting Billy to touch you like this since he straddled you earlier. He makes a surprised but happy sound in return, swiping his tongue against your labia experimentally. The warm, wetness of it is welcomed while it’s not distinctly pleasurable, it feels really nice. His single digit penetrates you slowly while he continues to lick your pussy lips. It’s excruciating, but you know he’s doing it with purpose. The first time Billy had touched you intimately, he done the same. Teasing you with touches that were close to where you wanted but not quite there. You’d come to learn that Billy wanted you to plead and beg for him. Which you weren’t exactly confident doing yet. You still felt reserved and a little shame in asking for what you wanted. That’s presumably what got your boyfriend off: pushing you out of your comfort zone and breaking down those societal expectations.

“Billy,” you whine out, tugging at his curls.

“What?” he asks like he knows exactly what you want, a smile present in his voice.

You flush, you weren’t going to get the relief unless you explicitly requested it. You knew this and it makes your throat tighten and your mouth feel dry, tongue heavy in your mouth. You chew on your lower lip as you muster up the courage to put your desire into words.

“Not enough,” you whisper, timidly, “I want more.”

“More?” he pouts up at you, “Tell me what more means.”

“Lick…” you flush, closing your eyes as you try to gain the confidence.

“Lick what?”

“My pussy,” you breathe out, pulling his hair gently.

“I am,” he smirks, “You want me to lick here?” He presses the tip of his tongue to your clit and your head falls back against the mattress,

“Yes!”

He hums and then flicks his tongue against the sensitive bud, the fingers of his left hand digging into your thigh. It’s warm and oh so wonderful as he puts his mouth entirely on you, licking through your folds before focusing on your clit and lapping against it, nose brushing against the curls above your center. You bite down on your lip hard enough to draw blood. The two of you are completely alone for at least another few hours but you’re accustomed to keeping quiet, trying to keep your pants and moans of pleasure at a reasonable volume. Billy’s tongue proves to make it difficult. It’s just as fit as the rest of his body.

“Lemme,” he grunts as he pulls away, pushing your top up your chest and he exhales when your chest is exposed. You’d intentionally skipped putting your bra on today, knowing Billy was coming over. He palms at your breasts, squeezing gently as he moves up to suck hour nipple into his mouth. It feels amazing, not nearly as great as his mouth on your pussy but this is a little more intimate. You can see him better up here, how pink and plump his lips are and the way his eyelashes curl. Billy is single handedly the most attractive person you’ve laid eyes on and here he is, mouthing at your chest.

“Baby…” you whimper as he adds a second finger inside of you.

It’s all a little overwhelming but feels too damn good to stop. You’re in too deep, you’d follow Billy like a lamb to slaughter. As his fingers curl up and drag against your spongy spot, you cry out. You don’t know how much more you can take, suddenly desperate to feel his cock filling you up and stretching you out in the most beautiful way. It’ll be your second time of what you hope to be a life full of.

“Want—“ you gasp, grabbing onto his sleeve. “Want you so bad, Billy.”

He smirks up at you before sitting back on his heels. He pulls his Henley over his head and placing it next to your body. You reach out and feel the contours of his muscular pecs, brushing the pads of your fingertips against his stiff nipple. He’s like one of those Greek statues, sculpted beautifully but unlike the marble, his skin is so soft. He bites the side of his lower lip as he smiles, his eyes squinting with the expression. He’s so damn beautiful, your heart swells.

“You’re…” the compliment dies on your tongue as you suddenly feel demure.

“I’m what?” he breathes, anticipation present in his drawl.

“Everything,” you admit, bashfully.

You think you see him blush, you can’t be sure because Billy’s leaning down to kiss you. It’s a dizzying kiss, you rock your hips up with it as he pulls desire out of you. You meant it, he’s everything to you, everything for you. He’s it for you and if he’s not, there’s gonna be a helluva heartbreak. No one has been so easy to be around. Billy’s like your best friend, he makes you laugh and cry and cum. What the hell else do you ever need besides this man above you?

“Fuck,” he curses, hand on your shoulder as he pulls away, “My dicks so fucking hard it hurts.”

The complaint is nothing but a masked compliment. You widen your legs, moving your hands down to his hips so you can grind up against his clothed erection. “Need you,” you inform him breathlessly.

“You have me,” he smirks, smoothing his thumb against your cheekbone. “Can I fuck you?”

You know he asks because it’s only the second time it’s happening, or could be. You decided long ago that you wanted it, but he doesn’t know that.

“Need you to,” you counter, the walls breaking down slowly. Billy is good at urging the desperation out of you. You're sure he could persuade you into murder, or something nearly as awful.

Billy grunts, pulling away long enough to rid himself of his jeans and boxers. His cock sprouts up and slaps against his abs, angrily hard and you notice his tip is leaking more than you’ve seen before. Your mouth waters at the sight but you’re too eager to blow him. You’re clenching simply at the sight and promise of him burying his cock inside your fluttering cunt. Billy crashes his lips against yours, the shaft of his cock rubs against your soaking pussy and it draws a mutual groan from the two of you. Perhaps you can write a letter to the author of the novel, express your gratitude for it being the source of this very charged moment between you and your stunning boyfriend. You even consider writing your own spicy story about him, he’s damn good inspiration. If you ever write a memoir, you hope and pray that Billy is a lasting role in it.

“Billy,” you plead against his bruising lips.

He grabs your jaw with his left hand while he grabs a hold of his cock with his right, hissing as he runs his tip through your folds. Your body shakes under his touch, hips rocking up ruthlessly from the electricity his movements bring. The romance you read is exciting but can’t compare to his in any way. You’d much rather have him in your bed every night instead of reading until you can’t handle it and hump against your pillow in search of relief. This is tenfold better.

“That feel good?” he inquires, voice hoarse. “You’re so fucking wet.”

He says the last bit like he can’t believe it and you reel from it, reveling in the fact that you can turn Billy on just by reacting to him naturally. The carnal desire in you evaporates every wall you’ve ever built up. There’s no shame left in you as you tell him, “S’all cause of you…”

“Yeah? Am I better than the book?” he asks, circling his tip against the rim of your aching entrance.

“Picture you when I’m reading it,” you pant out the confession, eyes falling shut as his hips jerk forward from your words, his tip penetrating you in an easy, fluid motion.

“Touch yourself at the thought of me?” his voice is so hoarse and the sound of it has you clenching around him. He obviously notices it but the whine that pushes passed his lips.

“Always…”

“Fuck,” he exhales, slipping deeper inside your tight cunt. His girth is a shock, but a good one. It’s only the second time. Your fingers and also his, don’t compare. But you’re thoroughly aroused and you swallow his length easily. The burn is dull and adds to the pleasure. He continues, “That’s so fucking hot.”

His face in contorted in concentration and arousal, “The thought of you fingering this tight pussy—“ he grunts, “Thinking about me fucking you.”

“This is better,” you moan, grabbing onto his bicep as he bottoms out, balls warm against your skin.

“I think about you too,” he says between clenched teeth, “When I jerk off…”

It makes your head feel heavy, you’re totally honored. The image of Billy in his bed, pulling at his cock while your name tumbles from his lips makes your hips rock forward repeatedly. He makes a whiny noise and your eyes open, wanting to see it happen again. He’s a goddamn vision, sweating above you with curls sticking to his forehead. Goddamn, he’s so intoxicatingly sexy. Sometimes you get this overwhelming urge to grab onto his face and you indulge in it now, hands pressed against his each side of his head while he pounds into you. His eyes are intense as he stares back at you, these delicious little grunts and moans leaving his lips. The room is spinning, Billy’s eyes are so consuming it feels like he’s devouring you. You’re entranced, bodies writhing against each other while you both chase a high only the other can guarantee.

“Billy—“ you choke out, “I’m.. I’m gonna…”

You can’t finish the thought as he drills into you, his hands grabbing your hips and angling them up so he drives against your g-spot with every thrust.

“Cum?” he offers, voice throaty and hoarse. “You gonna cum for me, babygirl?”

“Ahh…” you try to tell him yes but the waves of the orgasm make it impossible as it thrashes through you, your ankles crossing behind his back as he pounds into you.

The pistons of his hips are unrelenting, you’d be impressed with his stamina if you weren’t being dragged through the most demanding orgasm you’ve ever had. You’re loud, the sound of your voice is foreign, rough and guttural. Billy seems to like it, his eyebrows rising before furrowing as he pins your hips against the mattress and bucks into you brutally. His face is scrunched up and these high pitched, pretty and desperate noises he makes are so wonderfully delicious. His movements freeze and you feel his warm completion fill you up.

“Billy…” you moan at the sensation, it’s unlike anything you’ve felt and he collapses on top of you, a panting mess as his lips find yours. The kisses are frantic and sloppy. You’re not even certain they could classify as kisses. Then his eyes are wide and he’s lifting himself up.

“Fuck, oh shit,” his voice is full of panic, “Oh, god, I’m sorry.”

You’re close to passing out, but you manage to ask, “For what?”

“I came inside you,” he explains, eyes wide.

“Mhm… felt so good,” you mumble, not able to care about his terror in the aftershocks of your orgasm.

“I didn’t mean to… fuck,” he breathes against your cheek, “Gonna have to.. get a plan B.”

“Billy,” you sigh happily as you wrap your arms around him, “Mmm… feels so good.”

Jackson is just so… normal.

Or at least as normal as a town can be in an apocalypse.

Returning with Ellie, they were given duties like every other person who lived there to keep the place continuing to be normal.

They’ve been there a little over a month, and Joel already has a routine: up at seven am, making sure Ellie gets up, too (ignores her grumbling), goes with her to the canteen to have breakfast (ignores her glares). They split up to go do their jobs for the day, him returning to the house around five, showering the day away, then goes to have dinner with Ellie at six (happily listens about her day and the girl she’s taken a liking to named Cat). She goes to hang out with her new friends, and he likes to go sit in the bar to have a couple of drinks over a few hours and people-watch.

It’s more person-watch, or at least each time he’s gone, there’s only one person who catches his eye.

Every night at around eight, you make your way into the bar, taking a shot of something clear at the bartop, then going to the jukebox, putting on a song, and dancing.

It’s not one song, or two, you keep them going and dancing until there’s a sheen of sweat on your skin, and you finally have to get some water.

It entrances him with how carefree you are, how happy you are, your eyes closed, smiling as you just lose yourself to the music, moving to the beat.

Sometimes people join you, sometimes men try to convince you to get a drink with them that you always politely decline, and Joel would feel like a creep, but sometimes your eyes open and lock with his, and you wink at him, which always makes him so damn flustered. He knows you’re aware of him because when you enter the bar, your attention goes to his corner table, smiling at him before you go take your shot.

There’s no way in hell you’re interested in him, though—he’s way too old for someone so young and lively. You probably just enjoy having an audience watching as you float across the dance floor, having the time of your life.

It doesn’t matter anyway because he’s convinced himself he’s fine on his own and doesn’t need anyone. He isn’t even sure if he can allow himself to care for another person, not after all the ones he’s lost—so all of his focus has been on his kid and keeping her safe.

He’s sitting at his usual table with his whiskey in front of him, watching as you dance to an upbeat 80s song in your black leggings and purple tank top, when suddenly someone is plopping down in the seat next to him, taking him from his reverie, quickly turning his head to realize it’s just Ellie.

“Is that her?” she asks, pointing at you moving in the empty space in front of the jukebox used as a makeshift dance floor.

He feels a flush creeping up his neck, “Don’t point,” he says, lowering her hand. “It’s rude.”

“Fine, Joel, I won’t point.” She rolls her eyes. “But is that her?” she nods her head toward you.

“Is that who?”

“The woman Tommy says you stare at with moon eyes but are too chicken shit to ask out.”

His face pinches in anger, turning his attention to the teen. “I do not stare at her with fuckin’ moon eyes,” he grumbles.

“Yeah, you do. It’s disgusting—just ask her out already.”

“I’m too old for her,” he replies, taking a drink.

“You are fucking old, but with how she looks at you, I don’t think she gives a fuck.”

He lowers his glass. “How does she look at me?” he asks quietly, and Ellie grins.

“Your sight must be going, old man,” she ribs. “She looks at you with the same goddamn moon eyes, and it’s obvious she likes you, too.”

“That’s a fuckin’ lie—ain’t nothin’ obvious.”

“Well, you’re the only person she looks at, so…”

He perks up.

“Am I?”

That can’t be…

“Yep, and you should just finally make a fucking move.”

He crosses his arms over his chest.

“Why are you givin’ me shit when you’re too chicken shit yourself?”

Her eyes round.

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

He lowers his voice to make sure nobody else would hear.

“You like Cat, and from the times you’ve brought her around, she likes you, too.” He shrugs. “I’m not the only one with fuckin’ moon eyes.”

“Ah ha!” She points at him. “You do have a crush!”

“Keep it down,” he hisses, frantically looking your way and seeing you’re still dancing without a care.

“Jesus, Joel—chill out. I wanna make you a deal.”

“What’s that?” he asks, meeting her eyes with a raised eyebrow.

“I’ll ask out Cat if you ask out Dancing Queen over there.” She juts her thumb toward the dance floor.

He lets out a long low sigh scrubbing his hand over his face because Ellie was his kid, and he wants her to be happy, and she’s happy with Cat. If this will get her to do something about her own crush, he obviously has to do it, but it will be so fucking embarrassing when he gets shot down.

“Fine.”

“Fuck yeah! She’s heading to the bar. Now’s your chance.”

His eyes go wide. “Now? You want me to do it now?” He figured he’d have time to work up the courage—he’s rusty.

“Yeah. Go.” She pushes on his shoulder, and Joel reluctantly gets up with a groan, scratching at the back of his neck as he walks toward you. Looking back at Ellie, she’s grinning and giving him two thumbs up, which spurs him on to do what she asked.

You’re chugging a glass of water, your skin glistening in the lights of the bar from sweat, and Joel thinks you’re the prettiest thing he’s ever seen.

He approaches, taking a deep breath. He finally clears his throat. “Um, excuse me, ma’am?”

Setting the cup down, you turn to face him with the most beautiful smile curling up on your lips.

“Cute corner guy!” you say, and his cheeks heat.

“The name’s Joel,” he replies, sticking out his hand.

“Hi, Joel—” You introduce yourself, shaking his offered palm, and he notices how much smaller yours is. “—I’ve been waiting for you to come talk to me.”

His eyebrows are in his hairline. “You… have?”

“Oh, yeah, you’re very handsome, and don’t stare at me like you’re picturing me naked. It’s honestly refreshing. Wanna have a drink with me?”

He smiles. “I’d like that very much.”

Ellie has disappeared, and the two of you take up residence at his usual table. He finds you’re lovely to talk to—learning you’d been in Jackson almost six months, you lived in the Denver QZ before that, your age which had him wondering why in the hell you were even giving him the time of day, and you hadn’t crossed paths outside the bar in the rotation of jobs because you were a teacher down at the school full time.

“—so the dancin’ helps wear you out so you can sleep?” he asks.

“Yes.” You nod. “Insomnia is an absolute bitch, but if I can get myself tired enough, I’ll finally sleep—so dancing, which is much more fun than going for a jog or running.”

“Fuckin’ hate runnin’,” he replies, taking a drink.

You giggle. “I do, too,” you say, taking your own sip. “Was that your daughter earlier?” you ask.

“Oh.” He scratches his mustache. “Kinda? I’ve basically adopted her as my own, and she lives with me, but she doesn’t call me dad or anythin’ like that.” He shrugs.

“Okay, so you’ve got a kid, are from the Boston QZ, have been in Jackson for a month, are Tommy Miller’s brother, prefer whiskey, have the most gorgeous brown eyes, and enjoy watching random women dance in bars.”

He huffs out a breath, knowing his cheeks are tinted pink, darting his eyes away.

“I, uh, apologize if I’ve made you feel uncomfortable…”

You touch his bare forearm on the table, his flannel shirt’s sleeves rolled up, and his skin tingles under your palm.

“I promise you don’t make me uncomfortable at all. To tell you the truth, I quite enjoy you watching me and kinda hoped you’d talk to me sooner… or join me.”

He meets your gaze, swallowing hard, surprised at the hope swelling in his chest.

“I, uh, apologize again, but this time for bein’ so forward because I haven’t talked to a beautiful woman in quite some time, and I just want to make sure I’m not misreadin’ things…?”

You smile warmly at him.

“Joel, I am very interested in you romantically, and one drink away from being brave enough to see if you want to come back to my place.”

You do like him, and he’s honest to god shocked. He’d convinced himself he was better off alone, but maybe having someone wouldn’t be too bad. Jackson is safe, there isn’t much risk aside from patrols, and Ellie seemed to think he needs somebody—and you’re so beautiful and sweet; he was already gone on you before he’d spoken to you, and now that he knows he’s got a chance, he’s not going to waste it.

He gulps, his tongue swiping over his bottom lip as arousal crashes into him like a freight train.

His voice goes deeper. “I can promise you, I’d say yes.” He has to ask, though. “You really want an old guy like me?”

Smirking, you answer, “Oh, yeah, I really like you, and I just know you’ll be good in bed.” You wink, rubbing your hand up his arm.

He sighs, running his fingers through his hair. “It’s been a long fuckin’ time, and I’m out of practice, so it might not be as good as you’re hopin’...”

“Good thing we’ve got all night for you to practice over and over and over again,” you purr.

“Jesus Christ,” he breathes, his jeans feeling much tighter. “You, uh—”

“Want to get the fuck out of here?” you interrupt, smiling at him. “I’d like that very much.”

Joel Miller is a goddamn sweetheart and a really good kisser.

The moment your front door is closed, he has you against it, kissing you hard—one of his hands cradling your face, the other moving up your stomach to grab your breast, moaning when his tongue slips between your lips to tangle with your own.

Arousal is burning brightly in your belly, your cunt throbbing with need, wanting this man desperately.

You, of course, had taken notice of Cute Corner Guy Joel Miller the first night he’d gone to the bar for a drink. Those beautiful brown eyes never looked at you salaciously. If anything, it was more in wonder and so unbelievably adorable you’d been dying to talk to him but wanted to ensure he made the first move to know he liked you and not just the show you put on. It didn’t matter to you that there were quite a few years between your ages; he’s incredibly attractive, and you wanted to know more about him. Plus, as a bonus, you’ve heard older men who grew up before the world went to shit were very generous in bed, which would be nice since your little bit of experience with guys your own age hasn’t been all that great.

Your fingers are working open the buttons on his shirt, his tongue sliding along yours in a way that makes your toes curl, him interrupting by grabbing the hem of your tank top, tugging it and your sports bra over your head in one go, tossing them away without a care. Returning to what you were doing, Joel's big hands are on your tits, trailing kisses down your neck until he’s bending to suck one of your pebbled nipples between his lips.

“Oh, god,” you gasp at the sensations shooting straight to your pussy.

He comes off you with a wet pop, smirking. “It’s Joel, but close.”

“A dumb joke—fuck, that’s hot.” His shirt was undone, impatiently pushing it off his arms and taking in his broad chest and the little bit of softness on his belly, noticing scars, some old, some new, littering his golden skin. “Fuck, you’re hot.”

He’s palming your breasts, his big, expressive eyes looking at you, and you can see the honesty in his gaze when he replies, “You’re fuckin’ beautiful.”

“God, you’re so fucking endearing—I need your dick inside me,” you say, rubbing your hand over the impressive bulge in his jeans.

He chuckles. “Bedroom?”

“End of the hall.” You point.

He’s on you again, his lips crushing against yours, his hands on your waist to help guide you as he moves you away from the door, walking you backward down your hall, kicking off your shoes as you go.

You’re glad your tiny two-bedroom house was clean, squeaking in surprise when you basically get thrown into the middle of your queen-size bed, a lamp on your bedside table illuminating the room in a soft glow.

Sitting up on your elbows, you watch as he toes off his shoes, his belt clanking as he works it open, unbuttoning and unzipping his pants. He pushes them down and off with a groan, delightfully discovering that Joel goes commando and revealing the prettiest dick you’ve ever seen—long and slightly curved up with a nice girth to it, the tip reddened and shining with precum, your eyes going wide at how big he is.

For the first time, you think you might want to try blowing a guy, never having an opportunity before with people’s personal hygiene iffy outside of the town walls.

His attention is back on you, leaning over the mattress to grab the waistbands of your leggings and underwear, pulling them both off before he crawls up onto the bed between your spread legs.

“Can I suck your dick?” you ask.

His gaze is burning when it meets yours, shaking his head. “Sorry, baby. You can later, but right now, I gotta taste your pretty little pussy.”

Your eyebrows lift. “You’re gonna eat me out?”

No one has ever gone down on you. It’s always been quick fucks to scratch an itch—dear god, Joel’s going to ruin you for anyone else, you just know it, and it excites you immensely.

“May I?” he asks in return.

“Yeah, but you should know it’ll be the first time…”

His face goes pale, his eyes widening. “Havin’ sex…?” he croaks.

“What? No, I’ve had sex—” He visibly relaxes. “—a handful of times. There’s just never been much… foreplay? Kinda thought it was a myth.” You shrug your shoulders.

He’s frowning. “It ain’t no myth and a fuckin’ shame no one’s tasted you,” he says, moving onto his stomach, his big hands pushing your thighs apart with his head at the apex of your thighs, staring at your pussy with a look of hunger. He spread open the lips of your sex with his fingers. “I could spend hours with my face buried in this gorgeous cunt,” he rasps, his words making your core clench hard around nothing.

“Fuck,” you whisper. Anticipation is swelling up inside you, suddenly blurting, “Can I keep you?”

You feel the blood rush to your face. ‘Can I keep you?’ Where the fuck did that come from, and how are you hoping he’ll respond, that he wants to date you? Actually, yes, that is your hope.

He meets your gaze with a confused look. “What?” he asks.

Taking a deep breath, you say, “I really like you and don’t want this to be a one-time thing… Can I keep you?” You chew on your bottom lip.

His face softens, eyes on yours as he kisses your inner thigh. “Yeah,” he replies. “You can keep me if I can keep you—I’m a one-woman kinda guy, anyway.”

“I can be your one woman?”

He smiles. “I’d like that very much, Tiny Dancer. Your, uh, handful of times, did any of them make you come…?”

The question has your face heating, answering, “...no. I usually took care of myself…”

He looks honest to god offended. “Fucking selfish men,” he seethes. “That won’t do. Here’s how this is gonna go. I’m gonna lick your pussy and use my fingers to make you come at least twice—It’s been a while, but I sure as fuck remember how to pleasure a woman. Then I’ll give you my dick, and I’ll be honest, I don’t know how long I’ll last bein’ inside your tight little cunt, but I’m aimin’ to make you come one more time, and that’ll be round one.”

The way he sounds so sure has you throbbing.

“Just marry me already, Joel.”

Your comment makes him laugh. “Let me take you out a few more times, and then we can discuss marriage,” he replies with a wink.

“Fucking deal.”

There’s an earnest expression on his face. “If I’m doin’ somethin’ you don’t like, tell me, no hard feelin’s—same goes for if there’s somethin’ you’re really likin’. I just wanna make you feel good, Tiny Dancer. You understand?”

You nodded your head.

“Use your words, baby.”

“Yes, Joel. I understand.”

He smiles. “Good girl.” His response has you gasping as tingles move down your spine. There’s a knowing smirk on his face. “You like that,” he states. “You like being my good girl—I know you’re gonna be real good for me, aren’t ya?”

Your lip is pulled between your teeth, so unbelievably turned on, nodding your head at his question.

His fingers slap against your clit, not hard, but enough it has sparks of pleasure igniting in your center, your head falling back as you moan.

“Words, baby,” he says.

“Yes, Joel,” you gasp.

“That’s my good girl. Feel free to pull my hair—I like it.” He ends the sentence with a wink, then his attention is back on your wet heat, watching him lick his lips, knowing he can see you glistening in arousal.

His fingers spread you open again.

“Such a pretty fuckin’ pussy,” he murmurs. “Bet you taste amazin’.”

He spits on your clit, your eyes going round, feeling the hot saliva as it slowly drips down to your sopping hole, moaning loudly when Joel’s head dips down, swiping his tongue through your folds from your entrance and back up.

It’s a new sensation and heavenly.

He’s groaning like he’s enjoying the most amazing meal, licking every bit of your sensitive flesh he can get. The beginnings of your orgasm are taking shape, feeling the heat starting to build low in your belly, and when his lips latch around your bundle of nerves, and he sucks, that’s when your hands end up in his grey hair, needing something to hold onto.

“Oh, fuck,” you moan. “It’s so good. Joel, it’s so good. Don’t stop.”

It’s almost overwhelming, your body starting to writhe, his arm like iron over your lower stomach to keep you still, his facial hair scratching deliciously on your intimate skin while he licks and sucks at you with abandon. You see him between your legs, your fingers tangled in his grey waves, his eyes closed as he feasts on you like a man starved—they open to meet your gaze, his glazed over and so dark you’re not sure any of the beautiful brown remains.

“You’re gonna make me come.” The muscles in your belly start to tighten, his tongue licking your entrance while his head shakes, nuzzling your clit with his perfect nose, and the sensations send you over the edge, your body tensing up as you come with a shout of his name, euphoria exploding in your veins.

You're panting as you fall back flat onto the bed, hearing Joel’s muffled voice saying into your cunt, good girl, him groaning as he shoves his tongue inside you to lick up your release.

You’re in love with him.

Or maybe that’s just the happy chemicals coursing through your body.

God, he’s perfect—how could you not fall in love with him?

His head pops up. “How was it?” his rough voice asks.

“I’m in love with you,” you answer dreamily.

His chuckle is warm. “That good?”

“Oh, yeah. Fucking incredible.” You sit back up on your elbows to look down at him, your slick coating his facial hair around his mouth and the bottom half of his face. “This is what I’ve been missing? I am mad but also so fucking happy you finally talked to me.”

“You, uh, really were waitin’ for me to talk to you?”

“Yes.” You nodded. “I love your beautiful, expressive eyes, and you’ve always looked at me differently than other men, almost like you were seeing me and not just my body, you know? And I just really wanted to get to know you. I figured all of the winks and smiles would clue you in that I was interested.”

“I just thought you liked havin’ an audience.”

“You’re literally the only person I like watching me.”

He sighs loudly, looking away. “I feel dumb for not realizin’ sooner.” He shakes his head. “Fuck, I wouldn’t have even made a move if Ellie hadn’t put me up to it.”

You smile. “What, did she dare you?”

He has the sweetest smile when he meets your eyes. “No, she made a deal with me that she’d ask out her crush if I asked out mine.”

“That is the cutest shit, and I do not know why you being a good dad really does it for me. Come up here and kiss me.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he replies, groaning as he crawls up the bed, ending up with his hips in the cradle of your thighs, feeling his cock all hot and hard digging into your belly. His arms are on either side of your head to hold himself up, his face above your own. “You’re beautiful,” he says, nudging the tip of his nose against yours.

“Thank you,” you breathe. “You’re very handsome.”

His lips hover over your own. “You want me to kiss you?” he whispers.

“Please.”

“As my lady commands,” he responds, slotting his mouth to yours in a searing kiss.

You moan at tasting yourself on his lips, your hands ending up in his hair, opening for his tongue to slip inside and slide along your own. It gets more and more fervent, your body thrumming in desire until the need becomes too much, and you’re murmuring into his mouth. “Fuck me.”

He groans, answering, “Can’t yet—gotta make sure you can take me.”

You break the kiss, his mouth red and kiss swollen, his dark eyes looking at you questioningly.

“I’m wet enough,” you reply. “Just stick it in.”

He inhales deeply. “I don’t wanna hurt you, baby.”

“Isn’t it supposed to hurt?”

It’s always a bit uncomfortable at first.

His eyes squeeze shut, taking a deep breath, whispering, Jesus Christ, on the exhale. “No, sweetheart, it’s not supposed to hurt if you’re doin’ it right.”

“Oh.” You’re frowning. “Joel?”

He looks at you. “Yes, Tiny Dancer?”

“I’ve had sex with the wrong people, haven’t I?”

“Looks that way, but we’re changin’ that tonight.” He kisses you quickly before he moves to lie on his side beside you, one arm propping his head up, his other fingers skating up your stomach to your breasts, circling around one nipple, then the other, making you shiver and goosebumps erupt on your skin. “I’m gonna use my fingers,” he rasps, his finger now circling your belly button. “I need to open you up—is that alright?”

“Yes.” You nod. “As we’ve discovered, I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing—can’t believe I’ve been doing sex wrong.”

He sighs. “Just chose selfish assholes who didn’t give a fuck about you or your comfort.” His eyes narrow, eyebrows knitting together, his hand pausing. “Do any of ‘em live here?” he asks in a low tone, and the change in demeanor makes you gulp.

“So you can teach them a lesson…?”

“I just wanna talk, is all.”

“Uh-huh, right. With your fists? The enthusiasm is sexy, Joel, but they’re all back in Colorado.”

“A shame.”

You cup his cheek. “Just means you get to show me how to have good sex, and isn’t that exciting?” you ask, wagging your eyebrows. “You’re the first man who’s made me come, and I’d really like to do that with your dick inside me.”

“Fuck,” the word is said barely above a whisper, seeing his throat bob as he swallows. “You’re gonna be the goddamn death of me. I fuckin’ know it.”

Smiling, you pat his cheek. “Never, Joel. I like you too damn much.”

He has a little smirk. “Yeah? You like me?”

“I mean, I’m counting this as our first date, and I’ve already told you I’m in love with you and have basically proposed marriage, so I’d say yes, I like you very much.”

He chuckles, his hand coming up to cradle your jaw, his thumb rubbing over your bottom lip. “You’re so fuckin’ cute.” He presses two fingers to your lips. “Suck,” he orders. “Get ‘em nice and wet so I can loosen you up ‘cause I am fuckin’ dyin’ to be inside you.”

Doing as he says, you suck them into your mouth, massaging them with your tongue, ensuring you’re getting them nice and wet, feeling delighted when his mouth falls open.

“Have uh—” He pauses to audibly gulp. “You asked if you could suck my dick. Have you ever…?”

His fingers leave you, shining in spit.

“No,” you answer, shaking your head. “It’d be another first.”

His eyes get darker, moving his hand between your legs, sucking in a breath when he slowly circles your clit, causing sparks of arousal to dance in your belly.

“Fuck, baby, I’ll show you how a bit later—I’m still convinced you’re gonna fuckin’ kill me,” his voice is huskier, dipping his fingers lower to press one thick finger into your aching entrance. “Especially,” he continues, sliding in another digit that makes you moan at the stretch, “with this pussy.” His fingers are pumping in and out of you while his thumb moves on your bundle of nerves, the fire burning low in your stomach, slowly building. He scissors his digits, and you gasp his name.

“Yeah,” he says, leaning over you to give you a quick kiss. Your fingers thread into his hair, pulling him back down for another that he smiles into, him murmuring against your lips, “Gotta get you really fuckin’ wet and stretch you out a bit, pretty girl. I want you to love havin’ my dick inside you and make you feel so good, you beg me to fuck you again—bet you wouldn’t let any of those other guys back inside this perfect pussy.” You’re whimpering, energy thrumming under your skin as he works you up. “Fuck, you’ve made me so fuckin’ hard it hurts. All I can think about is how fuckin’ tight and warm you’ll be when I finally split you open on my cock—Hell, might even make me come on the spot. You’d like that, wouldn’t ya? Knowing your sweet little cunt drives me fuckin’ wild—you drive me wild, I’m fuckin’ crazy about you and wanna be the only man you want or need.”

He kisses you again, his words making your heart pound in your chest, your body burning up, pushing you closer and closer to your release.

“You are,” you moan into his mouth.

“I’m what?”

“The only man I want.” Your fingers have a tight grip on his grey strands of hair. “It’s so fucking good, Joel—you’re fingers feel so fucking good. Oh my god, you’re gonna make me come again.”

“Damn straight, I am.”

He crooks his fingers, sliding them along your top wall until he rubs something that has you pulling his hair and moaning his name, your back arching. “There it fuckin’ is.” He sped up, fucking his digits into it over and over, the fire in your belly getting hotter and hotter.

“You gonna come for me?” he asks, hearing his fingers moving in and out of you wetly. “Can feel you fuckin’ flutterin’, I know you’re close.”

There’s no time for you to answer because you’re hitting your breaking point and coming with a gasp of his name, your cunt seizing up as pleasure radiates through your body.

“There we fuckin’ go,” he says into your lips. “My good girl.” He kisses you hard, pressing a third finger inside you, the wetness from your orgasm easing the way. Your mind is a pleasurable haze, enjoying his lips on yours while he spreads his fingers, reveling in the delicious stretch.

He breaks the kiss, pulling back, and you open your eyes to see his already on yours.

“I think you’re ready,” he says. “You still want my dick?”

“Yes.” You nod. “I’ve never wanted dick more.”

That makes him smile.

“Good,” he replies, nuzzling his nose against yours before kissing you softly.

His fingers leave you, groaning as he moves to have his body hovering over yours with one arm beside your head, holding himself up while kneeling between your legs.

He meets your gaze. “You tell me if it doesn’t feel good.”

“Yes, Joel.” You nod again.

“Good girl,” he purrs. His free hand comes up to his mouth, spitting on his fingers, using them to slick up his cock, then he slides his length through your folds to get himself even wetter. He notches at your entrance and slowly starts pushing in, it feeling like he’s splitting you open, your cunt accommodating his girth, stretching around him, filling you inch by glorious inch.

He’s cursing under his breath as he slides in all the way, and when he’s bottomed out, you feel so unbelievably full it has you gasping—your fingers are digging into his shoulders, Joel’s face pressing into your neck.

“Jesus Christ,” he groans, the sound muffled. “You’re pussy’s gonna make me come.” The thought of him coming inside you has you clenching around him. “Fuck,” he pants. “Don’t do that—I need a second, or this is gonna end before it’s started.”

You’ve never let someone come inside you, yet here you are saying roughly, “Joel?”

His head comes up immediately to look you in the eyes with worry on his brow.

“Am I hurtin’ you?” he asks earnestly. “Is it too much?”

“No, it’s so fucking good—it feels so fucking good. You feel so good inside me.”

“What is it, Tiny Dancer?”

“I want you to come inside me. Please.”

He hisses, a pained look coming over his face, feeling his cock jerk. “I can’t,” he pants. “Can’t risk it—you can have it anywhere else.”

“Okay,” you reply, trying not to sound too downtrodden—it’s his choice, after all, and you respect it.

“Sorry, baby,” he kisses you sweetly. “I’m gonna move.” He pulls one of your legs up high on his ribs, then the other, both of his arms ending up on either side of your head, locking your feet at the small of his back, feeling the splay of muscles move as he pulls almost all the way and pushes back in, both your mouths falling open. He starts with a slow, steady rhythm, his dick carving out space in your depths and filling you perfectly. He’s so big that when he pushes all the way inside, it feels like he’s all up in your guts, the feeling stealing your breath, but it’s so good—his cock is pressing into spots you didn’t know existed, that familiar heat making itself known in your lower belly.

Sex has never felt like this.

He’d gotten you so wet, he’s sliding easily in and out of you, hearing the suck of your pussy taking him. It’s blowing your mind at how fucking amazing it feels, even with him being so well-endowed, there isn’t any discomfort—you’re moaning unbidden, unable to keep it in, Joel breathing hard, him slowly picking up the pace until he’s grunting, and there’s a slap of skin on skin, his thick cock filling you over and over.

The only thing you can think about is how good he feels, pleasure wracking through your body with every push and pull of his hips. Your nails are digging into the skin of his shoulder blades, Joel's mouth fusing with yours to kiss you while he fucks.

“Touch yourself,” he says into your lips, and you slide a hand into the little bit of space between your bodies to play with your clit. His golden skin glistens in sweat, a beautiful flush crawling up from his chest to his gorgeous neck and cheeks, rough sounds pulling from his throat as he kisses you. Your fingers work against your sensitive nub, and it has you rocketing closer and closer to your end before you’re coming again, crying out his name, your body tensing, your pussy squeezing him so tight, a strangled groan escapes Joel as he has to slow to a stop.

Your body is alight in ecstasy, Joel nose to nose with you, a drop of sweat on the tip of his falling onto yours, saying through heavy breaths, “You almost fuckin’ got me.”

Blinking open your eyes, you look up at him with a dreamy smile.

“Yeah?” you ask, voice rougher than usual. “Am I gonna make you come?”

“Yeah, you fuckin’ are.”

“Good—come for me.”

He starts moving again, his hips pushing in and out of you, hearing the wet slide of his cock fucking into you.

His face screws up like he’s in pain, his mouth slack, eyebrows knitting together, eyes closed, grunting as he sets up a hard pace that makes your eyes roll back.

It’s so fucking good.

“I want you to come for me,” you moan. “I want you to feel good, Joel.” Your hands move into his sweat-damp hair.

“I feel so fuckin’ good with you,” he groans, crashing his mouth to yours, kissing you desperately, all tongues and teeth, your noses bumping.

The springs in the mattress are squeaking, the headboard hitting the wall in time with his thrusts, the slick sounds of your pussy taking him filling the air, combined with moans and groans, the noises in the room are absolutely obscene.

He’s panting into your mouth, picking up in speed, his rhythm getting jerky.

It’s been a long fucking time since he last fucked someone, and he’s so fucking lost inside your pussy—it’s nirvana, heaven, your tight, wet heat lulling him to his finish, his brain unable to think of anything else except how good you feel around him; how perfect, your cunt hugging his cock snugly in your deep, warm depths, and making him lose his goddamn mind.

He told you he couldn’t come inside you—that’s been a hard no for him ever since he lost Sarah, not wanting to risk bringing another child into this godforsaken world, and here you are tempting him.

His conundrum is he likes you a lot, and he knows you like him, too, and not only that, you just like him—there’s no ulterior motive, you don’t want or expect anything from him except him, and he’s so fucking gone on you that maybe it might not be a bad thing if consequences happen from this evening.

Here in this somewhat normal town, he can see you having a life together. One night, and he’d like to have a life with you or whatever you’re willing to give him. He’s spent so many years suffering in his grief and wasting away his days that maybe it’s time for him to actually live. Ellie’s here and safe, and now you’ve come into the picture, and he doesn’t want to keep living the way he has been.

He’s feeling so fucking good, caught up in how you’ve bewitched him, his strokes getting faster, the knot in his belly winding tighter and tighter—it hits him suddenly—the point of no return, his balls tightening up, and it’s too late to pull out, he’s too far gone. His cock is pushed in all the way to the hilt when the coil snaps, coming with a guttural groan that reverberates in his chest, spurts and spurts of his spend gushing deep inside you, Joel feeling like he’s filling you to the brim.

Pleasure is thrumming in his veins, his heart pounding, collapsing on top of you with his face nestled in the crook of your neck, panting breaths and comforted by your scent—your fingers are moving in his hair, and he’s on cloud nine.

The thing that surprises him is he’s not panicking. At minimum, he expected dread, yet there’s nothing but warmth and happy contentment.

When was the last time he felt this blissed out?

He can’t even fucking remember—he hasn’t felt this relaxed in probably over twenty years.

You say something, but he’s so out of it he doesn’t make out the words.

He hums in question, putting all of his energy into listening.

“I said I’m keeping you.”

Joel snorts.

“Good,” he murmurs. “I’m keepin’ you, too. Fuckin’ milked me dry.”

“Was that okay?” you ask, and he can hear your worry, lifting his head to look you in the eyes.

“I’m well aware of what could happen—are you okay with that?”

There’s a small smile on your lips. “Yeah, I am.”

“Then everything’s okay.” He kisses you tenderly.

After a minute, you pull back. “You’re gonna stay the night, right? Like, we can do… more?”

He smiles. “Tomorrow’s Saturday, and I’m assumin’ you have it off?”

“I do.”

“So do I, and I’d love to stay tonight and the next if you’ll have me.”

Your mouth is turned up in that gorgeous smile, him loving your fingers pushing his hair away from his face. “You can stay forever, Joel.”

And there isn’t anywhere else he’d rather be.

2 years later…

It’s a warmer night, with it being the beginning of summer. The stars shine brightly in the sky high above as Joel and you stroll hand in hand down the street back to his house.

“Thank you for dancing with me,” you tell him, turning your head to look at him, the moon offering some light.

He meets your eyes. “Anytime, Tiny Dancer—it was better than me fightin’ that fucker who wouldn’t leave you alone.”

The bar had been packed tonight, with a lot more people dancing and one guy, who you assumed was new to town, that wouldn’t stop bothering you, which led to Joel getting up from his corner table and staring daggers at the other man as he pulled you into his arms and danced with you.

“It was better, and I enjoyed it very much.”

He smiles. “I know you did, baby,” he replies, kissing your hair.

Arriving at the house, Joel opens the front door for you, walking in first, hearing sounds in the living room, and heading that way.

“...Oh no!” Ellie exclaims dramatically. “They’re gonna get you—better use the jump drive!” As you walk into the room, she makes rocket noises, finding her lying on her back in the middle of the floor, holding up a laughing one-year-old, pretending the baby is flying. “Oh, yuck, you got drool in my mouth, Ollie.” She lowers the baby down on her chest to wipe at her mouth, Joel standing beside you, his arm going around your waist, both of you smiling. Her head tilts up, realizing you’re standing there. “Hey!” she greets. “Wait, fuck, how late is it?”

“Late enough that Olivia should be asleep,” you answer.

Olivia Sarah Miller was a year and three months old and looked so much like her dad that, aside from her complexion, it was a wonder if she’d gotten any of your genes.

“Fuck.” Ellie sits up with one arm, the other holding the baby. “I can explain—you know she has that tooth coming in, and she wouldn’t stop crying when I tried to put her in bed, so I brought her down here so she could chew on a cold carrot like you told me to do when she’s teething. While she was doing that, I was reading her that issue of Savage Starlight Joel found me, and then you know, she wanted to be Dr. Daniela Star and travel faster than light.”

“Uh huh,” Joel says. “Olive wanted to be the Doctor?”

“She did,” Ellie confirms.

“Your baby sister, who can barely talk, told you that?” he asks.

“I’ve learned to translate her babbles, and it was clear she said—” Ellie uses her free hand to make the baby’s bottom lip move to look like she’s talking. “—‘Ellie, I wanna fly.’”

“You’re a fuckin’ liar.”

Olivia yawns, her eyes starting to close on their own.

Ellie grins, speaking quietly, “Yeah, but I tired her out, so you’re fuckin’ welcome.”

Joel sighs, walking over to her, the baby looking up at her dad and holding up her little chubby arms, saying in a tired voice, “Dadadadadada.”

“Yes, baby girl,” he answers fondly. “Daddy’s home.” He groans as he bends down to pick her up, the baby shoving her face in his neck, putting one of her hands on his chin. “Thank you for watchin’ her, Ellie,” he says. “A great job, as always. You stayin’ the night here or goin’ over to Cat’s?”

“Heading to Cat’s, but I’ll meet you guys for breakfast in the morning,” she replies, getting up from the floor.

“We’ll see you then, kiddo.”

“Thanks again, Ellie,” you tell her, smiling. “You’re your sister’s favorite babysitter.”

“Fuck yeah, I am!” she replies in whispered exclamation, walking closer to you. “Hopefully, I’ll be the next one’s favorite, too. How’s my brother doing?”

You snort. “Such high hopes it’s a boy when you know Joel is a girl dad—give me your hand.” She holds it out to you, and you press it to your large swollen belly. “Feel them kicking?”

Her eyes are round in wonder, staring at your stomach. “Strong fuckin’ kicks,” she says. “I definitely think it’s a boy.”

“Well, less than two months, and we’ll know.”

“Yeah, soon I’ll be proven right. Night guys!”

“Goodnight,” you both reply, watching as she heads out of the living room, hearing the front door open and close.

Olivia is passed out in Joel’s arms, him turning his head to kiss her forehead, his big hand rubbing up and down her back.

“Let’s go put her down,” you whisper.

“Yeah,” he answers just as quietly. “I believe I made a promise to my wife I’d eat her out for an hour.”

“Pretty sure it was two hours, and you did, my sweet husband.” Reaching up to stroke his cheek.

“I love you,” he says with big eyes full of devotion, his head moving to kiss your palm.

“I love you, too.”

Masterlist

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“My lower back, uh… my hips too.” You nod as you answer, staring at his hand moving across the clipboard, recording your answers.

You gulp as he looks up at you. “Do you work on your feet?”

“‘Mhm,” you answer, playing with the rings on your finger.

“And you’re 23, correct?”

“Yes, Dr. Miller,” you confirm while he continues to scribble. He sets the clipboard down on the table, giving you a short smile and motioning to the table.

“Just Joel is fine,” he chuckles, “and you can sit for now.” He opens the drawer below the sink, going to grab something. “I’m just gonna start with a few basic tests since you’re a new patient.”

“Okay,” you say quietly, trying to pull your eyes away from how good his back looks while he’s turned away from you. You sit up on the table, settling and taking a breath before he takes a few steps to you.

Joel suddenly kneels in front of you, sending your heart rate up at the view. He looks up at you, sensing the way you tense up. “Are you nervous?”

“Um, a little,” you say, shrugging and leaning back on your hands.

He licks his lips, seemingly holding back a smile. “Just relax. That’s the whole point of this.”

“Right,” you nod, and he begins the small set of tests. He checks the reflexes in your legs, then finally stands up so that you have to look up at him now. He holds you by your elbow, telling you to relax your arm while he checks the reflexes in that area. He finishes both sides, and then nods, writing quickly against the counter.

“Perfect. Can you stand up for me for a moment?” You immediately move to get up from the table, looking at him and waiting for your next instruction. He’s unable to hide the slight smirk now, eyes dark while he looks at you. “Turn around. Is it okay if I lift your shirt?”

Your breath hitches in your throat. “That’s fine.”

“Good girl,” he mutters. Now that he can’t see you, you allow your eyes to widen and your jaw to drop slightly as his words. The tension is so subtle you wonder if it’s even actually happening.

Joel lifts your shirt, your chest staying covered while he inspects your back. He lifts his hand to run a finger down the curve of your spine, making your skin prickle with goosebumps. You roll your eyes at yourself for getting so worked up at the smallest touch, knowing he can definitely see the way your body reacts to him.

“Are my hands okay?” He asks then.

“Yes,” you say in almost whisper, allowing him to continue. Both of his large hands make contact with your waist, his thumbs pressing into either side of your spine. He continues to touch you gently, feeling for certain spots in your back.

“Your spine is slightly curved to the left— nothing to worry about, but it’s most likely what’s causing your pain,” he explains, pulling your top down. He presses a hand to your now clothed back, and turns you around in one movement. “I think with a few adjustments, I’d be able to alleviate a lot of that pain.” You nod dumbly, barely listening as you watch his lips. “Does that sound okay, honey?”

You instinctively bite your lip at the pet name, but quickly realize how dazed you must look to him and pull yourself together. “That- Yes, that’s good.” You blink and his head tilts slightly as you don’t recover fast enough for him to not notice the way you just looked at him. But he doesn’t mind, no, he’s looking at you the same way.

“Lay down on your stomach for me.” Joel’s eyes flicker to the table next to you. You do as he says, leaning down onto the cushion. “Yeah, just like that.”

You almost whimper, feeling that familiar feeling settling in your tummy as your panties dampen. Your eyes fall shut as you feel his hand on the small of your back, pressing into different places. “Does any of this feel uncomfortable?” Joel asks.

“No.”

“What about here?” His hand moves dangerously low, nearing the curve of your ass as he applies pressure.

“Nope,” you say in a small voice.

“You have a slight rotation in your pelvis,” he notes, hand still ghosting over your skin. Oh, God. What’s he looking at? “Bother you when I touch you here?”

“No, it doesn't bother me.” You’re not even sure what he’s talking about anymore, you just know you don't want him to stop.

“Good girl,” Joel praises again, patting you. Your skin is on fire in every place that he touches. His hand moves directly over your ass, pressing into the muscle and you can’t help but gasp, lifting your head off the table slightly. “You okay?”

“Yeah, sorry, fine,” you stutter, letting your head relax back down again.

“Don’t be sorry,” he speaks, his deep voice sounding like honey.

“There’s a bit of tightness in your glutes,” Joel begins, softly massaging you. “You’d need a physiotherapist for that, but I’ll see what we can do about it first.”

You breathe out as he releases you and walks to the end of the table, holding both of your ankles in his hands and lining your body up to get a better look. “Your left side is a little shorter than the right. I can help that with a few adjustments to your hips as well.” You hum in agreement, his thumb rubbing small circles into your ankle. “Okay, flip over for me, sweetheart, gonna check your hips now.”

You turn over, resting on your back now and staring up at the ceiling with your hands resting on your abdomen. You watch out of your peripheral vision as he comes to the side of the table, lifting and bending your right leg into your chest. “Does this hurt at all?”

“Yes,” you tell him. His eyebrows furrow slightly in concentration as he pushes your bent leg across your body to the left, not applying too much pressure.

“And this, honey?”

“Yeah, that feels uncomfortable.”

He does the same on the other side, getting similar answers from you on the amount of pain you’re feeling. He sits in the circular rolling chair, right by your side as you continue to lay on your back. You tilt your head towards him as he speaks, trying to focus on what the hell he’s saying. “It seems you have a hip impingement. There are a few mobility stretches I can show you that will help with that. But overall, you’re young, malleable. I’d say you have nothing serious to worry about…”

You don’t hear much after that, just watching him, eyes raking over his body. The way he sits with his legs spread, his arms draped over his legs, hands resting in between them. You can smell his cologne from how close he is to you, the scent filling your lungs and making you feel dizzy.

“Did you hear me?”

You blink. “Uh, yeah. Yes.”

He pauses, smirking at you, eyes narrowing slightly. You think he’s about to comment on the way you totally just checked him out, but he says nothing as he moves to sit at the front of the table by your head. Joel’s hands are on your shoulders, you can feel the warmth of his body, his legs on either side of the head rest. He massages into them, trailing his hands up your neck and into your hair. You can’t help but shut your eyes, holding back your moans and clenching your thighs together tightly.

“You seem kinda tense, honey.” You can hear the amusement in his voice. “Do you like it when I touch you here?”

Your eyes snap open. “Uh… I, um—”

“You can be honest,” Joel says, the cockiness dripping from his voice. “It’s supposed to feel good.”

“Yes,” you admit, your face beginning to feel warm.

“Yeah, you do,” he says quietly, almost to himself. The words have your hands sweating, thighs pressing together while your hips shift up slightly with need. You don’t say anything as he holds your head into his hands, moving it gently from right to left, loosening you up before he sharply cracks your neck to one side. You sigh at the relieving feeling, whimpering softly as he cracks your neck to the other side as well. He’s suddenly grateful you can’t see him as the bulge grows in his pants.

“Feel good?” He asks.

“Yes, Joel.”

He adjusts his pants, cock growing harder at the sweet sound of your voice uttering his name. Joel stands up, placing both of his hands under your shoulder to lift your back. You’re in a seated position, your legs straight out in front of you. You watch him as he walks to the side, the growing bulge in his pants unable to go unnoticed as he settles next to you. You do your best not to look, but he notices you glancing down anyway.

“Cross your arms over your chest for me.” He guides your arms to the correct position then says, “I’m gonna place one hand on your shoulder, then lower you down onto my other hand. You’re gonna feel pressure, but it won’t hurt, okay?”

“Okay,” you say, blinking up at him, doe eyed. Joel nods, eyes flickering to your breasts in the tight shirt you’re wearing as he begins to lower you. Your back cracks slightly, but not as much as he needs it to. “Hm, tighter than I thought,” he says with that annoying smirk on his face. “Let me try another position.”

You nod again, your teeth between your lips. He shakes his head slightly, his eyes on your mouth for a moment before moving behind you. “Lock your hands behind your head.” You hold onto your hands tightly as he laces his arms through yours, his hands finding your back. “I’m gonna lay you down over my knee, okay?”

“Mhm,” you whimper, the sound making his cock twitch in his pants. A few minutes ago you would’ve been embarrassed, but you’re so turned on by Joel’s hands on you that you can’t even care.

“Fuck,” Joel laughs breathlessly. “You’re trouble, aren’t you?”

You tilt your head to look back at him. “I don’t know what you mean, doctor.” He raises his eyebrows at you, your voice laced with fake innocence. “Look forward,” Joel demands.

Once you do, he’s lowering you down onto his knee, the crack audible as all the tension in your back releases. You don’t bother holding back the soft moan that comes from your lips, eyes shut as he keeps you there for a moment. You look up at him, and it’s your turn to smirk.

“You like that, huh?” He coaxes.

“A lot.” You sigh.

He chuckles, setting you down on the table gently and moving to the side of you. “You were so shy just a minute ago, baby, what happened?”

“Don’t know.” You shrug your shoulders, a bright blush settling on your cheeks at the new pet name as your eyes shift to his cock for a moment.

“Hm.” He rolls his eyes playfully at you, his rough hand settling on your thigh. “Gonna stretch you a little bit, see what I can do about these hips of yours.” Joel pushes both of your knees up so your feet are flat on the table. Your head raises up as your cunt starts to ache while you watch him straddle the table in front of you. “Relax, honey, lay your head back.”

You listen to him, breath getting heavier as you feel him reach for one of your legs. He stretches both of them individually, pushing them into your chest, across your body. Joel scoots closer to you, then pushes both of your legs into your chest so that he can see the outline of your pussy in your shorts. You whine at the feeling of him pushing your legs apart, pressing them as wide open as they’ll go.

“Be honest with me, if I check right now, is your pussy gonna be wet?”

Your head lifts completely off the table now, your body weight leaning into your elbows at your stare at him in disbelief. “What?”

He scoffs. “Oh, don’t be coy now. You think I don’t notice that slutty little look on your face?”

“Joel—“

“Or the way you’re pressing your thighs together?” He tilts his head at you. “Is your pussy feeling needy, honey?”

You want to protest. You want to deny him. You know how inappropriate this is; how much trouble Joel would get in if anyone found out. But his cock looks so big in his pants and he’s giving you this look that’s making you shiver so all you can do is nod quickly in response.

“Yeah,” Joel taunts. “I know. Want me to make it feel better?”

“Please,” you whimper, giving in.

“Please, what?” He asks, eyes still on yours while he presses soft kisses into your knee, trailing down by your inner thighs.

“Please, touch me,” you choke out, the tension in the air building as he sighs into you. “Please.”

“So polite,” he teases, reaching for the waistband of your shorts. “Lift your hips for me, baby.”

He pulls your shorts down, purposely leaving your panties on. Joel’s hands cup your ass as he closes his eyes for a moment, savoring the feeling of how good you feel in his palms. He leans his head forward, keeping direct eye contact as his nose nudges your clit. You let your head fall back, feeling his breath on your panties.

“No, no, keep those pretty eyes on me.”

“Fuck,” you whine, taking in the look of him between your legs.

He leads his hand to your panties, mouth hovering near your cunt and he pulls the fabric to the side. You watch him lick his lips as he stares down at your core. “Fuckin’ knew it.” Joel shakes his head at you, dragging a finger to your lips and sliding it between them. “You’re soaked, baby. Ruined your panties.”

“Please,” you beg, your hips bucking off the table.

“So desperate, aren’t you?” He mutters, gliding his finger up and down your slit until it’s wet and sticky. You’re whimpering softly, already feeling like you could cum from his gentle touch. He circles your clit over and over until he notices your moans beginning to get louder. He stops his movement, smirking up at you. “Quiet, honey.”

Joel reaches for the waistband of your underwear, pulling them down your hips and discarding them on the floor. He uses both hands to press your knees into your chest, then spreads them wide open like he did before. You’re pouting as you watch him, wanting him to make you cum so badly.

“Fuck, this pussy looks so good,” he groans, “Can’t even imagine how good it would feel on my cock.”

“Fuck me,” you gasp, feeling your hole clenching at his words.

“Not today,” he tells you, hands pressing your legs further back, and you feel his tongue flick your clit. You’re unable to keep from squirming as he continues to lick, his tongue moving flat against you. You’re covering your mouth with your hand to keep yourself quiet, feeding his ego.

All you can focus on is the immense pleasure Joel’s giving you and the sounds of him slurping up your arousal. He laps at your cunt, keeping his tempo steady while he eats. He brings his hand to your aching pussy, sliding in a finger while he licks.

“Fuck, don’t stop.”

He groans, catching his breath while he fucks another finger into you, dragging them against you slick walls. He marvels at how vulnerable you look for him. “Pussy tastes so sweet, baby.” Joel licks your clit once, his fingers hooking in you. He grabs hold of your waist to keep you from moving while he begins to pick up the pace.

Your face is flushed, feeling emotional at how good he’s making you feel, the way he completely worships your body. No man has ever turned you on this way and he does it without even really trying. You can’t even remember how you ended up half naked on the table with your pussy stuffed full of his fingers.

“Getting close, honey?” Joel asks. You moan, nodding and grinding into his hand. “You look so fuckin’ hot like this. Yeah, use my hand.”

“Shit, Joel,” you cry as his hand thrusts so fast your entire body is shaking. You can hear the table creaking under your body weight, the squelching sound of how wet your cunt is, and his filthy words that push you to orgasm.

“Oh, baby, I can feel it,” he coos, leaning down to suck your clit. Your clit is so swollen, throbbing as he continues to pull on it with his lips. He pulls away to spit on your pussy, watching it glisten for him. “You’re so close, come on, cum for me. I know you want to.”

“Fuck,” you whisper, screwing your eyes shut as you feel yourself tip over the edge.

“There it is,” Joel admires, tongue lazily licking your clit and fingers pumping you through your orgasm. “Yeah, keep cumming, just like that, there you go.”

His fingers slow until he finally pulls them out, leaving you feeling empty. Joel watches the cum drip out of your cunt while he sucks it off his fingers. He leans down, moaning as he shoves his tongue inside your hole. You jump at the overstimulation, Joel’s tongue scooping the cum out of you. You run your fingers through your hair and watch intently while he cleans you. He licks through your folds, sucking on your clit a few times until he’s finished.

You come down from your high, reality beginning to settle in as you stare at the doctor in front of you. “You okay?” He smiles, grabbing your panties from the floor and sliding them back up your legs.

“Yeah,” you whisper, feeling totally self conscious now. “Could I… Can I return the favor?”

His hands massage your thighs gently, making it difficult to think logically. “That’s not necessary, sweetheart. However, I think you would benefit from coming back once a week.”

You raise your eyebrows. “You think so?”

“Mhm,” he hums, hands running up your abdomen and under your shirt. Joel hand’s near your breasts for a moment but then he’s dragging them back down along with your shirt. “If you’d like, that is.” Joel grabs your shorts from the floor too, and you sit up, allowing him to help you put them on.

“So, tell me, do you do this with all your patients?”

Joel laughs, shaking his head at you. “Definitely not, no, just you.”

Other lines, however, are much easier to cross. It had started out relatively innocent, something that had happened completely by chance, or at least you both led yourselves to believe it was. You'd both had the same idea one night and had ended up getting off together in the same room, you in the chair beside the fireplace of the abandoned ski lodge you'd both been posted in, him on the couch.

"Are you -" he'd gasped into the darkness when he'd heard the wet sound of your fingers a few feet away, plunging in and out of yourself at a steady rhythm.

"Like you're not," you'd hissed back, "I'm not deaf."

"Thought you were sleepin'," he'd muttered, hand stilling on his cock where seconds ago he'd been stroking like his life depended on it.

"And that makes it less weird?"

He'd groaned, releasing himself and sitting up to squint at you in the darkness, "So what are you gonna do about it?"

You glared at him, not bothering to remove your hand from your underwear as you continued to finger yourself, breathing deeply, "I'm not gonna do anything about it, Joel. I'm gonna keep going. And you can stay here or you can go, doesn't matter to me."

After a few seconds of silence, he'd flopped himself back down on the couch and reached for himself again, fucking into his fist, "No talking," he said through his teeth, "Let's just do it and forget it even happened, deal?"

"Deal," you'd replied, and roughly added a third finger as you watched the dark silhouette of him jacking himself off barely six feet away from you.

One night turned into two, turned into five, and now ten. It wasn't every night, only when you were on patrol together. You'd privately asked Tommy to make sure that Joel was your patrol partner as often as possible, because you felt "safer" with him... you're not sure if he'd really believed you.

You're back in the ski lodge again tonight, both of you situated on the couch in your usual positions, on opposite ends and facing each other. It's ridiculous how quickly it's taken you both to get used to these sessions, the casual feeling of it making it even hotter somehow.

"How many fingers are you using this time?" Joel murmurs, eyeing you where you're touching yourself, unable to fully see what he'd like to.

"Up to you," you breathe, still prodding your clit, "How many do you want me to use?"

"Three," he replies, and you watch as he pulls his cock free from the confines of his jeans, jutting large and solid against his stomach, "Real slow, then real fast."

You nod, lifting your hips up to pull your panties free and expose yourself to him, legs wide.

"Stick to my rhythm," he tells you, watching as you trail your middle finger through your folds, "If I stop, you stop. If I tell you to stop-"

"I stop," you answer for him, throwing him a smug smile, "Same rules as always."

He stares at you without speaking, just waiting. You get the hint and begin to slide your finger inside slowly, making eye contact with him under your lashes and smiling languidly. He fists himself just as slow, looking down at your finger and licking his lips.

"Slow enough for you?" you whisper, adding a second and grinning when his eyes darken, "Should I go a bit faster?"

"Not yet," he whispers, thumbing the head of his cock and fucking into his hand at the same pace as your finger, "Keep it nice and slow for me 'til I say so."

You obey, fucking yourself with your middle and ring finger at the slowest pace you can muster. No matter how annoying his orders are you always do as you're told, not because you're afraid of any sort of consequence, but because you like seeing him enjoy himself, seeing him take control. You've only known him for about six months but you've known for a while that he's been lacking any sort of control in his life for a long time; you're glad to be the one who can give it to him.

"Add your third," he whispers and you oblige, slipping your index inside yourself alongside the others, "Good girl," he breathes, "Such a good girl for me, aren't you?"

You nod, your smugness immediately starting to fade. When he talks to you like this, praises you, it's impossible to keep your hard exterior up for much longer, feeling yourself submit to him. In any other circumstance you love to challenge him, to argue, but in these moments it's the last thing on your mind. You do as you're told, and that's the end of it. He needs control, you need submission.

"Tell me," he whispers.

"I'm your good girl," you breathe, shivering and continuing to shove your fingers in and out at his pace.

He smirks, "Yeah you are."

You continue to fuck yourself at his painfully slow pace, watching him fist his cock at the same speed. He likes to tease you, to build you up until you're begging for it. You thumb your clit and start to whimper, legs trembling.

"Okay, faster now," he tells you, voice low and sultry, "Not too fast, though. Watch me," he tugs at his cock at a bit quicker of a pace, still much too slow for you but you can't do much else but obey him, mirroring him with the thrust of your fingers, "That's it, like that."

After several more thrusts he suddenly stops stroking himself, stilling in his palm. You groan, halting your movements, following the rules.

"How is it that you follow orders so God damn well when you've got your panties around your ankles?" he asks, voice rough, "Yet when we're actually patrollin' you don't listen to a word I say?"

"I'm not your good girl when we're patrolling," you reply with a teasing smile, "But I could be, you know."

He rolls his eyes, "Enough, it's not happening," he nods to your hand, still motionless at your core, "Play with your clit for a second, give me a chance to breathe."

There it is, the line he won't cross. You've already told him that you're willing to give yourself completely over to him, be exactly who he needs, but no matter how many times you try he just won't budge. It's disappointing, truly, because you really do like him. Sure, he's a bit of an ass, plus he's about thirty years older than you, but you've seen the side of him he doesn't show to others. Maybe only hints, but you've seen it. And you care about him.

"I don't do this with anyone else, you know," you whisper, pressing your index finger against your clit and rubbing small circles into it, "You're the only one I'd let treat me the way you do."

He looks at you curiously, raising an eyebrow, "I treat you good, don't I?"

You nod, whimpering a bit as you rub yourself harder, "You do, but you're the only one I'd ever submit to like this, you know that, right?"

He hums, brushes the wide head of his cock with the tip of his thumb, "I know, baby. But it feels so good, doesn't it? You like being my good girl, don't you?"

You bite down on your lip, core aching as your fingers lay still against your folds, save for the index that continues to furiously stimulate your clit, "I do," you whisper, cheeks warming, "I fucking love it."

"There you go," he murmurs softly, then begins to move his fist again, "Use your fingers again, baby, get your pussy all full for me."

You don't need telling twice, your three fingers plunging deep inside yourself without any hesitation. You whimper when your fingertips brush against your favorite spot, so close yet so far. You eye Joel's cock and try to imagine what it would feel like for it to really be inside you, the fat tip of it pounding relentlessly against the deepest parts of your cunt, his girth stretching you out so much your whole body would be shaking. You feel your mouth drop open involuntarily, brow furrowing.

He follows your gaze and frowns at you, pumping himself a bit faster, "You can't have it," he whispers, like he can read your mind, "I know you want it, pretty girl, but you can't. I'm sorry."

"Why?" you mewl, sounding absolutely pathetic as you keep fucking yourself, "I want it so bad, Joel."

"I know you do," he closes his eyes and leans his head back, "Don't ask me why, you just can't."

You'd pout, tease him a little, but he's not looking at you anymore and it physically makes you ache, the way he avoids any allusion to actual sex, an actual relationship. You've asked him so many times and it's always the same answer, never a real reason. You wish you knew why, wish you knew if there was anything at all you could do to make him open up to you.

Instead you mirror his position, tilting your head back against the arm of the sofa and fucking up into yourself, listening to his labored breathing and the slap of skin whenever his fist hits his belly.

"Fast as you can now, baby," he mutters gruffly, close to the edge, "Need you to come for me, need you to be good."

"I'm always good for you, aren't I?" you whimper, opening your eyes to peer at him again, "I always listen, I never break your rules."

"That's right."

"So why can't you fuck me?" you sit up suddenly, yanking your fingers out of yourself and looking at him angrily. He sits up just as quickly, eyes narrowing as he releases his cock and stares at you, "I'm serious, Joel. I want an actual answer."

"You just broke a rule," he mutters and you sigh exasperatedly.

"I'm sorry for breaking the rules," you genuinely mean it; you know how important this control is for him, but you can't help it, "I'll submit again if you just tell me why you won't fuck me. Do you...do you not want me? Is that it? 'Cause I can accept that, I just want to hear you say it. I'm sick of not knowing."

He stares at you incredulously, hand coming up to squeeze the space between his brow and nose, "Jesus, of course I want you, but it's not that simple."

"Yes it-"

"It's not," he interrupts you, shaking his head, "I can't...this isn't..." he exhales deeply, "This isn't the time for this conversation, okay?" You hear raw emotion in his voice, buried deep but still present. Fuck, you didn't mean to make him feel bad.

"...Okay," you finally whisper, "I'm sorry."

"S'okay," he runs a hand through his hair, "Look, we can stop-"

"No," you lean back and open your legs wide again, putting yourself on display for him, "No, I wanna be your good girl again, please let me."

"We don't-"

"Joel," you whimper, slipping your fingers back inside, "Let me be your good girl."

His hard expression fades, eyes softening as he peers at you, watching you fuck himself for him.

"It's all yours, even if you won't touch me," you whisper, using your other hand to pull yourself open for him, showing him how full you are, feeling your orgasm start to build in your tummy, "It's yours," you repeat, whimpering.

He nods, stroking himself again hard and fast, brow furrowing in pleasure as he keeps his eyes trained on you, "That's right," he murmurs, "It's mine. You're mine."

You close your eyes tight, "I'm gonna come."

"Go ahead, pretty girl," you hear him groan, the snap of his wrist making you completely come undone, "Squeeze around those fingers, pretend they're mine, okay? You can do that, you can pretend."

You shudder at his words and feel your orgasm overtake you, the image of Joel's thick fingers pounding into you enough to send you over the edge. You moan loudly, crying out his name and tossing your head back as you come.

"Good girl," he groans, voice strangled, "Such a good fucking girl for me."

You close your eyes as you ride out the waves of your release, fingers still pumping gently inside of you until it's too much and you pull them out. Sighing contentedly, you open your eyes again and watch Joel relentlessly fuck into his fist, belt buckle still jangling against the couch as he gasps. You want nothing more than to reach forward and take him in your own hand, help him ride out his own release, but you don't. Because those are the rules.

Instead you just watch him, smile at him as he shuts his eyes tight and groans deeply, coming into his fist. You watch the thick white liquid cover the sides of his fingers and you involuntarily salivate, jaw going slack.

"Fuck," you breathe, "Wish I could taste you."

He groans again, hand stilling as he breathes heavily and starts to come down, eyes closed. You sit quietly, panties still hanging off one of your ankles. You'd usually already be putting your clothes back on at this point, but something tells you to stay still, don't move, he's gonna do something different.

He swallows and looks up at you, stares at you for a few moments. You're unsure whether the regular Joel is about to come back, tell you it's time to go back on patrol, grab your gun and be quiet. Or is this still your Joel, the one who tells you you're pretty and good, makes you feel less alone in this shitty world.

"Here," he says, shaking his head and bringing his come-coated fingers up to your mouth, "If you wanna taste, you have five seconds."

Your mouth pops open in surprise, hesitating only for a second before you lean forward and wrap your lips around his fingers, feeling the salty taste of him flood your mouth. Your cunt begins to throb again, your eyes closing as you suck and lick and take everything he's giving you. When you open your eyes again he's still looking at you, but his expression is soft, tender.

It was a warm spring day, you were sat in the garden with a beer in your hand; across from you was your dad and his best friend, Joel Miller. Joel was almost a permanent fixture around your house now, he had been in your life for years and it was near impossible to imagine life without him, or how life was before him. 

He was a handsome man, close to your father’s age and admittedly, you had quite the crush on him and had done for a few years. Of course you hadn’t acted on it, you didn’t want to upset your dad or ruin anything in your life but then there were the lonely nights that you spent alone, your fingers rubbing at your clit frustratedly, never managing to finish, as you imagined the older man taking your virginity. You knew it was wrong but it didn’t stop you from fantasising, only now, it seemed to happen more frequently. 

You smiled as you sipped your beer, your mind wandering as your father and Joel were in deep conversations; occasionally you would throw in a laugh or reply to something either of them said but for the most part, you just enjoyed soaking up their conversations and the late evening sunset. 

You weren’t really sure how you had got to your age and hadn’t slept with anyone yet and part of you felt shame that you hadn’t, thanks to the throwaway comments from your friends or the way the media portrayed casual sex. You felt inexperienced and the longer you went without it, the feeling of shame and nerves only seemed to grow, you cursed society and your friends for making you feel that way. You had boyfriends previously but the time never felt right for you, and for that, you were proud of your morals and how you stuck to them. A lot of the time, when you didn’t put out for a partner, they left you and it was frustrating, and more importantly, hurtful. Still, no one ever felt right, no one ever seemed to compare to Joel in your mind. 

The sun had fully set by now, your dad and Joel were still arguing back and forth about something trivial and you laughed fondly as you watched them two of them. You had gone inside and to get a blanket which was now wrapped around your shoulders, the chill of the evening not effecting you. 

“Sweetpea, I’m gonna head inside and get some rest. Thank you for a lovely day and night.” Your dad spoke to you, fully addressing you. You smiled into his side as he gave you a brief hug and kissed the top of your head. 

“You okay to see yourself out? You’re more than welcome to stay the night. Y/N can setup the pullout for you!” Your dad offered to Joel. 

“I’ll finish up my beer and see how I feel after, thanks bud. I’ll see you in a couple days, at the bar, if I don’t end up staying. Thanks again.” Joel spoke, his deep voice sending a shiver down your spine. 

“Don’t catch a cold.” Your dad said, peering down at you when he felt you shiver. “I love you, sweetheart.” 

“I love ya too, dad. I’m fine. Goodnight.” You called to him as he closed the patio door behind him. 

A silence fell between the two of you, you placed your bottle onto the garden table and looked up to the sky, stars were slowly starting to twinkle in the evening’s dusk and you sighed. 

“What’s up, princess?” Joel asked, he often called you various pet names but that one always hit differently. 

“What does sex feel like?” You asked nonchalantly. 

Joel spluttered on his mouthful of beer and placed it down, clearing his throat. “Has your daddy not had the chat with you?”

“Well duh, of course he has but he hasn’t exactly told me what it feels like.” You huffed frustratedly, now looking at Joel. 

“I uh, I don’t know how to answer that question, really.” Joel admitted quietly. “Have you, uh, have you not?” His question tailed off as you shook your head in response. 

“Nope.” You hugged again, wrapping the blanket tighter round you. “Can’t even manage to cum when I touch myself either.” 

Joel shifted in his seat, somewhere in his mind he pictured you laid out on your bed, your fingers buried deep in yourself with a frown as you tried to work yourself to release. He pushed those thoughts deep down and shook his head. 

“Well it’s different for guys, princess. A lot easier.” He shrugged, hoping you would drop the conversation. 

“Yeah but you’ve obviously had sex with women!” You said casually. 

“Obviously.” Joel retorted. 

“Exactly, so like, you know how to make them cum unless, Joel Miller, you’re openly admitting you don’t know how to please a woman.” You laughed. 

“I know how to please a woman!” He defended. “Plenty of women, and I ain’t ever had complaints.” 

“Show me.”

It was a throwaway comment, the beers you had consumed flowed through your veins and made your lips a little looser than normal. Before you had registered it fully, the words had fallen from your mouth. 

“I’m sorry?! What?!” Joel asked, his voice a raised whisper. 

“S-show me… I want my first time to matter, Joel. I want it to be with someone who knows me and cares about me. You care about me, right?” You asked, getting out of your seat and sitting into Joel’s lap, your blanket discarded. 

“Princess. I can’t… I… it wouldn’t be right…” He mumbled, sounding like he was trying to convince himself more than anything. “Your daddy would kill us both.”

“I’ll be quiet, please Joel… I’m desperate. Please.” You begged, your voice high and whiny. “I’ve seen the way you watch me, your eyes follow me around like a lost puppy. Especially when I wear little dresses. I’ve noticed it and I’m telling you right now, I feel the same.”

Before Joel could argue again, you dipped your head down and closed the space between your faces to place and innocent kiss to the male’s lips. As soon as you made contact you moaned softly into it; his lips were soft against his rough facial hair and it made you wetter than you could have imagined before. 

Joel held his hands up innocently, unsure whether he should indulge in this moment or not but there you were, sitting in his lap needy and innocent, quite literally begging for him. Cautiously he began to kiss you back, one hand came up to hold your cheek and the other held your knee gently. He commanded the kiss, tilting your head to the right angle as he dipped his tongue into your mouth to explore you further. He could taste the beer on your breath and the faint cherry of your chapstick, it drove him mad and he wanted more. 

“You’re gonna kill me.” He whispered almost silently. “Are you sure you want this? You won’t be able to have your first time again, are you sure you wanna waste it on me?” 

“Joel,” you stopped him from rambling further. “Anytime I’ve touched myself I’ve imagined it was you, I want you so badly. Please show me how to do it.” You whined. 

Joel’s hand tensed gently on your knee, the fact that he was the star in your late-night thoughts made him wanna take you right there and then. 

“Inside. We need to go inside, I’m not fuckin’ you on the table. Not for your first time, anyway.” Joel teased with a wink. “You’re gon’ have to be real quiet for me though, little girl.”

You stood from Joel’s lap and nodded eagerly. “Of course I’ll be quiet, scouts honour.” 

Joel laughed, a short breathless noise and followed behind you as you led him inside and upstairs to your room. 

As soon as you quietly clicked your door shut, the tension seemed to fill the room once more and you stood awkwardly by the bed. 

“Come sit, relax, princess.” Joel said quietly, his voice soft and hushed. 

He sat on the foot of your bed and gently tapped the space next to him, you happily obliged and sat down next to him. You looked up at him and swallowed roughly. 

“You nervous?” He asked gently and you nodded in response. “That’s fair enough, I promise I’ll be real gentle with you, darlin’ and if you wanna stop at any point, you tell me and we stop. This is all on your terms, okay?” He asked tenderly, brushing your hair out of your face to cup your cheek. 

You leant forward and caught Joel’s lips in a quick kiss. “I — what do we do now?” You asked. 

“What have you done before? Have you ever touched a guy before?” Joel asked and you shook your head to say no. “So you’ve never touched a guy’s cock before?”

“N-no!” You replied, almost ludicrously. “A guy tried to make me once but I left in tears and that was that.” You admittedly quietly and Joel stroked his thumb tenderly across your bottom lip. 

“Okay, well that’s not going to happen here. I’ve got you now. Okay?” He asked. 

“Okay.”

“Let’s start by getting you out of your clothes and comfortable on the bed, is that alright?” Joel asked. 

You nodded again, not trusting your voice as Joel removed his hand from your face to gently pull your t-shirt over your head. He then worked on your jeans, he unbuttoned them and you stood to shimmy them off your legs, you stood there a little awkwardly as Joel took in your form and admired your body. 

“Look at you.” He breathed, his rough hands smoothed over your sides and cupped your ass gently. 

You let out a quiet giggle as your cheeks flushed a light pink in embarrassment; no one had ever complimented your body before. 

“J-Joel, can I see you now?” You whispered, your voice shaking with pure anticipation. 

He smiled at you and gave a simple nod before he pulled his grey T-shirt over his head and pulled down his jeans before discarding them with your clothes. Your eyes roamed the expanse of tanned skin, hair peppered his chest lightly and a dark trail led down to his boxers where you could clearly see his half-hard cock. You had dreamt about his moment, being able to see Joel in such a state and it made your privates throb with need. 

“Why don’t you lay back and show me how you touch yourself, pretty girl.” Joel said smoothly, sitting down next to you on the bed again. “I can help from there.”

“Okay…” you muttered, quickly standing to shed your damp panties before you got onto your bed and laid down so your back was resting against your pillows. 

Joel shifted so he was positioned next to you, he was laid on his side and he watched eagerly as you let your thighs drop and you spread yourself further for him to see. He held back a groan as he watched your fingers dip between your wet folds as you began to circle your clit. You let out a high-pitched moan before you clamped your teeth into your bottom lip to silence yourself from making another sound. 

You screwed your eyes shut and your brows furrowed together as you rubbed at your clit harshly, trying to bring yourself closer to orgasming but never quite getting there. 

“Woah they’re darlin’, slow it down a notch… or ten.” He chuckled quietly, his hand coming to rest on top of yours to slow your movements down with ease. 

“Do it for me.” You huffed, opening your eyes to search for Joel’s. “Please.” You whined. 

Joel took your hand in his and brought your slicked fingers up to his mouth, he sucked them eagerly and moaned softly as your arousal flooded his mouth. Your eyes shot open widely, shock flooding them and you throbbed as you watched him. You rubbed your thighs together and whimpered weakly. 

“Sh sh shh, darlin’.” Joel cooed when he released your fingers from your mouth. 

He gently pried your thighs apart with his hand, your own fell to the side of you and your fingers toyed nervously with the sheets below you. 

“I’m gonna touch you, princess but you’re gonna have to be real quiet and you’re gonna need to relax for me.” Joel instructed sternly but his voice was edged with softness. 

You looked at his face and bit on your bottom lip, nodding your head in agreement. Joel ran his fingers through your wet slit and he bit back a groan at how wet you were already, so receptive and needy for him to touch you. You shifted under his touch, it felt so different to your own fingers or when you would hump at your pillows in frustration. His skilled fingers found your clit quickly and he circled the sensitive bud with delicious pressure, you bit back a loud moan and looked at Joel with mild confusion at how it could feel so good so quickly.

“Feel good?” Joel asked quietly, his breath fanned gently over your lips. 

“S-so so good!” You whimpered, your voice shaking as Joel worked his fingers perfectly over your clit. 

“Is it okay if I finger you? You wanna see how it feels to have my fingers in you? I’ll be really gentle, princess.” 

You nodded eagerly, not trusting your shaky voice to form a proper sentence. Before you had time to fully register it, Joel was gently pressing a finger into your tight hole, there was slight resistance as your wet heat stretched around his thick digit. You mewled quietly, the noise partly out of pain but mostly pleasure. 

“Shhh, I know, baby girl. I know. You’ve got this.” He whispered, kissing your cheek and your neck, trying to distract you from any discomfort as Joel’s palm met your body. “I’m gonna move my finger now.” He whispered and your body fluttered with adoration as he talked you through what he was going to do next. 

Just as he said, Joel pulled his finger out and gently pushed it back into you. He felt almost alien as he worked his finger in and out of your tight hole, he felt amazing and somewhere in your mind, you thought how you always wanted Joel in you. His thumb gently circled your clit and whilst you were distracted with the intense pleasure, he gently pushed a second finger into you, stretching you further and your eyes balled shut instantly. 

“Baby girl, you gotta relax for me. That’s it, atta girl, doing such a good job. I know, I know.” He cooed, his voice was so soft and it sent shivers down your spine as his thumb still circled your clit whilst his fingers scissored you open. 

“Feels…” you whined. “Feels so good!” You whispered, your eyes opening to look at Joel. “Please kiss me.” You asked tenderly. 

He obliged happily and his lips pressed to yours in a passionate kiss, his tongue invaded your mouth and you laid there as you took all he had to offer you. His fingers moved in you with ease now as you adjusted to the foreign stretch and somewhere in the depth of your belly, something bubbled and grew deeper. You had come this close before but never managed to get yourself over the edge. You moaned into Joel’s mouth, a little too loudly as he quicken his pace. 

“Fuck Joel,” you cursed against his lips as you panted, your chest heaved in your bra. 

Joel smirked, using his spare hand to free one of your breasts from your bra and he sucked your nipple into his mouth; his teeth nipped gently at it before he sucked on it a little harsher causing your back to arch up to him. 

“Something feels weird.” You mumbled, your voice was a quiet gasp. “Feels like I need to pee or something.” 

You felt embarrassed, not sure what was happening, usually when you got this far you would stop and go use the bathroom before coming back and trying again to make yourself cum but it never happened. 

“Mhmm, means you’re close. Means you’re gonna cum on my fingers.” Joel whispered, his breath fanned out onto your damp nipple and it caused a shiver to run down your spine. “That’s it, cum for me, please, princess.” Joel pleaded. 

Your thighs shuddered at his words, your hips spasmed upwards and you brought your hand to your mouth to keep yourself quiet as you felt yourself get slicker and cum around Joel’s fingers, your walls fluttered around his fingers and he praised you quietly, his mouth back near your neck. 

Joel pulled his fingers out of you and you grimaced at the lack of being full. He teasingly ran his fingers through your soaked folds and he groaned softly into your ear. 

“You’re so wet, you came so hard for me. Such a good girl. Was that your first time? You never managed to do that?” Joel whispered his praises. 

“Mhm, n-never managed to do that. Felt so good.” 

“Now imagine how good my cock would feel… you think you’re ready for that, little girl?” 

“Please.” You breathed, your hand shakily reaching for Joel’s hard member in his boxers. Your hand delicately palmed him through the thin fabric and you gasped at the feeling of him, he felt impossibly big compared to his fingers and your tummy fluttered with nerves and deep arousal. “You’re so… big!” 

Joel laughed and switched his position on the bed so he was situated between your thighs. “Promise to be so gentle with you.” He whispered, awkwardly shifting out of his boxers so he was finally fully naked. 

Your hands hungrily roamed the vast expanse of Joel’s skin and you hummed in appreciation, the moment you had dreamt of so many times was finally here and you couldn’t quite believe it. 

“Fuck me, please. Just do it already, I’m so turned on I’m shaking.” You whispered, making sure your voice was a hushed tone and it was true, your limbs shook with the anticipation of what was to come and you were shivering under Joel’s gaze. 

You had discarded your bra and laid there fully naked for him, he brushed his cock head against your clit and you let out a loud gasp, the different sensation taking you by surprise. Joel looked at you and cocked an eyebrow as warning and you nodded, taking the hint and bit on your bottom lip. 

“You have to stay quiet otherwise your daddy is gonna hear you being such a good girl for me and I know you don’t want him to see how needy you are for his best friend’s cock.”

He took his length and gently, so incredibly gently pressed the tip of himself into your hole. You bit down harder on your lip and your fingers scratched at Joel’s shoulders, trying to anchor yourself to him as he inserted himself slowly into you. 

Your nails left harsh crescent moon shapes into the skin on Joel’s shoulders as he bottomed out inside of you, you stretched around him and he held your cheek tenderly as you adjusted around his thick member. 

“I know baby girl, I know. Shh, such a good girl. That’s it, so good for me.” He whispered, his sweet praises sending a delicious shiver down your spine and straight to your core. You turned your head and pressed a kiss to his hand as the sting of the stretch finally started to wear off. 

“You can move now…” You muttered softly. 

Joel nodded and his hand left your face to hold your hips tightly as he pulled his hips back and sensually rolled them forward to push back into you. You whimpered, the noise was loud and it echoed into your room. Joel tutted and one of his hands clamped gently over your mouth, he squeezed your face gently as he built up a steady pace. 

His cock fucked into you, he managed to roll his hips just right and soon enough we was hitting the soft spot inside your spongy walls that had you moaning pathetically under Joel’s palm, the noises were drowned out as his hand squeezed over your mouth harder. 

“Touch your pretty little clit for me, princess. I want you to feel how good it is to cum on a cock. On my cock.” Joel groaned as your greedy hole sucked him in deeper and harder. 

You took Joel’s instructions and two fingers circled around your clit, you took onboard what Joel said earlier about going slower and it worked wonders, your eyes rolled back into your head as your stomach knotted tightly like a coiled spring. Your mouth opened under Joel’s palm and as you were about to speak, Joel stalled his hips. He was buried deep in you and instead of pulling back to push back into you, he rolled his hips so the tip of his cock nudged into you deeper than before. Your eyes fluttered shut, your fingers sped up and Joel took the chance to finally push back into you roughly. That perfectly timed dance had you cumming around Joel’s cock, the spring in your stomach snapped and you fell apart at the seams as Joel fucked you rougher. 

You whimpered as the overstimulation kicked in and Joel took you for his own, he fucked into you quicker than before and you laid there taking everything he had.  

“Where do you want me to cum, princess?” Joel asked. 

“M-mouth.” You shuddered out.

“Naughty girl.” He chuckled lowly and pulled out of you, you winced at the feeling, already knowing you would feel sore tomorrow. 

Joel positioned himself on the bed, knelt beside you as you sat up and timidly reached your hand up to wrap around his length. You gave a few testing stroke and he nodded down at you, encouraging you to move your hand faster. You did exactly that, your fingers worked nimbly around him as you stroked him to orgasm. You opened your mouth eagerly, your tongue sticking out and you made a small noise as the first spurt of his hot cum landed on your tongue. 

“Good girl, that’s it. Fuck you’re gonna kill me, look up at me with my cum on your tongue. That’s it.” He groaned, his voice low and sultry as your eyes locked with him. 

You couldn’t help but smile as you swallowed down every drop Joel had to give you. Your tongue licked at your lips as Joel swiped his tongue across your cheek. 

“Fucking hell, princess.” He huffed, collapsing onto the bed next to you. 

You couldn’t help but giggle and you rolled over to look at the older male. “Thank you, Joel. I really appreciate it.”

“No need to thank me. Thank you, for trusting me with your first time.” He looked down at you, his hand reaching out to tenderly touch your cheek as he captured your lips in a soft kiss. 

You smiled into the kiss as your fingers tickled through the hair on his chest absently. 

“Never wanna stop feeling this good.” You hummed. “You wanna stay here with me for a bit? Please?” You asked shyly as if you hadn’t just had the male in you moments ago. 

“Okay princess, just till you fall asleep. Don’t wanna have to explain that one to your daddy.” He laughed softly and kissed your forehead once as your eyes fluttered shut for the night. 

———————————————

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thanks for the requests, my inbox is always open for new ideas and I love chatting with y’all so much <3

“Stealing” things that didn't belong to the people who had stolen them in the first place. They didn't belong to the white, rich old men the prowled the upper parts of New York.

They didn't belong to the thugs and gangs in Hell's Kitchen either.

They belonged to you.

It was a waiting game, finding the right time to swoop in from your spot on the rooftops to scurry down and collect the goods. But it was one you were willing to play. You had played many games since your time on the streets in the twilight hours, like cat and mouse.

Matt Murdock and Peter Parker were crawling on you like spiders, and you had run into them more times than you could count. As fast as they appeared, you had fled.

They had no idea who you were, but you had made headlines. The thief in the night. The media didn't know anything. They liked to spin and twist lies for their own benefit, so that things would sell and people would become frightened.

What they didn't know- is that you only stole from people who deserved it.

Your own version of justice.

And right now, the men you were watching from the alleyway deserved it. You had been watching the Pirus gang now for days, hiding behind old warehouse containers and perching yourself upon balconies and ledges to spy upon them and their dirty deeds that made your own hands feel greasy with grime.

They had something that belonged to you. You had noted the 18k gold ring getting pocketed between them, a ring that had been gifted to your mother before she had passed.

You didn't care about the imaginary price tag that was attached to it, like these crooks did. You didn’t care you could sell it and easily make a hundred thousand dollars, waving goodbye to student debt and mortgage rates. You just cared that it was in a safe, and valuable place.

Tucked away in the little vintage jewelry box she had gifted you before she took her final breaths on that old, creaking bed.

A growl ripped through your throat as you saw them flip it up like a coin, hearing their mutters about ‘thank god the bitch is dead’. They were just a leap away. With a push, you could jump down upon the pavement, ripping them to shreds with your claws.

You had been patient enough, a clock ticking in your head with each second that had passed where the ring wasn't in your possession.

The ring was an easy target, and you shifted your weight stealthy to propel your body forward.

It was all coming together. It was easy.

Almost too easy.

As you guided yourself, eye on the prize- a sharp jerk yanked you back. The breath was stolen from your lungs, your scream muffled as a hand was placed across your mouth.

“Shhhh. Not a word.” the low voice murmured in your ear, his warm breath making the hairs on your neck rise with anxiety as you struggled against his chokehold grip he held on you against his large, solid body.

You were brought back in through the large warehouse window you had so stupidly turned your back on, too focused on the activities below to realize what was going on behind you.

Who was behind you, for that matter. You twisted your foot to step on his own, but he avoided it, clearly trained in combat as he fought back against your contained fight.

“Don’t make this harder for yourself sweetheart.” he growled, twisting you around to smash your body against the cold brick, the wind knocked out of you, too stunned to cry for help as he tossed you like a rag doll.

A black bandanna covered his eyes, toned body was hidden under the same black fabric, blood smeared across his cracked knuckles. You searched him for some recognition of who he was, but you were too dazed from the sudden assault, heartbeat racing too loud in your ears from adrenaline to think clearly enough.

“She's got fight in her man.” the mystery man smirked, as if you were a wild animal in a cage, desperate to get free.

Shivers broke out across your skin from under the leather as shocks went through your whole body, white, sticky webs clinging you to the wall like a mouse in a trap.

Then it clicked. Oh. Fuck.

“Oh you fuckers.”

A second body hung from the ceiling, emerging from the darkness into the dingy warehouse lighting, attached to a web as he waved at you from upside down.

“Well hello there!” he said cheerfully as if the three of you were all buddy-buddy and this was an everyday event.

“Was that a goddamn Star Wars reference?” you huffed, wanting to strangle the both of them.

“Yes. Maybe. Maybe yes.” He dropped from the ceiling, bouncing on his heels as he looked at you with interest through his mask, head tilted with curiosity.

“You need to slow your heartbeat. Calm down.” the masked man murmured lowly, listening to the increasing speed of its thumps as he neared you. It was then your vision cleared, and you could get a good look at them in the dimmed lighting.

Matt and Peter. 

“I would be calm, if I wasn't webbed to a fucking wall right now.” you sang sweetly, making him smirk.

“It's for your own good.”

“Well technically, it’s for our own good because if she weren't bound she’d be clawing our faces off right now.” Peter noted, his voice fading in the distance as he found some random old chairs that were scattered in the corner.

“Peter’s right ya know.” you played along,  the dragging of the chair's feet against the stone floor coming to an abrupt halt.

“You know my name?”

“Well duh. I’m not stupid, no matter how much you and Mr. Matthew over here may think I am.” You couldn't keep the sly smirk off your face, knowing you had them right where you wanted them.

You couldn't defeat them, and you knew the gang had most likely scrambled by now, along with your ring- but you could keep them talking.

“It's nice for us to finally be acquainted again.” Matt sighed, watching as Peter brought up the chair, plopping himself in one directly in front of you. As if you were a circus act, or the hottest new movie in the box office.

You huffed, not meeting his eyes as Peter curled his feet under him, sitting crisscross in the old, rusting chair. “What is this a therapy session?”

“Does it need to be? Tell me, my darling- how is your relationship with your father?” Peter asked mockingly, making you hiss out in response.

“Alright, alright enough. We just want to talk to you…”

“I’m not giving you my name.” you replied sharply, slightly struggling against the webs, having no luck of them weakening.

“How is that remotely fair?” Peter scoffed.

“Peter- enough. Fine, be that way. As I said, we just want to talk.” Matt exclaimed, cracking his knuckles as his head tilted to listen, surveying the nearby area with his ears.

“I think they left.” you murmured, and he nodded in response, mouth drawn into a hard line. “They left cause you scared them off with all your thrashing. Settle down woman, the webs won't break that easily.”  Peter hinted, watching in amusement as you finally gave up, putting your head down in defeat.

“I hate you.” you murmured softly, quiet as a pin drop as you stared down at the cold concrete.

“Yeah, yeah tell us something we don't know.” Matt sighed, your eyes flickering back up to look at Peter, his legs still crossed in an almost childish manner as he leaned his head in his hands- appearing bored.

“Let's get this over and done with. What do you want to talk about?” you asked, already knowing the answer.

They were going to threaten you- obviously, or they'd try and talk you over with their magical words of wisdom, about how being ‘good’ was better than whatever the fuck you were doing. You didn’t care for it.

But you knew they wouldn't let you go until they said what they had to say.

You fought the urge to shiver, a cold breeze filtering through the broken windows, seething to chill your bones. Your nipples hardened, and you swore Matt’s head tilted slightly, a smirk dotting his face.

“You. Helping us.” Peter retorted, and before you could stop it, you laughed.

You laughed and laughed and laughed because what the fuck? That was the last thing you had expected them to say, his words seeming like an inside joke you weren’t involved with.

The cold had now disappeared, replaced with a warmth and bubbliness that pooled in the pit of your stomach.

“What?” was all you could gasp out, your sides hurting from the continuous laughter that poured out of you. You laughed partly because yes- it was funny, but also because you were confused and anxious. Not that they needed to know that of course.

“We need your help taking on Kingpin.”

There it was.

The laughter stopped. That name had left you scarred, your insides shriveling up at the whispers of memories that trickled through your brain.

“I don’t get involved with him.” you stated, voice hardened like cracked sugar. The air was sucked out of the room, and you saw fear and darkness slither across the brick.

“I know you don’t. That's why we’re now asking you to get involved with him, with us. We need another hand to play in his card game.”

“I don’t. Get. Involved.” you hissed, drawing out each symbol as if they were illiterate. Which they must have been. They must have been borderline stupid to think you would help them, with Kingpin nonetheless.

He was way out of your territory, and there were even lines you didn't cross once they were drawn.

“We’ll help you get your mother's things back.” Peter said cooly from his side of the room. Your head whipped towards him, eyes wide.

Maybe you didn't have the upper hand afterall.

“I don’t need your help.” Peter snorted, hand extending to the broken window, the one you had been perched out of a few minutes prior.

“Yeah. I’m sure.” he said sarcastically. “I had it under control, until you two showed up and ruined it.” you snarled.

“We saved you. They had multiple firearms on them, and you were severely outnumbered. The second you dropped, you would have been shot on the spot, too many bullets to stand a chance.” Matt replied to your outburst coolly. “But you wouldn't have known that, would you? They were tucked away, in their boots and under their jackets. Because if you did know, you would have been openly committing suicide, and that seems unlike you since theres jobs that still need to be done.”

You were silent. They had you in their webs. Quite literally, at that.

“I don’t have much of a choice, do I?”

“You always have a choice.” Matt replied softly, his demeanor seeming to change. Almost as if... as if he felt bad for you. As if he could see right through you, could feel the pain and sorrow in your heart that ripped and clawed at you daily, could feel the loneliness and anguish that haunted you.

Maybe he didn't have many choices in his lifetime.

His words were nearly comforting, but you knew they were one-sided. You did have a choice, but if you didn’t accept their offer- things wouldn't turn out good. Not that they would working with them anyways.

But what ‘choice’ did you really have?

“Fine. When do we start?” 

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

“It’s fucking cold.” you groaned, the air around you seeming brisker with each passing second. New York never seemed to be warm, the skin-tight suit plastered to you not helping the cause.

It was lightweight and stretchy, its fabric perfect for fighting and climbing- but it provided next to no warmth.

The sirens shrieked as they passed by under you, the city lights illuminating the two men next to you as you sat perched on the roof.

It had been a few weeks since the webbing incident, and you now waited- bored out of your mind for an instruction. It was unlike you to listen and not lead, but you wanted to see how the dice would roll.

You crouched low, the concrete block rough and bitter to the touch as you knelt at Peter’s level.

“It’s not cold. You’re just being a pussy.” Peter drawled, the wind whipping through his messy locks as he looked down, taking in the bustling traffic below.

The cars were all fancy here, all Porches and Bentleys on this side of town. It made you feel out of sorts, and uncomfortable in your skin.

“Did you just call me a pussy?”

“He meant it romantically.” Matt replied, your eyes meeting his sharp jawline as he sourced out the area from the other side of you.

“I did not.” he scoffed, a blush burning on his cheeks as he turned away, suddenly very interested with the stone ledge.

“Yeah, yeah whatever. When are we moving in?” you asked impatiently, rocking on the balls of your feet anxiously. It felt like you had been sitting up here forever, despite meeting them back near Hell's Kitchen over half an hour ago.

So in reality, you had really only been sitting here for a good twenty minutes. Yet, it dragged on.

Where was the action? The fighting? You were sick of waiting.

“Don’t even think of moving in without my signal.” Matt stated, sensing your anticipation as you sighed.

“What are we even waiting for?!”

“For them to take their fighting somewhere else.” Peter snorted, obviously as anxious to get going as you were, but it appeared he was more collected. He had been working with Matt a lot longer than you had, and you hoped to keep it that way.

You watched as Matt listened closely, obviously aware of the conversation that was appearing behind the glass in front of you. The two men were tall and build, almost double the size of you. Anger was written across their faces, buried in the creases of their foreheads as they yelled, hands frantically moving. Their black suits were wrinkled, blood dotting one's forehead as if a fight had occurred before this one.

You tilted your head, curious.

Were they not on the same side? Were they not both fighting for Fisk, defending him?

“They seem pretty angry for people who appear to be on the same side.” you hinted, trying to think of reasons they could possibly be so mad.

“You’d be surprised how competitive his men can get, when he's angry the way has been lately.” Peter stated, looking to Matt for instruction as a gun was cocked, hands going up in surrender.

“Should we intervene?”

Matt just shook his head.

“Let it play out.” was all he said. You despised how calm and collected he was about this. Part of you wanted him to be rash, so you could save him and yell at him for how stupid he was. But that wasn't his style, and you knew it never had been. He and Peter waited in the shadows, counting down the minutes until it was right to strike.

Suddenly another man appeared from the hallway, breaking up the fight. They left the room, and you felt your body instinctively moving forward, ready to leap, though you couldn’t reach.

“The documents Peter and I need are in the office across from that one, in a safe behind the painting behind the desks. All the offices look the same, it's an industrial office. You’re in charge of making sure no one comes up on this floor.”

“So what I’m on watch duty? You brought me along so I could protect you guys while you play capture the flag?” you scoffed. Seeing as to how they quite literally webbed you to a wall, asking for your help- you figured it’d be for something much cooler than this.

“For now.” was all he said, a tone in his voice indicating something else was on the table for a later date. “I don’t really have a choice in this.”

“You always have a choice.” he repeated, words echoing those at the warehouse.

“I’m going to fucking punch you.”

A laugh escaped Peter and he was quick to cover it with a slap to the mouth as he watched the stand down you had with Matt. Nothing was coming out of this, and you weren't expecting it to. But it was still fun to try and bother him anyways.

Nothing seemed to get under his skin, which irked you even more. He was the water to your fire, the voice of reasoning. Fuck his reasoning.

“Punch me and I’m telling you right now things will not end in your favor.” Matt snarled, hand grabbing your wrist as you raised it.

“I’ll take my chances.” you hissed back, hair raising on your arms like a cat’s from under your suit.

“Go.” he commanded sternly. “What?”

“Go. The floor is clear, for now. Peter’s taking you over.”

“Wha-” Before you could beg to differ, confused about what the man meant, you felt an arm wrap around your middle. Matt's grip released from your wrist, yet you could still feel the warmth of his skin against yours, the area where his fingers brushed you starting to tingle.

The wind rushed in your ears as Peter grabbed you, a web shooting from his wrist as he swung you off your feet. It took everything in you not to scream, the movement so quick and sudden you felt your lungs come out through your ribcage. You were soaring through the air, Peter's grip tightening on you as you watched the world blaze by in a blend of colours from under you, coming to a standstill as he stuck to the side of Fisks building.

You looked over to where you once were, finding it empty. Matt had already disappeared, not a whisper or a trace that he had ever been there remaining.

“I think I’m going to be sick.” you whispered, looking down and regretting it immensely.

“I thought you liked high places? Don’t all cats?”

“Not this high.” you whimpered, willing for him to pry open the window quicker than he was currently. Although you gave him credit, he was doing it one-handed after all.

“Just don’t look down. That's what I did before I got used to it.” he shrugged, and you clung to him tighter, breathing in the cologne he wore through his suit. It was nice, you realized, sort of hating yourself for liking it as much as you did.

All of a sudden the two of you were much too close, the air becoming hot and saccharine despite being almost twenty stories high, the wind whipping through your hair wildly.

He let out a small grunt as you heard the window click open, the glass freeing enough space for you to wedge your body through.

“This is the storage room, down the hall from the office we’ll be at. Stay close.” he instructed, and you scrambled to grip onto the window ledge. “And don't let yarn be a distraction.” he added teasingly, darting away before you could let out a sly remark in return.

“Asshole” you muttered to yourself, slowly and quietly shutting the window behind you. You had landed upon a shelf, filled with cleaning supplies. The smell of chemicals burned, your nose twitching with disgust as you took in your surroundings.

It was quiet in here, minus the gentle hum of the air vents. Dark as the night outside, you were stealthy and careful not to knock anything over as you leaped to the floor, the hard tile cold under your hands.

Mops, buckets, vacuums and brooms all were dotted against the walls, cleaning chemicals so advanced you didn't even know if you could pronounce them. Sometimes you forgot how much money this man really had. It seemed unimaginable.

Kingpin could probably buy the entire city if he wanted, in all honesty. You were rather confused why he hadn't yet, since that always seemed to be his endgame. Changing the city. Changing the way people lived, changing the way the economy ran to better suit his needs.

All this change that didn’t need to happen. He could change his shitty attitude, or even the paint colour in here. You thought with a sigh, dusting your hands off as you rose to your full height, on high alert as your hand reached for the door handle.

It was quiet outside. Too quiet.

You held your breath, feeling your lungs tighten as you slid beside the door. Your back was to the wall, heartbeat thumping in your chest as you heard a voice call from the end of the hallway, turning the corner.

Waiting wasn't something you were very good at, but you knew you had to time this right. The whole mission- and your life, depended on it. Just as his foot hit the hardwood in front of your hidden alcove, you swung the door open, arm reaching around his throat.

A meer gasp escaped him as you pounced on him, dragging him into the cleaning closet with you. His arm went back to hit you with his gun, but you had wrapped around him like a koala bear- his arms unable to you. His gun clattered to the ground as you kicked it, squeezing your arm around his airways even tighter as he fell back against a shelf.

You winced as the pain shot up your arm as he slammed you back against the wooden ledges, cleaning supplies rattling in the struggle.

“Can you pass out quieter?!” you hissed, feeling his grip lack as he slipped into unconsciousness. You jumped off of him as he thudded down to the ground, limbs spread out as his breathing steadied.

You sighed, dusting off your suit again with the quick bush of your hands. He had got dirt on you- the bastard. Grabbing underneath his armpits, you attempted to trudge the large, beefy man to sit against the shelf.

If he was going to be unconscious, he might as well ruin his posture in the process. It seemed like a fair trade, seeming as he almost pointed a gun at you and smacked your shoulders hard enough to see little black spots dot across your vision.

He would be out cold for a while, hopefully, long enough for your little boy scout duo to get their shit and scramble. You watched as he slouched over, proud of your handiwork. You were lucky he wasn't as large as the other guards you had seen, or else you weren't so sure your strategy would work.

Remembering you had a job to do, you slipped back over to the closed door, poking your head out slightly as you heard the ever so slight creak of a window close from the office down the hall.

Good. They got in.

You were scared to breathe, scared the rush of air whooshing through your trachea would set off some sort of alarm or trigger. It was like walking on pins and needles. The air seemed tighter here, stuffy as it weighed down on you. It was almost an unfamiliar presence was lurking nearby, someone you had seen in a nightmare once before, but had convinced yourself they weren't real.

Shivering, you tried your best to ignore it, slipping off behind the corner- somewhere you knew the cameras wouldn't be able to see you. Peter had already mapped out the floor plan earlier- his long, elegant fingers gliding over the page, his words tuning out slightly as you felt warmth spread through you the longer you watched his fingers point and tap.

You thought of them now as you watched the empty hallways, knowing they were probably gliding across the ridges of the mahogany desk as he waited for Matthew to finish his task.

They brushed against you now as you felt the hairs on the back of your neck raise, a ghost slipping through you.

Someone was watching you. Someone was here with you, and it wasn't Peter.

Before you could turn fully, hands reached for you, tugging you under an invisible wave. You were dragged under the surface, the shock and adrenaline causing you to gasp for air as they yanked you back against the wall.

Men came from all directions, swarming you. You kicked and clawed, getting in a good few punches as you struggled.

You were caught. Again.

But this time, they wouldn't be willing to talk- like Matt and Peter were. You didn’t know what they do, which was the scary part.

“MATT-” You managed to call out, quickly silenced as a butt of a gun was hit to your forehead, the force so strong your neck snapped back, head rolling limp as the sound of the crack reverberated through your ears.

The world turned dark, and you prayed deep down he had some idea what was happening to you at the time being.

He was a catholic. He’d hear.

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

The world was fuzzy.

Everyone said that, that when their eyes opened it was difficult to see for a bit, shapes and colours blending together. But it was bad. Worse than they put it in the books, when they didnt know how else to change the scene, so they just made the character unconscious or whatever.

You feared you were trapped in a watercolour painting as your eyes opened, hand reaching up to grab the place where your head was throbbing like a jackhammer.

You ached for it to stop, moaning out in pain as the word started to reform itself.

“Shh, shh relax.” a familiar voice called, though he sounded slightly out of tune and distant. Matthew came into view as you turned your head, his hand reaching out to press you back into the pillows.

“What happened?” you croaked out, trying to hold back the tears as you felt dried blood crust on your forehead. There was the sound of water trickling as he twisted out a clean rag, the bowl on the bedside table scattered with medical supplies.

You managed to move slightly, allowing him to sit next to you on the bed, a slight frown on his face as he sighed.

“Peter ran out to back you up, but we were outnumbered. He grabbed you and we took off. There were too many of them swarming us for it to be a decent fight, especially because you were knocked out.”

The warm cloth was pressed against your gash, and you flinched from the sudden contact as he tended to you.

Who would have thought? Not you.

“I thought the Matthew Murdock never backed down from a fight?” you asked curiously, knowing it would twinge a nerve or two. But it didn’t. He just shrugged, setting the cloth back down next to the others.

“I do when someone who is on my side is hurt.” he stated, voice seeming to be filled with an emotion you couldn't quite decide on. It was a factual statement, and you were honestly shocked he wasn't more upset with you.

You were silent as he stood, bed creaking slightly from the removal of his extra weight, his arms hanging limp at his sides. It was then you could get a good look at him, though the lighting was dim in his apartment.

His knuckles were slightly smeared with dried blood, some slashes dotted across his forearms that seemed fresh.

But he was unbothered.

He had put on the mask you had put on so many times before, becoming a soldier. Becoming guarded.

“It’s not as bad as it looks.” he noted, sensing your gaze on the marks that dotted across his exposed skin. All you could do was clear your throat as you peeled your eyes from him, desperate to think of anything else but running your fingers across his skin.

You focused on the red numbers from the analog that stared at you, seeing it was an odd hour in the early morning. The heavy rain pattered against the windows, the comforting sound reminding you of nights at your mother's, listening to the rain hit the tin.

Her soft perfume would wrap you in an embrace as she’d lie with you, book in hand as you’d drift off to sleep. The sound always brought you back to a place of serenity, even in the toughest of times. You urged to find yourself back to the memories of her, but were interrupted by the sound of the door slamming, and the squealing of wet boots.

“He returns triumphant.” Peter called from the entrance, a plastic bag dropping to the ground with the water that dripped from his coat as he shrugged it off.

You groaned, forcing yourself to swing your legs over the bed, the hardwood cold against your feet. Pushing up, you wobbled slightly as you rose to your full height- feeling like a fawn on its new legs.

“Did Claire cause a fuss?” Matt asked, flicking on a light from around the corner. You heard water run from a faucet as Peter shook out his dripping hair, running his fingers through it before carrying the bag over to him.

“No, no she seemed fine with it. Kinda rushy but-” His attention slid over to you, concern across his features.

“Hey, hey you're supposed to be in bed.”

“I don't like you.” you murmured, trying to shoo him away as he walked towards you.

“I don't care. You’re supposed to be resting.” he sighed, rolling his eyes as you protested. Peter's hands were warm, despite being outside in the crisp, chilled New York air as they picked you up gently.

He treated you as if you were a piece of fine china when he walked, moving ever so slowly to avoid jutting you around more than necessary. It was odd, considering you both had given each other the side eye more times than you could count.

You weren't used to the attention. You weren't sure if you liked it or not, it was too unfamiliar and new. But you accepted it, tucking your head to your chin as you clutched his sweater tighter, the clenching of your fists bringing you relief.

He carried you to the bathroom, the brighter lighting making you squint as he entered. Matt stood at the vanity, the bag of goods Peter had picked up scattered out on the counter. You gulped at the sight of the medical tools, the needle and thread making your skin crawl.

“I think I’m fine.” you said, anxiously clearing your throat as Peter set you down beside the sink. Matt resumed his doings, gathering the thread as if this were an everyday occurrence for him.

It very well could be, you realized.

“Seriously, I’m okay-”

“Hold her still.” Matt insisted to Peter as you made a move to slide off the counter. Panic swarmed you like flies, maggots chewing away at your lungs as you found it harder and harder to breathe.

It wasn't because of the boys, far from that. They had taken quite good care of you, despite the circumstances. It was the needle, the damn needle that made your stomach turn in on itself.

The idea of something sewing through layers of your skin did not sit right with you. You wanted to turn to the invisible camera,  break the fourth wall during this shit.

“Can you believe this shit? I can help take down Fisk, but I’m scared of a small needle? (and commitment sometimes)”  

“Breathe.” Matt commanded sternly as his hand gripped your thigh, sensing your bubbling fear. You shook your head frantically, your stomach starting to clench.

A gentle touch to your other thigh startled you, and you looked over in alarm as Peter's fingers brushed your skin, his eyes seeming to bleed raw with empathy. He seemed genuinely concerned for you, and you welcomed his touches with open arms as you started to shake and buzz with nerves.

“Kitty, it’s okay. I promise you, he knows what he’s doing.”

”I used to stitch up my dad after his fights when I was a kid. I’ve been doing it my whole life.” Matt replied softly. “It’s not that it’s just… it grosses me out. The needle- I mean.”

Matt tilted his head slightly, a small little smile on his face. The one you had seen so much when you were around him in the short period of time, the one he did when he was teasing you.

You wanted to rub it off his face, smear it like chocolate into his skin with the palm of your hand.

“You’re a brave lil thing. You’ll be okay.” You closed your eyes, doing anything to dissociate, anything to convince your mind you were in a better place. Knuckles clenched around the counters edge, nails scratching the sharp surface as you keened.

“I’ll be gentle.” he murmured in your ear, close enough so that you could breathe in his scent, could feel the heat that pulsed off him in a sinusoidal wave. 

He was far, yet so close in your mind, sight like tunnel vision as you tried not to be consumed by him. But it was impossible. The soft gentle squeeze on your thigh took away from Matt's actions, and you exhaled softly, steadily.

In for four. Hold for four. Out for four. In for four. Hold for-

“Which one of them did this to you?” Peter asked you benevolently, finger strumming a steady rhythm. You were scared for him to stop.

Suddenly, you didn't want to be left alone anymore. It was strange how the human body could react like this, how it could change and fluctuate depending on each situation was thrown at it. It wasn't equipped to handle them alone. It was a machine, but was unusable, nor was it well-oiled if someone wasn't there to support it.

In some cases, that was the last person you'd ever expect in your life to keep its maintenance.

“I’m not sure. He had a scar, right across his cheek. That’s all I could see of him, before the others came.”

Silence. Then another beat.

“We’ll kill them all.” was all he said, eyes slipping up to admire Matt's handiwork. Matt nodded, humming to himself softly as he patched you up with ease. Your eyes threatened to bulge out of their head at their comments, shocked that they could talk about this so… so lightly.

And for you? They would kill for you, someone they could barely stand to work with. It rubbed you the wrong way.

There was more to this than you realized.

“I thought the two of you didnt kill?” you asked hesitantly, gritting your teeth so hard they hurt as you felt Matt tug on the final stitch.

The two of them just shrugged. You didn't like how much they shrugged.

“We don't really.”

Then this was personal. This was about Fisk. You needed- no ached for more answers for the more questions that brewed in your mind,

Why Fisk? Why bring you into this? They most likely weren't planning on killing them because of you. You seemed too insignificant. There was a larger cause behind this, if it was driving them to killing instincts.

“So why?” You couldn't help but speak your current interest, too many questions churning deep inside the labyrinths of your mind.

“Done.” Matt sighed, ignoring your questions. A chill spread through your thigh as you felt Peter's hand slip from the surface of your skin, slightly scarred but smoothen after healing.

It felt like a shock, his hand retracting as if he was zapped from you. As if the trance was broken, and things were back to normal. Where you hated him, and he hated you, and neither of you could look at each other for more than two minutes without making faces like children.

His footsteps were silent, cat-like as he removed himself from the tension sharp enough you could cut it with a knife- as he should.

You’d go, or he would.

You slipped from the counter, watching as Matt started to put his supplies in random drawers, although they weren't random to him. He opened each one swiftly, knowing exactly where to put each item where.

You stood still, hoping he’d provide you with the answer you desired. You didn't want to leave this apartment without one.

But he ignored you, acting as if you weren't there. A childlike tendency was brewing inside you, and you fought the urge to not stop your foot against the cool tile and huff.

“Matt?”

“Yeah?”

Why won't you tell me anything? Why am I being left in the dark? Why, just why can't you tell me anything? But you didn't want to push anything.

It was too soon. You had a feeling deep down, small but visible, that’d they'd tell you at some point. Patience was key. It was key in that cleaning closet, and it was key now. It had overtaken so many parts of your life- being patient. It was difficult to master, but it was essential for independence.

“Thank you. For stitching me up, and taking care of me. I appreciate it.” you nodded, not waiting for a reply before you stepped out of the bathroom, heart heavy in your hands.

It had weighed on you- how exhausted you were. It was a lot for your body to handle, in such a short period of time. It was hard for you to admit it to yourself, but you registered the fact you hadn't done something as extreme as this.

Of course you had taken down organizations before, small little street gangs and such that caused disturbances to your true targets.

But this? Fisk? It was a lot. And you had a very strong feeling it wouldn't be ending soon.

The sound of a glass shifting across the table made you jump, the scraping of the glass against the mahogany an uncomfortable pause in the everlasting silence.

Peter’s hand closed around the cup, adams apple bobbing as he chugged the water back.

“You gonna sleep in just that?” he asked, eyebrow raised with a sly grin on his face. You looked down, the oversized tank top hanging down just past your knees.

You presumed it was one of Matt’s considering how large it was on you- and the fact all you had on you at the time was your suit.

They had seen you mostly naked. Oh my god.

Your cheeks burned with embarrassment as you looked back up at him, determined not to let the humiliation you felt win. Besides, Peter was more pretty to look at than the floor anyways.

“What else am I supposed to wear? You gonna be a pervert?” His hands flew up in mock defense, eyes widening.

“No, no I’m a gentleman. Just worried you’ll be cold, that's all.”

“These floors better be heated then.” you shrugged, snagging a warm fuzzy blanket off the arm of the couch.

“No ones sleeping on the floor. I’m on the couch, you're with Parker in the bed.” Matt chipped out, emerging from the bathroom at last. It was as if he was your conversation- not wanting to interrupt in case someone said something snarky and he’d drop the popcorn.

It took you a second to understand what he said fully, feeling incompetent.

“The bed?”

“The bed.” You shook your head hectically, the room blurring.

“I can sleep on the floor.”

“I know you can.” he replied, hand touching the lower area of your back as he passed you, making you shiver.

“But it’d be much better if you slept in the bed with your injuries. And besides, what guest sleeps on the floor?” he asked coyly, fluffing up the couch pillows.

Peter’s smile was mischievous as ever, a glimmer in his eye as he took you in.

“C'mon kitty. I don't bite. Promise.” You refused to trust a promise from Parker. But you felt your feet begin to automatically walk over to the comfort of the bed, with its warm sheets that smelt of lavender.

Today was bundles of nightmares all smashed into each other, toppling over one another to cram themselves into the twenty-four hours.

What would sleeping next to Parker do to add to that? 

------------------------------------------------------------------------------ He added a lot.

Though it wasn't nightmares- the opposite in fact, it was more trouble to your own morals than you thought was possible.

You woke just as the sun rose, only managing to muster a few hours of shut eye despite the events before. Though your injuries were numbed from pain meds, it was spent tossing and turning between the sheets, trapped in the labyrinth of your own mind.

You were internally angry at yourself, mad at the attraction you felt towards the two men. It had only been a few weeks, and anytime their eyes lingered on you for too long you felt your panties start to dampen.

You wondered if they could tell.

The idea that they could excited you even more.

This wasn't supposed to happen, this little rendezvous of sexual tension between the three of you. You were the villain, they were the heroes. The villain wasn't supposed to clash with the hero in that way- it was off-script.

Yet you felt frozen in place as the birds chirped, Peter's warm body so close to yours you felt the hardening bulge in his pj pants- his large arm draped over your body.

Everyone was still asleep as far as you knew, but you wouldn't be surprised if Matt was awake. He was as quiet as a mouse, most likely listening to your quickening heartbeat as Peter's arm brushed against your hardened nipples, and you opened your legs slightly.

You swallowed, too afraid to make a sound.

“Mmm here kitty, kitty.” he whispered, voice husky and laced with sleep against your scalp.

Your eyes widened.

Was he dreaming about you?

Shifting, you brushed the curve of your ass against his bulge, making him groan. There was no harm in a little fun- was there? It’s not like you were in love with them or anything.

Who said you couldn't mess around for a bit- act on that sexual tension?

You heard his breath catch in his throat, eyes opening slowly to feel you pressed up against him.

“Were you dreaming of me?” you asked innocently, starting to slowly tease him, his fingers brushing circles against your hardened nipples.

“I like when you do that, ya know. They're so sensitive.”

“You minx. You're being a tease.” he growled softly, pinching your nipple harshly as you softly yelped.

“Don’t you like it when I’m a tease though bug boy? It just means you’ll have to train me real good.” you smiled, turning back to give him puppy dog eyes, resulting him practically dry-humping you.

You knew Matt could smell your sweet arousal, and you wondered how long he would hold off before yelling at the two of you to stop fucking around on his bed.

“I thought you hated me?”

“I do. But you feel so good.” you sighed, coy smile blooming as he shimmed lower, teeth sinking deep into your neck as he slid his hand down to part your legs even further.

“Such a fucking whore. Just some cock will shut you up- won’t it?”

You nodded frantically, the hiss that slipped from his lips sounding like music to your ears as he felt how wet you were through the flimsy fabric.

“Please. Please I’ll be so good I promise-” you begged, squirming with anticipation as he chuckled lowly.

“Oh so now she switches up hmm? Silly girl.” he cooed, slipping your thong to the side. You couldn't believe this was really happening. It made your head spin, made your limbs tingly at the thought alone how wrong this was.

Wasting no time, he tugged down his boxers, slowly teasing you as he slid the tip along your wet folds. You knew he was doing it just to spite you, and you were insistent on not giving him the satisfaction.

Biting your lip, you shivered as he toyed with you- a cat playing with its dinner.

“Oh so no back talk now? Good.” he growled, sliding it in to the hilt, making you slap your hands over your mouth with a means to silence the moans that threatened to escape.

Though there was no point, Matt heard every little breath and whimper you protruded, cock hard and heavy in his hands as he stoked it like some pervert.

Peter stuffed you to the brim, brushing your g-spot as he tossed his head back in pleasure.

“F-fuck-” you whimpered, almost unable to speak with how sudden the stretch was. It sent fire coursing through your veins, an adrenaline rush bringing you back to when you were in his arms on the rooftop.

“Fuck is right, Jesus Christ you feel so good. So fuckin tight.” he moaned, slowly sliding out of you, feeling your juices coat the base of his cock as he thrust into you hard enough to send your body jolting before he steadied you.

A new body had entered the room, his presence searing and as hot as embers. Little moans escaped your mouth as you stared at Matt, mouth agape, eyes wide as Peter hammered into you.

“In my bed? Really?” he smirked, and you followed his happy trail down to where his large, veiny hand palmed himself as he heard your heartbeat skip a beat.

“Well someone’s happy to see me. Hmm kitty?”

You moaned, hiccuping on your spit and drool as Peter’s thrusts became more erratic. By the way he was handling you, you knew he didn’t care how quickly you came.

He was using you as a toy, a means to get off. That turned you on even more.

“You’ll get your turn with her after Matty. We talked about this.” he mused, watching your breasts bounce from his harsh manhandling.

“Oh, I know. It’s only fair, isn't it kitty?”

“Y-yeah.” you choked out, Matt’s fingers reaching out to wipe the drool that had dribbled from your lips, swirling his tongue around the coated digit and releasing it with a pop.

“She’s already going dumb. Like a bitch in heat.” Peter smiled, him and Matt holding you steady as your body instinctively attempted to wiggle away from the intense waves of overstimulation, his moans ringing out throughout the room as he came in you with a grunt.

“She just needs to be bred.” Matt smiled, tugging off his boxers and your eyes nearly rolled at the sight.

This was addicting. The way they were making you feel, the way they spoke to you as if you were just a toy for their pleasure. But that's what you liked. Which made it so you knew it would be even harder to avoid this scenario again. It was like a drug.

His hand gripped your chin, forcing your gaze on his as Peter slid out of you, cum oozing out all over your puffy, swollen cunt as you whined from the abrupt emptiness.

“Shhh. You’re fine.”

Your body was limp as Matt took over, flipping you on your stomach, knees bent with your ass in the air. Kisses trailed down your spine, thin tanktop slung somewhere in the room.

You didn’t know. You didn't care.

All you cared about was the way he handled you, so gentle compared to Peter. But you knew he’d get rough soon.

“S’too much-” you mumbled sleepy against the sheets, feeling spent.

“She's spent. Fuckin whore is cockdrunk.” Peter smirked, shrugging on a t-shirt as he watched the scene unfold in front of him.

It felt dirtier with him watching in a way, knowing his eyes would linger on you in your most vulnerable state.

“But she had so much backtalk with us these past few weeks. What happened to that now angel?” Matt asked mockingly as he slid back in you, stuffing Peter's cum back into your abused hole again.

“Mhm-” you moaned, fisting the sheets as he entered you. He was more patient than Peter, slowly filling you instead of slamming to the hilt- but the stretch was just as delicious.

“M’so sorry. I’m so, so sorry.” you mindlessly babbled- for what you didn't know. You just wanted to be good, to make them happy, and to please them. If that meant shattering your ego, then so be it.

“Silly girl.” Matt provoked, gripping your hips hard enough to bruise as he started to use you as he saw fit. You sunk your head deeper into the pillows, tears starting to stream down your cheeks from the sensitivity.

“M’gonna cum-” you hiccupped cautiously, seeing as Matt’s pace was not stopping for anything, or anyone.

“Yeah? Go ahead baby. I’ll let you, since Parker was being so cruel.”

“She was being a tease. She had to learn a lesson.” Peter mused, teeth digging into his lower lip as he watched where you and Matt connected, knowing his cum was being shoved further into you.

“But she’s such a sweet girl. Deep down, you just wanna please us, don’t you baby? Your little demeanor doesn't fool us.”

You felt your brain go fuzzy, his voice sounding distant as you came around his cock with a high pitched whine.

“Atta girl kitty.” Peter called, creaming Matt’s cock as he stilled, filling you up just the same. His grunts were like music to your ears, following you as you came down from the little cloud you were perched on.

“So good baby. Just stay put, yeah?” Matt murmured, and you didn’t even have the strength to nod as he slowly inched his way out of you, both of their cum now slowly spilling out of you as your legs twitched and quivered.

You couldn't move even if you wanted to. Your body felt like jello, and you felt your lower half slowly slide down onto the bed as you whimpered.

“Hurts s’bad.” you groaned, Peter's hand finding its way to stroke your cheek bringing you some form of comfort as you heard Matt start to run the tap, warm water spewing out onto a clean washcloth.

“I know kitty. But you did so good for us. It’s okay, just go back to sleep yeah?”

You nodded, eyes starting to droop as you clung to consciousness.

“I fucked her better you know.” Peter called, making Matt scoff as he returned with the damp fabric in hand.

“Yeah right. Older men just do it better Parker.” he shrugged, and you almost wanted to deride them. They were bickering like children and if you were in the position to bicker back- you would.

The feeling of the cloth against you made you jolt, and Peter reached out to steady you, rubbing small soothing circles on your back as Matt cleaned you.

It was strange and unfamiliar, the kindness and soothing physical contact the men were showing you. You bathed in it, scared it would all slip away like sand when the after-orgasm haze wore off.

“I’m sure Murdock. But who got to have her first?”

“Because she was sleeping right next to you! In my bed, may I add.”

You rolled your eyes, their endless arguing lingering over to the kitchen as you clung to the warm blankets that smelt of them.