#And most of the time. what she thinks is right is right
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buckyalpine · 2 days ago
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I love Bucky loving his body. I love Bucky loved by the team. I love Bucky having his happy ending with a family. Imagine Bucky lounging around the sofa with his little baby girl tucked in his arm, her sweet face covered in frosting after smothering half of her cupcake onto her cheeks. The icing is bright red just like Tony's suit and it's his birthday party afterall, so everything is in full swing. Most of the cupcake is squished between her fingers, very little actually making it into her mouth but Bucky doesn't mind. He chuckles, watching her with heart eyes as she happily smears it onto his crisp white shirt, babbling and cooing, now sucking her thumb.
He is absolutely unbothered by this, all he sees is his happy little baby with her cheeky smile licking up all the frosting just like her mama. While Bucky couldn't care less about his shirt, a few others certainly did.
"Better get dunk that shirt into a bucket of tide pens Barnes" Clint snorted.
"Actually the quicker you get it off, the less likely it is to stain. Take it off now" Tony's voice went from fatherly advice to a seductive growl making Bucky's face twist in amusement, pink starting to color his cheeks.
"Yeah, give the little munchkin to y/n and take it off. Cause of the stain" Nat agreed, cocking an eyebrow. You giggled watching the scene unfold before you, your husband growing bashfully shy.
"Can't hurt punk" Steve shrugged and Bucky's eyes nearly popped out of his head until he realized his best friend had been nursing a rather large glass of Asgardian mead. Tipsy Steve was always a little bit of a pervert...
"I-
"For the stain"
"I think you just want me to take my shirt off" Bucky huffed while you grinned, giving his cheek a peck before taking your little princess in your arms.
"Can't blame them handsome, c'mon, show em' how lucky I am" you whisper and that sells it. Couldn't hurt and since they were all asking...
"Just take it off!" Nat howled with a wink, a bunch of whistles when Bucky sighed, indulging the team a little. He unbuttons his shirt and hands it off to a genuinely concerned Sam who would normally make sure the shirt got sent to the cleaners but this is too good so he throws it into a bucket of cold water and is back within seconds.
"Good God"
"Jesus"
"You look fuckin' good terminator"
"Alright, alright" Bucky holds his hands up, unable to stop the way his ears are bright red, shaking his head when you blow him a kiss making him blush more.
"Body shots!"
"What?"
"Yes"
Tony's eyes glimmer with excitement, and Bucky snorts, loving the way you egg him on, his daughter also squealing with excitement.
"Go on Sarge, y'know you look good"
He lies down on the bar table, surrounded by just the team, abs beautifully flexed as Nat pours a generous amount of some type of alcohol right on his belly button.
"When else will we get this lucky" She says with a playful smirk while Steve cracks his knuckles.
"Why are you cracking your knuckles, what the hell do you plan on-
"ME FIRST" He doesn't give anyone a chance, face planting himself into Bucky's tummy, his lips sealed, drinking every bit of the burning liquor with a satisfied hum.
"How much has he had to drink"
"Who cares, me next"
"I think you've licked enough of my husband"
"You get him all the time, don't be greedy"
"That cute little chubby ball of frosting and giggles is enough evidence you get him every which way, besides isn't there another one cooking, y'can't have any now git"
"Blink twice if you need help"
"Bro looks like an angel"
"Why aren't you blinking"
"Crafted by the heavens"
"You like this, don't you"
Bucky can't help but chuckle, surrounded by idiots. Drunk idiots. His wife. His baby girl. Another little one on the way. All who love him. Would protect him. Life was good.
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ellecdc · 1 day ago
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hello elle!! i saw you asking for pregnant reader/ dad marauders and i was thinking maybe one about one of them reading about baby’s and music and they’re all discussing what kind of music they wanna play if they want classical or baby music and tiny baby who cannot care any less just starts crawling towards the vinyls and picks something like bowie or queen?? i can imagine sirius losing his mind about it, i just know it would be funny!! i love the ones you’ve made so far i’m obsessed, you’re so talented <3
aaah so cute! thanks for the request!!! <3
dad!marauders x mum!reader who try to musicify their child [850 words]
CW: kid fic, written as fem!reader but no gender is specified - Remus calls you dove, one slightly dirty joke if you want it to be, fluff [I tried to avoid naming their kid for this one but it didn't feel right. I know I like to have Sirius' daughter's name to be 'Aurora' but idk what to do with poly fics yet]
You’d long since given up on trying to spare your child from their father’s nonsense. You have a feeling that Remus had too, though he couldn’t always help but stoke the coals of nonsense where he saw fit.
“I think it’s fine she’s not said her first word yet!” Sirius commented from the floor, sitting cross legged with his arms held aloft should he need to catch your daughter if her chubby little legs gave out on her. “Some say that if it takes them a long time to start speaking, then they’ll just start speaking in full sentences.”
“Yeah?” Remus commented sceptically as he sifted through the mail. “Who’s they?” 
“The books! The baby books!”
“The baby books?” Remus deadpanned, shooting you wink to let you know he was taking the piss.
“Yes! That’s why we need to start her on music now.” Sirius proclaimed, earning him a scoff from James who was sitting on the edge of the coffee table, also supervising your toddlers toddling. 
“Oh? We need to start her on music now? But when I wanted to start her on music back-”
“You didn’t want to start her on music, Jamie.” Sirius scolded. “You wanted to start her on ABBA.” 
“You take that back.” James demanded, pointing a severe finger at Sirius.
“Okay, okay.” Remus commented with his hands up placatingly. “Let’s all just take it easy, alright? There’s no need for this to escalate.” 
Sirius and James stared each other down a moment longer before they relented. 
“But we should probably get her started on Beethoven or Motzart.” Remus added as he disappeared into the kitchen, earning him ‘oi’s of protest from his two most theatrical partners.
“You’re trying to make my daughter boring.” Sirius accused.
“No.” Remus argued as he returned with a frozen teether for said daughter, moving to sit on the couch next to the chair you were situated in. “I’m trying to make our daughter intelligent.” 
“Y/N.” James whined then, causing you to look up from the book you were only pretending to read. “Moony’s trying to turn our daughter into a swot.”
“Remus.” You drawled in your most bored tone.
Remus played the part of a beat down suburban father. “Yes dear?” 
“Stop trying to give our daughter a fighting chance in McGonagall’s advanced transfiguration course.”
“Yes dear.”
“Thank you.” Sirius professed, smiling greatly at the child when she gurgled something around the teether. “Is that right, sweet girl? That almost sounded like the Arabic in the bridge of Bohemian Rhapsody!” 
“No,” James argued, “that sounded like the opening notes of Super Trouper.” 
“It sounded like the poor thing is cutting another tooth.” You countered as you held your arms open, earning you a slobbery smile around the teether she refused to spit out, watching as she took two unstable steps towards you before falling onto her bum. 
“Our little lovie won’t let that slow her down though, will she?” James cheered, earning him a squeal from his daughter as she took off crawling in the opposite direction.
“What would be her first words if she started speaking in full sentences, though?” You pondered aloud as you watched her stand on her knees in front of the record collection, banging her teether against the legs of the turntable. 
“Probably reminding Sirius to ‘use a sodding coaster’.” James chuckled.
“Or the common conciliatory ‘okay, moons’.” Remus snorted. 
“No! It should absolutely be ‘I solemnly swear I am up to no good’!” Sirius interjected.
“That’s kind of a mouthful for a wee babe.” Remus considered.
“You’re kind of a mouthful.” Sirius muttered.
“What about ‘mischief managed’?” You offered then, causing all three boys to sigh sentimentally. 
“No.” Sirius decided after a moment. “Her first word will definitely be ‘dove’.”
“I agree.” James added with a nod in your direction. “That’s probably the most said word in this house.”
“That’s not true.” Remus argued; his cheeks dusted with the faintest pink. 
Any further teasing at Remus’ sake was curtailed by an excited squeal from the child who was now standing at her full height with a record in one hand and its sleeve in the other.
“No way!” Both James and Sirius chorused, though it was James in excitement and Sirius in devastation. 
James all but launched himself at his daughter and scooped her up into his arms, eliciting even more delighted squealing as he placed the record of her choosing on the turntable and hit play. 
And what started playing from your well-used record player but Side Two of ABBA’s Greatest Hits Vol. 2.
“You can dance! You can jive! Having the time of your life; ooooh!” James sang horribly out of tune to his daughter's delight and Sirius’ chagrin as you and Remus shared a look. 
“She’s not going to stand a chance in advanced transfiguration, is she?” 
“Perhaps not,” you offered as you watched James sing loudly at Sirius who beamed up at James and their daughter from his place on the floor, forgoing any act of irritation as he sang and bobbed along for your baby's sake, “but at least she’ll know how to dance.”
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mountainsandmayhem · 3 days ago
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BDSMaid - Chapter 6
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Series Summary: After recently graduating you take what is supposed to be a job to save money before you go back to university to get your law degree. Your best friend offers you a job cleaning luxury homes for clients you’ll never know. Easy. Simple. Mundane. Until one of your clients is home and everything you felt was missing in your life starts to fall into place. This goes against the NDA you signed and you could get fired. Or worse, you could fall in love. 
CW: 18+ MDNI. In order to avoid spoilers, all tags are under the cut in small red lettering. Reader does have some body descriptions so more of an oc than female reader.
AN: I don't think I understood the term "labour of love" until right now. I'm emotionally exhausted yet so fucking proud at the same time. Thank you @lotusbxtch for fixing all my grammar and formatting. I also couldn't of done this without @mermaidgirl30 , @littlevenicebitch69, @alltheirdamn, and @for-a-longlongtime (even if you did just try to distract me with Santi the entire time LOL)
Word Count: 14.6k (sorry, grab a snack or two)
Series Masterlist | My Masterlist | AO3
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CW: use of petnames, mention of losing a spouse, mentions of child abuse (mostly verbal), use of nick names (baby, sweet girl, etc.), dirty talk, spanking, sexual activity in public, kissing, protected p in v, oral (female receiving), consumption of alcohol, mutual pining, mentions of falling in love, Dom/sub dynamics.
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You: 911, I need to go buy a dress, but ya’ll can’t ask me what it’s for Laren: no strings attached shopping? Fuck yeah!  You: I’m serious though Laren: Dude, I won’t ask you as long as you don’t ask about the hickey on my neck Jamie: Damn, my dad’s in California so I can’t leave the office. You: hmm…maybe we just tell each other one secret each Laren: oh sorry, forgot I have to vacuum my cat today, can’t shop You: fine, no asking about the hickey. Pick you up at noon? Jamie: Have fun. I need a sugar daddy. Odette: booo! I’m studying. Someone alert me when we learn about the hickey. 
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You
Laren’s jaw drops as you step out of the dressing room, the soft silk of the floor length black gown skims against your body. Your eyes trail down the thin straps along your shoulders and down the deep v that sits low on your sternum. You’ve never appreciated your small breasts until now. The risque cut has a soft and romantic feel. Somehow, so does the long slit up your one leg, stopping much higher than most black tie venues would find acceptable. You spin to take in the way the silk dips low on your back. Yeah, Joel Miller is going to love this. 
“You look stunning. I’m not gonna ask, but whoever you’re wearing that for is going to fall in love with you. I might fall in love with you.”
You laugh at her, watching as she tugs the collar of her sweater up to cover the very prominent purple hickey on her pulse point. If only she knew how ridiculous that statement really was. Joel Miller, your dom, falling in love with you. It’s impossible. 
The big box that you stuffed the small, pink and bedazzled box in snickers in your mind then taunts you in her uppity British accent. He loves you, remember how he held your hand so tenderly through that last orgasm? “It’s a date”, “It’s only you”. 
You shake your head and run your hands down your torso and hips, the silk feeling like water under your hands. 
“Wow, that dress was made for you.” The peppy store clerk says as she rounds the corner to the dressing room. “Oh! I have just the accessory, if you don’t mind me showing you?”
You nod and then look over at Laren through the mirror. The two of you haven’t been friends for that long, but it doesn’t take a genius to realize she’s not wearing her massive engagement ring, plus that giant love bite; something is off. “I’m not gonna ask about the hickey, but are you ok?”
“Ya - I’m fine, why?” Her phone goes off in her purse for what feels like the hundredth time since you picked her up. She hasn’t looked at it once and this newest alert doesn’t change that.  
“No reason. I’m here for you though. I hope you know that.” The corners of her mouth lift, but that vivacious sparkle in her eye doesn’t make an appearance. 
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You spend longer than you ever had getting ready on Friday. You’ve shaved, exfoliated and moisturized every inch of your skin. You painted your fingers and toes with a fresh coat of pearly white polish, noticing that the skin around your cuticles on your hands isn’t picked clean. For the first time in your life, your anxiety hasn’t needed its usual outlet; picking and pushing at your nails until they’re clean. Even with the last few days kicking your ass, Mister Miller made it better, made you better.
After about three hours, you’ve completed the look: big loose curls, one side pinned behind one ear with a gold clip, exposing the soft slope of your neck that Joel loves to press his lips to. You’ve opted for a neutral glam look; a light smokey grey eye, flirty lashes, a touch of blush and highlighter and a nude lip. 
You keep the jewelry simple, just thin gold hoop earrings and two dainty golden chains, the accessories that the sales girl picked out. The first chain is the longest; one end loops tight to your throat then lays down your sternum, a small clip on the other end holds it in place to the lacy black thong you bought for the occasion. The second chain wraps around your exposed thigh. A few small crystals dangle off the garter. It feels perfect for a sex club, almost like you’re being tied up in gold. 
After wrapping the gift you bought for Joel today you debate taping the dress in place. It’s a sex club, surely a nip slip isn’t the worst thing that can happen. However, Joel would probably forcefully remove anyone who got a peek. As tempting as it is to witness that, you decide to save his sanity for one more day and after placing the last piece of tape you hear the rev of his engine coming down your street. Butterflies erupt in your stomach, it’s been weeks since you’ve heard that sound. That deep rumble will probably always fill you with an excited anticipation of seeing Mister Miller. 
You agreed to let him pick you up tonight since Odette is out. You slip your perfectly pedicured toes into black heeled sandals, working the small golden buckle around the ankle quickly as Joel’s shiny black Jag parks in front of your building. You watch from the window as he gets out of the driver's side door, flowers wrapped in brown paper clutched in his hand. A man that size doesn’t look like he’d fit in that sleek sports car. 
Even from your birdseye view from the fourth floor he looks absolutely gorgeous. You’re sure once he’s right in front of you he’ll be devastatingly handsome, especially once he’s added the gift you got him. Similar to you, he’s in all black tonight. 
The beep of his car locking and the buzz of your door go at the same time and you excitedly hit the button to let him up. It feels like hours before there’s a light knock on your front door. After a shaky breath, you open the door.
Fuuuuuck me, you think as you take him in and actively stop yourself from drooling.
He looks as hot as sin dressed in all black, the lapels of the jacket and the tie slightly silky against the flat black of the rest of his clothing. He’s the living, breathing epitome of JMKink right now. Dressed like that matte black letterhead he still leaves you notes on when you clean for him. You lick your lips as your eyes trail back up his tie. Fuck, you want him to wrap it around your wrists. 
He steps into your front entrance and the apartment feels so much smaller; almost like he takes up every bit of space and simultaneously sucks all the air out of you. His hair is parted to the side, trimmed neatly around his ears, curls perfectly placed. You’re sure it was effortless on his part, just running his fingers through it after getting out of the shower, towel wrapped low on his hips. Your mouth waters as you continue to just stare at one another. 
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Joel
“Wow,” he finally manages to rasp. His throat feels like it's full of sand all of a sudden. He clears it gently before continuing. “You look…you’re always beautiful, but you are…”
His eyes travel up and down your body again, he’s feeling lost for words which is not something that happens to him often. He watches your bottom lip slip between your teeth, waiting for him to form a thought.
“Sorry, sweet girl, I need a second here.” He places the bouquet of wildflowers on the small table at the entry then reaches out towards you. He actually feels like he might die if he doesn’t kiss you soon. The whorls and calluses of his fingers drag down the warm, soft skin of your arm gently before he closes his hand around yours. Usually, he loves how small your hand looks in his, but he’s finding it impossibly hard to break eye contact with you right now. As he steps in closely you smile sweetly at him and he’s surrounded by the smell of mint, lavender and something distinctly you. “You look life-alteringly gorgeous. I’m not sure if that’s a word, but wow, Freckles.”
You place your free hand on his chest and he’s sure you can feel how hard his heart is pounding behind his chest. Fuck, he wouldn’t be surprised if you could hear his heart at this point. He cups your face with his other hand and presses his lips to yours, reveling in the way you melt into him, parting your lips and letting him deepen the kiss. He swallows the quiet moan that you make just for him. You pull away too quickly for him, an excited smile across your face.
“I got you something!” You spin and he’s left breathless again by the low back of the dress and the way the silk skirt sways with your hips. 
“You didn’t have to do that,” he says, following you into the living area of your small apartment. “I don’t want you spending your money on me, sweetheart.”
You spin again and his cock twitches as he catches just how high the slit of the skirt is, and the golden jewelry wrapped around your thigh. In your hands is a large, light brown box tied with a black ribbon. “Technically, I spent your money on you,” you say with a wink. “Open it.”
He steps in close, watching your face go from excited to downright giddy as he pulls at the ribbon. He slips the lid off the box and stares down at the exact same black Stetson that he sent with Tiffany. His heart stops beating as the memories, both good and bad, flood through him. This is the same hat he wore the night he met her, the night of their first date, the night he told her he loved her for the first time, the night he married her. Joel Miller doesn’t believe in signs from the universe, but this? This is something. 
No, he thinks as emotions start to clog his throat. This was Tiffany. 
He blinks away the tears that threaten to form behind his eyes and whispers your name. “Thank you, sweetheart. I - I used to have a hat just like this.”
When he looks back at you your brows are furrowed together, a genuine curiosity across your face. “Used to?”
He clears his throat again, “Yea, it’s complicated, but this - this means more to me than you could ever know.”
He slips his hands into the box, the felt of the brim spreads a warm comfort up his hands and forearms. He swallows hard as he realizes it’s the same comfort he feels when he has you in his arms. 
Oh my god…I think, no, I know. I love you.
It hits him so hard that he has to clutch the hat tighter in his hands to ground himself as he pulls it from the box. He knew he was falling, he knew the second he saw you. He can’t push it down anymore. 
“I’m sorry if I overstepped, Joel.”
He turns the hat over in his hands, the black satin liner exactly like his old one. He looks up at you, no longer able to stop the smile or the tears that flood his lash line. Your lips part as your eyes dance around his. 
“No, baby, you didn’t. I’ve, well, I’ve been really missing this hat lately.”
“You gonna try it on, cowboy?” The sultry flirtiness of your voice feels sweet on his skin and after a shallow breath he brings the hat up to his head. As the satin slips over his hair a calm confidence washes over him. His eyes meet yours and your flirty smile turns shy as you blush under his gaze. He’s whole again. 
“So?”
“I’m gonna have to fight the women off, I think.” You say softly.
He laughs, moving the box from your hands back to the table and then cradling your face in his hands. “I’ll only be looking at one woman, my sweet girl.” His lips meet yours gently, your tongue swiping softly against his lip as your slant into the kiss. 
I love you.
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You
You weren’t sure what kind of reaction you’d get from Joel giving him the hat, but his eyes welling up and his breathing getting all shaky was not what you expected. Something about that hat called to you when you saw it. When you picked it up, the soft felt against your palms reminded you of how it feels to be in Joel’s hands. 
He breaks the kiss with a sigh and glances around your apartment. Months ago you would have felt shy or self conscious about Joel in your space, so wholly different from his, but he has never judged you for anything, and you feel yourself becoming more and more comfortable with him which is not a feeling you’re used to. His eyes fall to the scratched wooden coffee table that you got for free from Craigslist.
“You have college letters,” he says proudly, looking back at you.
Your arms cross across your body subconsciously, like they’re trying to shield you from the possibility of being rejected again. “Ya, the last two came today. I’ll open them later.”
“Baby, let's open them! It could be good news.”
He looks so goddamn handsome, in a suit that probably costs more than the entire contents of your apartment and his new black Stetson hat. His expression is encouraging, that same look from his kitchen when you ate some toast; prideful and empathetic. 
“I’m scared,” you almost blurt, wishing you could be smoother with this man. “I don’t want to ruin tonight. If these are both no’s, I don’t know how great of company I’ll be tonight.”
“Freckles, I’m not going to force you into anything you don’t want. But I think you’ll be thinking of the letters either way.”
“Ah, my consent stands even for mail,” you joke.
“Well, it's a federal offense to open someone else's mail so…” Joel winks and flashes a devastating smile your way. 
“Ok,” you close your eyes and take a deep breath. He’s right, you’ll be wondering all night what those letters say, and Joel has a way of making you forget, making you feel understood, important and cared for. “Do it.”
As if he’s a child on Christmas morning and you just gave him the ok, he snatches up the University of Austin and Berkeley letters, almost vibrating as he says, “Which one first?”
You start to pace the few steps of your living room, wringing your hands together as your heels click on the cheap laminate hardwood. “Austin, I’ll be less upset by a no from them.”
The tear of the envelope sounds like a dagger to the ribs as you go to grab the flowers Joel brought for you, desperate for something to do besides stand there. 
“It’s a thick envelope..” Joel says as he slides the letter out.
“Ya, I’ve learned that that doesn’t mean shit,” You say sardonically.
Joel laughs in surprise, “Always shocks me to hear that pretty little mouth swear.”
“Yea?” You ask, “Open the fucking letter, you’re killing me.”
Joel snorts as his strong fingers gingerly fold open the letter. His eyes shoot to yours, “You got in!”
“W-What?” You drop the flowers on the counter top and cover your mouth.
“Sweet girl, you got in. I’m - I’m so fucking proud of you.”
You stand frozen on the spot. It’s not the school you wanted, you want Berkeley, but it doesn’t matter what that letter says now, because either way, you’re going to be a lawyer.
“Oh my god,” you breathe as Joel's arms pull you in for a tight hug.
“Congratulations, baby girl.” His lips press to hair and you start to laugh. “What’s so funny?”
You both part from the hug as you fight to stop tears of pure joy from ruining your makeup. “It’s just…you know, for a second there I actually thought that I wasn’t smart enough. Me? I have a 4.0, I graduated early, I’ve been top of my class for years and I actually thought that I wouldn’t get in.”
Joel's eyes dance, a big smile across his face as he watches you fill a vase. “Open the other one.”
He keeps his eyes on you as he opens the next letter. As he folds open the thick eggshell coloured paper you plunge the flowers into the cold water, his face drops and you prepare yourself for the worst, “You got in. Baby, you - you got in.”
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You - Four Years Prior
“So what? You think that getting into your fancy university in Texas means you can just leave Arizona whenever you please? Your mom needs you, you can’t just leave.” Your dad is in his patchwork recliner, a beer in his hand despite it being nine in the morning. The hot June morning heating the small house to an uncomfortable stifle. 
“I’ve contributed as much as I can, dad. Two months from now I’m not going to have any time to myself. I deserve some time doing what I want.”
Your dad snorts, legs slamming the leg rest down on the recliner. “You’re an ungrateful little bitch, aren’t you?”
That should sting, it would to anyone else, but you’ve been called every name possible by your father. You see him now for what he truly is, a loser. He can’t hold a job, hasn’t been able to for years. When you were younger, you thought you were the apple of his eye. He’d show up to every school function, every award ceremony, all the little things. You were eight when you realized he didn’t even speak to you at those functions, just walked around bragging about how he was the reason you’ve achieved whatever you were being celebrated over. It was his time to shine, his award, not yours.
“I’m going,” you say, hoisting your duffle bag of clothing over your shoulder. You’ve always wanted to go back to California. You went once with your mother when you were nine or ten, and the minute you got to the beach and felt the warm sand between your toes everything went quiet. It’s called out to you ever since.
As you spin towards the front door you hear the groan of your dad standing up. Fear spikes in your veins, your heart slamming in your ribs. He’s never hit you, but with the redness of his face as he called you names this morning you wouldn’t put it past him. 
“Like fuck you are!” He bellows as a hard object strikes the back of your head, followed by warm liquid soaking through the back of your t-shirt.
One of your hands cups the back of your head as you bolt towards your recently purchased, and slightly rusted, SUV. “Get back in here right now you little cunt! You stole money from me for that vehicle, didn’t you?”
You can’t help but laugh as you get in the front seat. You don’t bother locking the doors, you know he’s barely out the front door without looking. He’s not strong enough, and definitely too drunk, to overpower you. You throw the vehicle into reverse and yell out the window, “You don’t have any money for me to steal, Doug!”
You hit his first name hard, knowing damn well how much it will enrage him. You drive away without looking back, and you only stop once for gas for the next ten hours. 
The sun is setting as you reach the motel in Newport Beach. You head straight for the beach, kicking off your sandals and letting your feet sink into the cool sand. Your phone vibrates in your pocket, “Mom” across the screen in bold letters.
“Hi,” you say sheepishly, still feeling like a child even though you aren’t.
“Get our ass home, right fucking now. You’re supposed to be contributing to this family and somehow you had enough money to buy a car? And a trip to California? Mark my words, young lady. If you don’t walk back through that door by this time tomorrow, I will come there and get you myself!”
A lump forms in your throat. You’ve spent your whole childhood trying to get them to see you. Contributing? None of your friends had to contribute, they all got to be kids. You’re going to be making a lot of money as a lawyer one day, and they can go fuck themselves if they think they’re getting a single penny of that money.
“I’m afraid I won’t be doing that, mother.”
“You’re in for a rude fucking awakening, little girl. Just because you were the smartest person here, does not mean you’ll be the smartest person anywhere else. The world is going to chew you up and spit you out, and your father and I will not be here to fix you.”
“I don’t see how that’s any different than now. Good bye.”
You hang up before she can respond and look out over the water. The sun is setting in a kaleidoscope of peaches, marigolds and lavenders. You block your parents' numbers before snapping a picture of the sunset and setting it as your background. A sense of calm washes over you as the waves crash along the shore. You walk towards the water and dip your feet in, the water washing away the last eighteen years of your life. You’re free.
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You - Present Day
A whispered ‘holy shit’ is all you can muster as realization washes over you. Your dream school - and you got in. You can go to the beach and listen to the ocean, feel the sand under your feet. You can feel as free as you did almost four years ago. You lock eyes with Joel. Can you really leave him? 
“I can’t believe I got in. To two schools. I’m going to be a lawyer.” Excitement floods your body. You can worry about deciding later, even though deep down you already know what you're going to choose. Right now, you can just be happy and proud. He reaches a hand out to you and you step into the living room to take it. He pulls you in, wrapping you in his strong arms. 
“I know I said this already, but I am so god damn proud of you, sweet girl. No one deserves this more than you. I want to celebrate this with you soon, please?”
“Well,” you say with a hint of mischief, pulling back to look at him, “We are going to be at the club.”
His eyes flash with something you’ve never seen before. “Ya - the club.”
“Oh my god. We’re late, Joel!” You push out of his hold. This is his big night, his five year anniversary of owning his club.
“Baby, stop,” he pulls you into his arms again and cups your face. “I don’t care. Just let me kiss you until you need to reapply that lipstick, and then we can go.” His lips crash passionately into yours. “I’m so fucking proud of you, sweet girl,” he gasps between kisses.
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Joel wasn’t lying. He really did kiss you until your lips were swollen and you had to touch up not only your lipstick but the bit of highlighter on your nose; he also needed to participate, taking one of your makeup wipes to his nose, chin and lips before opening the door to his Jag for you and speeding off to the club.
Upon entering the club, the two of you were separated almost immediately. Joel was whisked away to the stage where he, Tommy and who you assume is Tess are now. The stage is lit up as he gives a speech and thanks everyone. A glass of champagne is handed to you as you stand along the edge of the bar. Everyone claps and as he tries to make his way back to you is pulled into a handshake from a very wealthy looking older man. You smile into your glass of expensive pink champagne as the woman from the stage approaches you.
“Hi! I’m sorry for having to steal him the moment you two walked in.” She extends a perfectly manicured hand out to you. “I’m Tess.”
You go to introduce yourself and she cuts you off as she continues. “Oh, I know who you are. Joel will probably kill me, but we have all been very interested to meet you.”
“All?” you say, swallowing nervously.
She shrugs. “No one has ever seen him this, hmm, this relaxed before. He’s usually here or across the street barking orders. You don’t become as successful as him without a little stress, but since you came along he seems different. Happy.”
You blush, watching him engrossed in a new conversation, his eyes often meeting yours across the room. “Look,” Tess says, stepping closer and lowering her voice. “I hang around the Millers way too often and I could really use some girl talk. Is that ok?”
“Tess, if there’s one thing I’m good at, it’s girl talk.” You smile at her and then turn to the bartender. “Two tequila shots, please!”
She takes a breath, looking at Joel and then back at you. “I’m just going to cut right to the chase. I didn’t think I’d live to see the day where Joel wore a black cowboy hat again.”
You raise an eyebrow at Tess, this could be your chance to get an explanation around his response. You know you weren’t imagining his eyes getting glassy, and he did say it means more to him than he could ever tell you. “I got him that hat.” 
Tess’s jaw drops and panic rises in your chest. “What? Why? What’s wrong with the hat?” 
“Tequila first,” she says as the shots slide across the shiny black marble bar top. A shiver racks through Tess after she swallows, you don’t flinch. “I don’t know if it’s my place…”
“It’s girl talk, he’ll never know.” You state, sucking at the lime. Tess clears her throat and motions to the bartender for another round. The next time she speaks it’s a hushed, sad voice, just barely above a whisper.  
“He, umm - well, he had a hat just like that growing up. Wore it all the time actually. He had it on the night he met Tiffany, and pretty much every important day in his life since then. Their first date, their wedding. Shit, I’m pretty sure there’s a picture of Sarah as a newborn in that hat. He also wore it the last time he held her.” Her voice trails off and heartbreak for her friend lines her features. “He…she loved it so much that he sent it with her.” 
You swallow hard and glance past Tess’s shoulder to Joel across the club. The moments of time between each of your heartbeats are filled by memories of his reaction. Tess continues, “Look, maybe you're like Joel. Maybe you don’t believe in astronomy or signs from the universe, but I don’t think you finding that hat was a coincidence.”
You aren’t like Joel; you do believe in signs. You thought you were going crazy when you found that hat today. It literally called to you from inside the store. It wasn’t on display in the window. No, you heard someone call your name behind you and when you looked over your shoulder the hat was all you could see. Could that voice have been from the wife he lost too early? You catch Joel’s gaze across the room; something about him, even before you knew him, comforted you. As your mind starts running through the depth of what that hat means to him he winks, you think you might be falling for him. 
All of this means something. It has to mean something. Right? 
“Girl talk stays between us?” You ask shyly.
“Absolutely!” Tess exclaims, you like her more and more and can see yourself being very good friends with her, even if she is almost twice your age.
“Tequila first,” you say in the same way she did earlier. 
She clicks her glass against yours and then on the bar top before slamming the shot back. “I hate tequila,” she rasps while sucking the lime.
“I can’t talk to my girlfriends about this. I don’t know if you know how me and Joel met, but one of my best friends is sort of my boss and I would get fired from my job for knowing him.” Tess nods, and orders you both a glass of what you’re sure is very expensive rosé. “Sometimes Joel says things that make me feel like maybe we are more than a sub and a dom, but that’s ridiculous, right? It’s the heat of the moment.”
“Babe, do you know how long Joel has been doing this?” She asks gently.
You shake your head and take a sip of your wine.
“Years…at one point, being a dom was how he made money. He’s a professional.”
Her words feel like a lead weight in the pit of your stomach, bile starts to burn at your throat. The whiplash of thinking he’s falling, and knowing that you are, and now dealing with this is almost too much. Joel has moved onto a conversation with yet another guest. “Right, he’s good. He’s supposed to make me feel wanted. I think I’m just not used to someone being there.”
“That’s not what I’m saying,” Tess’s hand comes to grab yours, squeezing reassuringly. “Professional doms don’t say things in the heat of the moment. They don’t give false hopes. If he’s calling you his or struggling to follow limits, that’s Joel speaking, not his dom alter ego.”
The silence after her words is thick between you. He doesn’t say things in the heat of the moment? You swallow the lead weight that’s made its way from your stomach to your throat, your mind racing through all the things Joel has said to you. My sweet girl. It’s a date. It’s only you. 
“Hey,” Tess says, shaking your hand to bring you back. “This DJ sucks, should we go take over the booth?”
You smile, grateful not only for her words of wisdom but now the way she’s able to stop you from spiraling. “Yes, this is a club AND a friday afterall!”
She smiles at you mischievously as she reaches over the bar for the bottle of rosé and then links arms with you as you both practically skip to the booth. “Owning a club is so fun, I recommend everyone try it,” she proclaims through a laugh.
When you reach the booth she waltzes right up to the DJ, “We need dancing music, it’s Friday, it’s a club, and it’s a fucking party!”
“Sorry, Tess. I can’t do that. Joel wanted background music only.” The DJ, who barely looks old enough to be in a club says, his eyes wandering to the low cut of your dress. A few months ago you probably would have been endeared by that look, but you have a real man now. A real man who loves you, says the sparkling box of feelings. 
Tess snorts and then tuts at the poor guy. “Joel won’t appreciate you ogling what belongs to him like that. So play Best Friend by Saweetie or I’ll be sure to let him know.”
His eyes snap back to his booth set up, one hand held up in defeat, the other pushing a few buttons and then turning the volume dial up. You and Tess laugh, taking sips straight from the bottle as you move to the dance floor. This is what you need, a friend to help you dissect what’s been happening. A friend who understands the dom and sub relationship, but more importantly, understands Joel. Does him having feelings change how you feel about university? You’ve always seen yourself going to Berkeley, that’s been the dream, but now? 
Maybe you should just end this now before your feelings grow too far out of control. The box of feelings laughs. You have no idea how deep you are in this, do you?
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Joel
I’m gonna kill that little shit. Frustration rolls through his body as the music grows louder and as he turns to shoot daggers at the DJ he sees you and Tess. Your beautiful face is lit up in a large smile as you sip directly from a $400 bottle of rosé. His anger dissipates as you move your body with a sexy sway, lost in the music. 
Joel moves towards the bar, never taking his eyes off of you. Your arms stretch over your head as you shake your ass, the slit of your dress exposing your soft thigh. His palm tingles at the thought of how good you feel against him. The smooth warmth of your leg against the rough calluses of his fingers. 
I love you. 
Joel orders a whiskey and then walks towards the edge of the dance floor, his free hand tucked into the pocket of his pants as he watches you. As the song changes your eyes find him and you crook a finger at him, when he shakes his head you stick your bottom lip out and give him big doe eyes. He shakes his head again as Tess hands you the half drank bottle of wine. The pink tone of the wine casts a romantic glow across your exposed chest as you take a small sip. His cock stirs to life in his pants, remembering how those lips felt wrapped around him. He shakes his head at you again and takes a long pull from his drink. You stick your tongue out at him and spin away from him, wiggling your hips while glancing over your shoulder. 
I fucking love you.
You spin back towards him and crook your finger at him again, mouthing ‘please?’. He stays rooted to the spot. Joel doesn’t dance, especially not to this kind of music. His heart flutters as you start to walk over to him, everything moves in slow motion, the sexy way your dress clings to your hips with each movement, the flash of your thigh, the slight bounce of your breasts with each step. It feels like hours have passed by the time you stop in front of him. 
“Please come dance with me.” You say, fluttering your lashes slightly.
He grabs the expensive bottle of wine from you and places it on the tall table beside him. “This is very expensive wine.”
“That was Tess’s doing,” you smile.
“I’m sure it was, because you’re my good girl, aren’t you?” His hand strokes your cheek and he clocks the goosebumps that rise on your skin.
“Please come dance, Mister Miller?”
“I don’t dance, sweet girl.”
You pout again and he wants to suck that perfect bottom lip between his teeth so badly. “What if you just stand there and I dance around you?”
One day he’s going to have to learn how to say no to you, but today won’t be that day. He takes the last sip from his glass and puts it beside the wine. You bounce excitedly on the balls of your feet as he holds a hand out to you. You lead the way, the dance floor now full of people, heading back towards Tess. Joel’s hands come to your hips as you grind against him for the last few bars of the song. 
A slow twang of guitar starts off the next song. Joel spins you to face him. “This I can dance to.” He whispers, pulling you in close, one hand low on your back, the other holding yours to his heart. 
You smile up at him, “Full of surprises, aren’t you, sweet cheeks?”
At this angle the brim of his hat blocks out everything except for you; not that he needs something to block out the rest of the world when he’s around you. I love you.
“For the right woman I can be, freckles.” He says warmly as you melt into his body.
The two of you continue to dance in a comfortable silence. He watches your lips as your tongue glides across them and just as he’s about to lean in and taste you you speak. “I don’t think I said this yet tonight, but congratulations. This is a huge accomplishment and I’m so proud of you and grateful that you brought me into this space. I hope it’s not too bold, but this has done exactly as I hoped. I feel - freer almost, if that makes sense.”
“Good,” his lips press to your forehead. “And thank you.”
Your neck cranes forward, towards the tangled mess of your hands against his chest. Your lips pressing to the knuckle of his thumb. The gesture shoots straight to his heart.  
“I’ve been feeling a bit bad though. You’ve had to go to two events for me this week.” You go to protest but he cuts you off. “What would you be doing tonight if it wasn’t for this?”
You hum in thought. “Any bar where there’s an open mic night or a local band.”
“That so? Do you participate in the open mic?” 
“No, absolutely not, but I enjoy music and watching people do things they’re passionate about.”
He raises an eyebrow at you. “Let’s go then.”
“What?”
“Let’s go. I’ve said thank you to all the VIP’s. Let's go do your thing.”
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You
“Can we do that?” You ask, trying not to let the smile that’s pulling at your cheeks win.
Joel laughs quietly. “It’s my party, I can do what I want. They can all stay, but the longer I stay here the more I’m going to be pulled away. And you’re the only person at this party that I want to talk to.”
That’s Joel speaking, not his dom alter ego.
The boulder is growing in your throat again as you croak, “We’re dressed awfully fancy for a local bar.” 
Joel smiles down at you, his eyes soft. You start memorizing every detail of his face. Everything surrounding the two of you went fuzzy the second he pulled you into his arms. This man, dressed in all black, blurs the edges of everything around you, sucking you in and making you feel like the only person he sees. The slow country song that you didn’t even hear starts to come to end. “I don’t care. Any more concerns?”
He doesn’t care, he’ll never care, he just wants to be with you. The box of feelings that's grown exponentially over this evening inches its way out of the shadows, and you can’t deny it anymore. 
You’re falling in love with Joel Miller. 
“Let’s go,” you say, excitement replacing the lump in your throat.
Joel wastes no time, peeling your bodies apart and pulling you towards the exit. He doesn’t look back as Tommy calls his name, only stopping at the front desk to grab your purse. You feel giddy, almost as if the two of you are doing something wrong. He opens the car door for you and then hops into the driver's seat. You pull out your phone, ignoring him as he comments on your cracked screen being a hazard, and check for open mic nights, finding one in a small bar just a few streets over. 
The bar is small, about ten tables crammed together and then a few stools along the bartop. The stage is only big enough for one person, a few guitars on stands, a stool, and the mic stand. The lighting is low, different neon signs above the bar doing the majority of the work. You’re way overdressed and the looks you get from the packed bar further prove it. 
Joel pulls you through the crowd towards the bar. You were feeling slightly tipsy dancing with Tess, but there is something so sobering about being pulled into Joel's arms. And now that you’ve realized you’re falling in love with him, his next question is very welcome.
“Can I buy you a drink?”
“Yes, please.” You smile sweetly, plastering your front to Joel’s side as he squeezes into the bar. “I’ll just have whatever you’re having.”
“Two old fashioneds,” he says deeply to the bartender. You stifle a giggle, “What?”
“You just give me so much ammunition sometimes.”
He swats at your ass and then squeezes, not caring who may or may not see. It’s exhilarating getting to just be yourselves away from the club and you have a feeling you’ll quickly become addicted to this. “Mighty thin ice, baby.” 
The raspy voiced woman with crazy curly hair finishes her set as Joel pays for the drinks. It appears that most of the crowd was here to see her, a few tables free up and the place doesn’t feel so crowded. The MC for the night gets back onto the stage. 
“Alright, if anyone else wants to show us what they’ve got tonight I’ll be by the bar.” There’s a few cheers and some clapping as the bar empties out drastically, only about twenty people are left. Joel pulls out a chair for you and then sits beside you.  
“Thank you for the drink,” you say, bringing the liquid to your lips and taking a small sip. The warmth of it heats all the way down to your belly, a familiar feeling when you’re around Joel.
“Of course,” he nods, sipping his. “So? Do you come here often?”
You laugh, leaning forward on your arms, noticing the way Joel’s eyes bounce from your face to your breasts; now pushed together for him. “What a line! But no, I have never been here. I kinda like it though.”
The MC’s voice fills the room, welcoming a brave soul to the stage. A tall man in cowboy boots and a shiny buckle joins the stage, carefully picking a guitar from the rack before he begins singing. You can tell by the warmth along the side of your face that Joel is watching you and not the man on the stage. 
“He’s pretty good,” you say, looking back towards Joel. It’s almost unfair how he can still look so sexy in the neon glow of the lights above the bar. 
“Mediocre,” he says with a scoff and sips his drink.
You glance around, “Ok, well you listen to this mediocre man, I’m going to find the washroom.”
You feel Joel’s eyes on your back as you walk away. The gender neutral bathroom is surprisingly clean and you giggle to yourself at the interaction you had once Joel was no longer looking at you. You try to act natural as you head back to the table, sitting down and smiling at Joel.
His eyebrow arches, “What did you do?” 
God you hate how well he knows you. There’s no hiding anything from this man. Regardless, you stifle the fit of giggles that are right on the tip of your tongue, “Nothing! I had to pee. Is that not allowed?”
You raise your glass to your lips, trying to hide the smile as the MC heads back up to the stage. “You did something bad, I can tell.”
“Ladies and gentlemen, we have another performer tonight. Please welcome to the stage Joel Sweet Cheeks Miller.”
Joel shoots a teasing glare at you as you start hollering, “Woo! Sweet cheeks!!” You clap your hands loudly. He lets out a sigh, pushing himself up and then grabbing his drink before heading to the stage. 
He steps up, running his fingers over the guitars before choosing a black acoustic. He puts his Old Fashioned on the stool and loops the guitar over his head. Your body reacts in a way you didn’t think it would. Fire erupts on your belly, you take a sip of your drink to try to put it out but the heat of the liquor only makes it worse. He adjusts the knobs on the guitar after hitting the strings a few times and then looks up at you and crooks two fingers, calling you to him. You obey, practically floating to the man you’re falling in love with. 
Joel bends at the hip, taking his cowboy hat off and placing it on your head. His voice is a gravel filled whisper as he says, “I’m going to spank that pretty little ass of yours in that washroom you were looking for after this.”
“Yes, Mister Miller.” You rasp.
He stands back up, and clears his throat before starting. “This is, well, this is the largest audience I’ve ever played in front of so, go easy on me.”
His hand pushes back the few curls that have fallen onto this forehead before he strums at the guitar. 
If I ever were to lose you I’d surely lose myself
His voice is like stepping into a hot bath, full of warmth and comfort.
Everything I’ve found here I’ve not found by myself
He doesn’t break eye contact with you, only glancing away occasionally when he moves his fingers along the cords. 
Try and sometimes you’ll succeed To make this man of me All my stole missing parts I’ve no need for anymore
You stare up at him, lips slightly parted, as everything falls into place. 
And I believe And I believe ‘cause I can see Our future days Days of you and me
You could go to Berkeley and do great, probably middle of the pack, but you’d reach your goals. You’d become a lawyer and leave school with a handful of job offers. Or…you could stay. You could stay and be the top of your class here. You could stay and continue being with Joel. 
Back when I was feeling broken I focused on a prayer You came deep as any ocean Did something out there hear?
The box of feelings starts to vibrate, making it almost impossible to breathe.
All the complexities and games  No one wins, but somehow they still played All the missing crooked hearts They may die, but in us they live on
You’re staying. You’re going to the University of Texas at Austin School of Law.
And I believe And I believe ‘cause I can see  Our future days  Days of you and me
And just like that, the box of feelings explodes like one of those worms in a can of fake peanuts.
When hurricanes and cyclones raged When winds turned dirt to dust When floods they came, the tides they raise Even closer, became us
This wasn’t part of your plan, but you can’t let this go.
And all the promises at sundown I meant them like the rest
You hear his voice, ‘It’s only you, sweet girl’ and ‘your consent is the most important thing to me.’
All the demons used to come ‘round I’m grateful, now they’ve left.
‘Does it look like I own things that aren’t perfect’, ‘tell me, tell me you’re perfect’.
So persistent in my ways Hey, angel, I’m am here to stay
‘I’m here for you’.
No resistance, no alarms Please, this is just too good to be gone
You’re not falling in love. No, you’re already so madly, deeply, insanely in love with this man that it hurts and feels amazing all at the same time.
And I believe And I believe ‘cause I can see Our future days Days of you and me
You suck in a breath for what feels like the first time since he started singing, your chest practically heaving at the release of emotion you’re experiencing. 
You and me It’s just, you and me
You’re not sure if people are clapping, you can’t hear anything over your own voice in your head screaming out ‘I love you’ over and over again. Joel hops off the stage, his eye flashing onyx as he growls, “punishment time, my sweet girl.”
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Joel
The way your eyes sparkled as he sang and the way you’re following him now, your warm fingers laced in his as he pulled you gently to the bathroom, almost have him convinced that you feel the same way he does.
He locks the door, then jiggles the handle to make sure it’s secure. He’s shared subs with other men and women, he’s used the rooms for people to watch at the club; fuck, one time he even made one sub kneel completely naked at his feet while he sat at the bar of the club. But someone seeing you, something that is all his, ignites a protectiveness that he’s only ever felt for two other women. 
You giggle mischievously as he steps close, plucking his hat off your head and placing it back on his. “What did I say I was going to do to you, baby?” 
He watches your bottom lip disappear between your teeth before you say, “You were going to spank me.” 
He spins you roughly by your hips, pulling your back flush to his chest before walking you over the pedestal style sink. He watches in the mirror at the tell tale signs of your building arousal. Your cheeks flush, the pink creeping down your neck and exposed chest. He sees the way your eyes glass over, cock drunk before even getting it. Joel loves how easy you are to turn on, loves even more that it’s just for him.
No, I just love her.
He stops, the soft light above the mirror lighting the two of you up in yellow glow. The small bathroom is clean, but dark. White and black checkered floor with white walls; hopefully thick walls, but he has ways to keep you quiet while he punishes you. 
His lips come to the exposed side of your neck, hovering just above where he can see your pulse quickening. He hears the hitch of your breath as he inhales your lavender scent. He slips into full dominant mode, keeping his voice a deep growling whisper, “Hands on the edges of the sink, sweet girl.”
You obey him without hesitation, leaning forward and wrapping your hands around the shiny white sink. His eyes lock on yours through the mirror as he fists the soft silk of your skirt. His palms tingle at the thought of getting to feel you soon and his cock jumps at the thought of your heart-shaped ass being pink with his handprints. 
As the skirt crawls to be just above your knees he says, “How many should you get for that little stunt?”
He watches the goosebumps that spread across your skin. “Five?” Your voice is sweet and innocent with the ask.
The skirt starts to hike up higher, the long slit could give him easy access, but he’s playing a role right now, and he knows that the anticipation makes it better so much better for his sub. “Not much of a lesson in five. How about ten.”
It’s not a question and he knows you know it. He’d be lying though if he said he didn’t want to see if you’d fight him just a little bit. Brat taming is not his thing; granted neither is spanking a sub he’s fallen in love with in a bathroom of a dingy bar while wearing a six thousand dollar suit. 
A shiver runs through your body as he exposes your ass. The lacy black thong sends his thoughts into overdrive. God damn, what I wouldn’t give to fuck this woman, just once. 
“Do I have your consent to spank you ten times?”
You nod, “Yes, Mister Miller.”
He takes one of your wrists in his hand and brings it back to hold your skirt up and then repositions himself to be beside you instead of behind you. He takes you in, bent over with your ass exposed, pupils blown out. Your chest rises and falls with shallow, shaky breaths. He’s going to have to keep you quiet.
A hand clamps around your lips and your eyes widen. “If you want me to stop, drop the skirt. Got it?”
You nod into his palm as the first slap fills the room. Your skin is soft and warm under his touch as he makes contact again. By the third strike, his hand around your mouth muffles a squeal. The fourth spank lands on your other cheek and a quiet husky moan rumbles against your lips and his palm.
“You’re supposed to be my sweet girl,” he taunts as another loud slap fills the room. He’s been watching you in the mirror the entire time, enjoying the way you try to keep eye contact; but now, at the halfway mark of your spanking, your eyes are hooded with need. He looks down your ass, grinding his hips into your side at the sight of his bright red handprints tattooed on your cheeks. “Fuck, you look so good all marked up.”
He spanks you again watching the jiggle of your ass and how it ripples down your leg. Your back arches as you whimper quietly. “Atta girl,” he says proudly, smiling to himself. “Three more.”
Joel administers the last three spankings quickly, two on one cheek and one on the other. The sound of his palm on your flesh goes straight to his cock each time, he’s practically rutting into your hip bone to relieve some of the ache. He’s given a lot of spankings in his time as a dom and his body has never reacted this way. I’m so goddamn in love with her, I should keep spanking her for making me feel like that, but if I don’t taste her right now I’m going to go insane. 
His hand grabs your skirt while his other drops from your face. Your breaths come in fast, like you just ran a marathon. He guides you to stand and then spins you around, a hiss leaves your lips, “It’s cold,” you whisper, making eye contact with him. 
He takes his hat off and places it on your head before kneeling down in front of you.
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You
The cool porcelain soothes the delicious burn along your ass, but the burn quickly spreads through your body as the man you’ve realized you’re in love with kneels in front of you. His voice has an edge of desperation as he says, “I need to taste you, please baby.”
What is he doing to me? He has to know what he’s doing to you, right? Did he mean the lyrics of that song or is it just the only song he knows? However, at this moment, you’re just as desperate for him. 
“Yes,” you nod frantically as you speak, “Mister Miller. Please.’
His mouth connects with your lace covered cunt. Licking over the thin fabric, teasing you with light but mind numbing pressure. Joel Miller always looks good, tall and broad, tanned skin that crinkles slightly around his eyes when he smiles, but when he’s on his knees in front of you it ignites something low in your belly. His curly dark hair is soft to the touch and you bring your hand to his scalp now. He groans at the feeling of your hands on him and continues to lick at your clit through your panties. 
The black cowboy hat falls over your eyes, your other hand raises to hold it out of the way. Even with the decision to stay here for law school, you don’t want to miss a second of the salacious acts playing out right in front of you. 
“Oh god, Mister Miller,” you whisper, trying to stay as quiet as possible. 
He moves to kiss at your thigh, hooking a finger around the gusset of your soaked lace. “This fucking garter, sweet girl. Been drivin’ me crazy all night,” he growls between kisses.
He pulls your panties to the side and your nipples harden under your dress as the cool air hits your throbbing pussy. “Fuck,” he practically whimpers. “You smell so good. Taste so good, too.”
His mouth latches around your clit, sucking it between his lips and everything goes fuzzy as the burn in your lower belly starts to spread. “Ohgodohgood, f-fuck.”
The tip of his tongue flicks against your swollen aching clit with each suck and you start to panic over how you’re going to keep quiet while you come. One of his fingers that pulls your thong out of the way teases at your entrance, gathering your arousal, before he pushes it inside of you to the first knuckle. He looks up at you, eyes flushed onyx as he swallows down everything you give him. 
“Mister Miller,” you hum as he pushes his forefinger the rest of the way in. When he curls it forward you release the grip on his salt and pepper curls and clamp your hand around your mouth.
He pulls away, a dimple carving out his cheek as he smirks. “Feels that good?” He flicks gently at your clit and you moan in agreement into your hand. “Good fuckin�� girl.”
Joel sucks your clit back into his mouth, pumping his thick finger against the spongy spot that makes you melt and the heat bursts into tingling pleasure as your orgasm washes over you. Your eyes roll into the back of your head as you fight to keep quiet, grinding your hips unabashedly against Joel’s face. He’s relentless with his ministrations and you bite at your palm as another wave rolls through you. 
The spasms of your pussy around his finger slow and you’re finally composed enough to drop your hand, grabbing his shoulder as your knees threaten to give out. Joel slips his finger out from you, placing light, lingering kisses on your mound before standing. His hands find your hips, holding you steady. 
“Kiss me,” you slur, feeling drunk off the pleasure.
Your arms loop around his neck as he kisses you. His lips taste like you and you lick at the heady sweetness. You slant your head, kissing him deeper. His body goes soft, relaxing into the kiss. You could do this with him forever, and for once it’s not the box of feelings saying that. The contents of that box have coated your entire brain with the love it housed for the man you’re not even supposed to know exists. The two of you break apart, both panting for air. You break the silence first.
“Take me to the club.”
“We can’t go back there. I’ll just get sucked back into the crowd.” His nose runs up and down yours, dark chocolate brown eyes never leaving yours. 
“I need more, Mister Miller. Please, take me.”
“Shit,” he huffs. “Come with me.”
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Joel
This is so incredibly stupid, he thinks as he pulls into his neighborhood. The moment the two of you got back into his car you leaned over onto his shoulder and closed your eyes. He should take you to your apartment. You must be exhausted from all the studying and working you’ve been doing. Plus, he kept you out late for two nights. He pulls up onto his driveway, and the slight bump from the curb causes you to stir. He parks in the driveway and watches as you blink and register where you are. 
“I can take you home if you want.”
“No, I want to be with you.” Your eyes widen and you start to do that thing where you ramble, only to dig yourself deeper.
Joel chuckles and then leans forward, pressing your lips to your forehead to stop you. “I knew what you meant, baby girl.”
He gets out of the car and then comes around to open your door. When you left the bar tonight you tried to open your door, again, and he scolded you gently. He smiles to himself that you’ve listened finally, that or you’re just too tired and he should really be taking you home. But when he helps you out of the car and meets your gaze again you look anything but tired. Need and arousal flood his system as he takes you in, lips slightly parted and eyes dancing around his face. Your words from the bathroom ring in his ears. I need more, Mister Miller.
He snaps, lips slamming against yours, your hands immediately finding the curls at the nape of his neck; the only hair you can reach because of the cowboy hat still proudly perched on top of his head. He lifts you, moaning at the feeling of your toned thighs wrapping around his waist. He moves on instinct, closing the car door and walking into the house while the two of you fervently kiss in a mix of tongue and teeth. You nip at his bottom lip as he walks into the marble foyer. He closes the garage entry door and presses you against it, sucking your bottom lip into his mouth, His cock is painfully hard behind his pants.
“I need you,” you whine after your lip is free from his mouth.
“What do you need?”
You kiss at his neck, hands moving to loosen his tie. “I need you to fuck me, please, Mister Miller.”
I love you. 
He keeps you pinned to the door, his one hand grabbing yours and pinning them above your head. How many times is he going to have you in the position, fighting against what you’re begging for? Hopefully, it never stops.
“My sweet girl, you know I can’t do that.” It physically hurts him to turn you down.
You pout at him before speaking, “Then just be naked with me, I need to feel your skin on mine. Please?”
He kisses you again and starts to move the two of you towards the stairs. Between kisses, he says, “What happened to that shy girl who couldn’t even tell me she wanted me to dominate her?” 
You laugh against his lips, “She’s been corrupted.”
“I’m a bad man,” he hums with a laugh and walks up the stairs with you plastered to his chest; one hand around the globes of your ass, the other tucking your head into his neck so he can see where he’s stepping. The moment you reach the top of the stairs he pulls your face back to his to kiss you again.
“This is where it happened,” you say, as he passes the office. 
“Where what happened?” He says, pulling back to look at you, his eyebrows draw in in confusion and the black Stetson he forgot he was wearing falls forward slightly. You take the hat off his head, looking at him all wide-eyed and amused. 
“The corruption,” you say with a wink. Joel snorts in response and then his lips are back on yours. He has missed having this mix of passion and humour with someone.
When he passes over the threshold of his bedroom he places you on your feet. He told himself he wouldn’t ever have you here. No, not told, promised, because he knew what having here would mean. But you made him fall in love with you anyway. The air in the bedroom feels thicker, and his breathing quickens as he looks at you. The only light that trickles in is from the hallway. He takes in your sparkling eyes, your lips, puffy from his kisses and light nips; the perfect curls of your hair are slightly dishevelled and truthfully - he has never found you more beautiful. 
I love you. 
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You
Butterflies assault your stomach as you stare at Joel. He takes the hat from you and tosses it gently on the foot of the bed behind you. The room is deafeningly silent, only the sounds of both of your quickened breathing and thundering heartbeats fill the void. You stand frozen, the heels of your strappy black sandals sinking into the plush carpet of his bedroom. You remember when you carried his sheets to the washing machine just a few weeks ago, being surrounded by the delicious scents of ash and leather. You had no idea who Joel was then, the man in this house was just a fantasy in your mind. You wait for him to make the first move. Finally, his thick fingers find the zipper along your side. 
“Are you sure about this?” He says, his voice is hoarse, and you can tell he’s nervous. You wish knowing that would calm you, but truthfully it just makes your heart burst even more. This morning, the thought of anyone, but especially Joel, having feelings for you was ridiculous, but now you aren’t so sure it’s that absurd after all.
“Yes, Mister Miller. I just - I need…” he watches you patiently. Playing with the small metal zipper pull. 
“Don’t be shy, sweet girl. Just tell me what you need.” 
“I need to feel your skin against mine. Please.” 
He pulls at the zipper as his lips meet your neck. “I love when you ask so politely. My good girl, aren’t you?” 
“Mm-hmm,” you hum, fighting the sway of your legs to stay upright. 
If he’s calling you yours, that’s Joel speaking. Not his dom alter ego. 
Joel’s fingers come to the thin straps along your shoulders. The warmth of his hands against your skin causes you to shiver. He drags the straps down your arms and then frowns at the tape holding the dress to your chest. He tugs gently and you gasp at the pull of the tape. Before you can protest, the sting is soothed by his lips, kissing the sore, pink skin. He does the same thing after tugging the other side and the silky black dress pools at your feet. 
You watch the muscles of Joel’s throat flex as he swallows, eyes trailing down your body. “Turn around.”
You spin on the balls of your feet, careful to not catch your heels on the carpet. “So you need to feel me, is that right, sweet girl?” 
You nod your head. “Yes, Mister Miller.” 
One of his hands comes to gently rest on your shoulder and instinctively lean into his touch. His fingers whirl around as he traces down your shoulder blade and then back up to your neck. “I can’t believe how beautiful you looked tonight. I kept getting pulled away from you every time I tried to get back to you. It was killing me to be away from you.” 
You let your eyes close as his fingers run down your spinal column. You feel his heat leave your back and then his lips sponge kisses along the globes of your ass, his hands holding your hips possessively.
“You were such a good girl tonight. Outside of the little singing stunt,” he says between kisses. Every spot that took the punishment of his palm is given attention. “But you paid for that, didn’t you sweet girl?” 
You giggle quietly before saying. “Yes, Mister Miller. Thank you, but I can’t promise I won’t do it again.” 
“Good,” he laughs, standing up behind you. You hear the unmistakable sound of his silk tie being pulled off. “Because I don’t want you to ever stop teasing me.” 
He tosses the tie towards his dresser. Before you know it, he’s spun you around and lifted you into his arms again. Your body knows just what to do, your legs clamping around his waist on their own. He captures the squeak that leaves your lips with his mouth. Nothing makes you melt faster than the feel of Joel’s lips on yours. They’re soft but firm, his tongue warm against yours as he takes what he wants from you and there’s no way you’re not going to let him. 
He sits you on the dresser and plants his hands on each side of you as your hands move to work the buttons on his shirt. His lips never leave yours. 
“I need you,” you whine as you get the first few buttons undone. The heat of his chest skimming against your fingertips has a fresh wave of arousal coat your already soaked pussy. 
Joel moans needily at your confession as he pulls back slightly. He rips at his shirt, buttons burst before he tears it off and stands shirtless in front of you. Your eyes trail down his strong broad chest, stopping on the prominent bulge behind his pants. Your hands fly to his belt. He watches you with rapt fascination as you work the buckle and then the button of his pants. 
As you move to the zipper, his fingers go to the lace of your panties. He growls as he splits the fabric. 
“Joel!” You gasp. “Those were thirty dollars!” 
He grabs your leg, placing the ball of your foot on his chest,unbuckling your shoe. “I just ruined an $800 dress shirt. I’ll buy you more.” 
The shoe hits the floor and he grabs your other foot, his eyes locking to yours as he commands, “And it’s Mister Miller. I’ve been lenient with you. Another mistake and you will be punished - severely.” 
For such harsh words, he’s being so careful with the small golden buckle on your shoe. “Yes, Mister Miller,” you say sweetly, batting your lashes innocently. 
“Feet up on the dresser. Spread your legs for me, sweet girl.” 
You lean back slightly, hands being used as an anchor behind you, placing your heels on the edge of the dresser. Cool air hits your drenched cunt and you fight yet another shiver. You’re spread wide for Joel, every single thing on display for him. He looks at you like you hung the moon and your heart flips behind your ribs. You suddenly feel like you did the first time the two of you spoke in his kitchen, his gaze is too much, too intense, and it becomes nearly impossible for you to not yell out that you love him, so you look away, your eyes falling to his strong chest.
“Eyes up here,” he murmurs as he takes the smallest step back. 
Your mouth goes dry as you look back up at him. In your peripheral you can see his hands going to his belt, the sound of the buckle jingling tempts you to look down. “Atta girl, stay right here with me.”
You stay in his warm coffee brown pools, flecks of gold and honey appearing as the soft light of his bedroom hits him. I love you.
He bends slightly, his pants and boxers falling to the ground. You try to swallow once, twice, never leaving his gaze as the rest of his clothing comes off. You swear that time stops, the two of you are suspended in a moment that’s all yours. He steps forward and you can feel the heat of his skin against your entire body, you melt into his warmth.
“You want to look, don’t you?” he taunts.
“Yes, Mister Miller,” you hum.
 The soft tip of his cock gently nudges at your clit and you gasp. “Look down, baby.”
You peel your eyes away from his, looking down to see where his body caresses against yours. The tip of his impossibly hard cock, precum glistening as it leaks for you, pressing lightly to your soft and swollen clit. His piercing lays flat against his pelvis and you remember what he said about there being benefits to it. You try to memorize the sight in front of you. As filthy and debauched as this is, it’s also passionate and beautiful; it's the epitome of Mister Miller and your time with him. 
“Fuck, sweet girl. Your pussy is so pretty…and soft.” You watch as he wraps his hand around the thick base of his cock and rocks his hips. His cock slides easily along the warm folds of your drenched cunt, you swear you can feel the ridge of the underside of the tip as he says,  “Who has you this turned on? Huh, sweet girl?”
“You,” you whimper as your legs start to tremble.
“God damn,” his voice now matching yours, “How’d I get so lucky.”
This time you know he’s not asking you a question, yet you hum in agreement as his cock slides back over your clit, the swollen nub relishing in the friction and the feel of him against you. You hope he’s going to keep going, you want to feel him inside of you more than you need oxygen. Instead, his other hand slips between the two of you, his strong digits teasing at your entrance. He slides along your clit again as one of his fingers pushes inside of you. 
“Is this ok?” He whispers.
“Yesyes - fuuuuck, Mister Miller.” A bead of pre cum lands on your mound at the sound of pleasure passing your lips. 
“Such a good girl for me. Already learning how to take me so well.” His finger slips out as a second joins it. “She’s begging for it, tryin’ to suck me in. So tight, my gorgeous sweet girl.”
Your foreheads meet and it all becomes too much again. You close your eyes as his fingers finally fill you. “Don’t stop,” you whine desperately.
His hips pick up their pace, pressing harder along your most sensitive spots. You get that floating feeling again. He’s so close to exactly how you need him, how you want him. The voice from your now-exploded box of feelings adds, “For the rest of your life”. 
You keep your eyes closed, sparks of pleasure occasionally flickering behind them. You’re getting closer to your high with every press of his body against yours. You know if you opened your eyes you’d be able to fall over the edge, but you aren’t ready to be done imagining how it would look if his cock was doing what his fingers were right now. 
“I can feel you’re getting close, baby. Clenchin’ my fingers so hard.” His voice is full of admiration, not a tone you’re used to hearing in moments like this. You used to think that you had a first love, and while none of your exes ever mistreated you, they also didn’t look at you or speak to you the way Joel Miller does. 
His pace increases again as he curls his fingers forward, your body jolts up with the newly applied pressure behind your clit. You grip his shoulders to ground yourself, the inside of your thighs start to ache, but you’re not going to let your feet fall from the dresser. Truthfully, the burning ache only seems to intensify the pleasure at the apex of your thighs.
“Open your eyes, watch how good your pussy looks against me.”
“I ca-can’t. ‘M so close. I don’t - oh fuck - don’t wanna be done.” 
“Just because you come, it doesn’t mean we are done, sweet girl. I’m not ready to be done. I want you to come as many times as you need to.” He presses his cock down against your clit harder as he speaks.
Before you can even take your next breath your orgasm washes over you. It hits hard and for a second you think your throat is constricted, but just as the wall of your pussy relaxes and begins to flutter, a euphoric scream frees itself from your airway. You start to pant, your body falling back to rest on the wall behind you. Joel falls forward with you, and just when you think you’re about to come down from your high, the pressure at this angle sends the strongest wave of your orgasm through you and you begin to gush around his fingers. 
“That’s my good fuckin’ girl. Soak me.” Pride swells in his eyes as you chant his dominant name like a prayer. Your breathing starts to even and he slows his fingers and hips, ensuring not to send you into any overstimulation. I’m not ready to be done yet. He slowly removes his fingers, then wraps his arm around you to pull you up. Your feet fall from the dresser and the relief your muscles feel causes you to let out a pleasurable sigh.
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Joel
He needs more, so much more, but waits for you - taking a few slow breaths in time with yours. When he sees you coming back down to earth he slides the tip of his cock up and down. At this angle, there’s no risk of accidentally slipping so he runs himself along every part he can reach. 
“Kiss me,” you mumble, bringing your face towards his. He captures your lips in a sweet kiss, a kiss he’s sure you can tell isn’t the way a dom kisses his sub. He realizes at that moment that he’s never kissed you that way. No, he’s always kissed you with everything he had, giving himself to you piece by piece. 
More. His inner voice growls. I’ll never come back up for air now.
Joel whispers your name between kisses and you both pull back just enough to see each other's faces. “When we got here, you said you wanted me to fuck you. Do you still want that?”
He watches your eyes dance around him. Confusion, fear, excitement and arousal line yours before you pull back from him. He scolds himself for saying it. Of course you’re going to panic, this is supposed to be a safe space. He set a complete ban on sex before he even met with you the first time. It’s right there, in his dom profile; because that’s what he is, he’s your dom. You can come here and beg for it, because you know it’s a safe place where it won’t happen. 
He prepares himself for you to slap him or yell at him. Instead, you say, “Mister Miller, I don’t want you to do anything that you don’t want to. This was a hard limit for you, and where I very much want to, I don’t want you to break any promise to yourself.”
He let his eyelids fall shut, for the first time, he doesn’t want to be Mister Miller. He wants to be Joel. 
I love you.
Goosebumps break out along his skin as you drag your hands up to his neck, fingers scraping along the back of his scalp. “Talk to me.”
“Just call me Joel,” he says through the boulder that’s lodged in his throat. 
He feels your warm lips meet his cheek, kissing him softly before you clear your throat quietly and then whisper into his ear. “Please fuck me, Joel. Fuck me or I might die or go insane.”
“Again,” he growls.
“Fuck me, Joel.” You say, louder and with more conviction than the last time.
He scoops you off the dresser, your soft naked thighs tightening around his waist and he steals your squeal with his lips, kissing you hard with hurried passion. He’ll worry tomorrow about what getting you to call him Joel means, all he knows at this moment is that he needs to hear that you need him just as much as he needs you. 
  He lays you on the bed, pressing down into your warmth. He can feel how wet you are as you grind up into him. His lips grow hungrier, kissing every bit of your face and neck he can reach, relishing in the feel of your hands running up and down his biceps, your short nails scraping his skin occasionally. 
“Are you sure you want to do this?” He asks before fusing his lips to your neck.
Your feet fall to the bed and you arch into him. “Yes, Joel.” 
He raises to his knees, unclipping the chains around your body and then working with you to slip your ruined panties off. He reaches over to the bedside table to get a condom, using his teeth to peel the foil open and sliding it on. You’re always completely at his mercy, but this time he’s wholly at yours. One of his hands grips your hip, the other wraps around his cock as he takes in all your soft smooth skin, and memorizes the constellations that your freckles make along your body. Your breasts heave with each shallow inhale and shake beautifully with each exhale. Finally, his gaze meets yours, your eyes filled with every emotion he’s feeling. 
“There’s no safeword anymore, my sweet girl. If you tell me to stop, I will.”
You nod as he lines himself up, the warmth of your tight entrance calling to him. Joel pushes gently, your hips rising to encourage him. His balls tighten at the feeling of you wrapped tightly around the tip. 
“So tight, sweet girl.” He falls forward, both forearms beside your head to keep his weight off of you. 
The two of you rock in tandem, working more of him into you. “Oh god, Joel. More,” you moan.
There was a time when he told you to only call him Joel, it was the only name you could use that would keep this side of him from taking over. But now, hearing your voice say his name in the needy little vibrato, it’s having the same effect as when you call him Mister Miller. He’s sure you know exactly how he feels, and he’s now certain that you feel the same way. 
Your hips grind into his and pleasure spikes through his entire body. He’s fully seated inside of you now, your tight pussy squeezing him sweetly. He buries his face into your neck, lavender hypnotizing him. Everything he can see, hear, smell and feel is you. His sweet girl. 
“More, please, more.” You whine, circling your hips. 
His jaw flexes as he fights his body’s instinct to come. He pushes down with his hips to still you. “I need a minute, sweet girl. Shit - you feel too good.”
Your soft giggle at his confession causes your pussy to flex tighter around him. A shiver runs up his spine, “Baby, please don’t. Just stay still, please.”
He pulls himself away from your neck, his hips flexing forward. He watches your eyes widen as his piercing presses right where it’s meant to. You gasp and clench his hips with your thighs. He smirks, now flooded with desire and determination to fuck you until neither of you can walk. 
“Ready?” He says, his voice deep.
“I think - Joel, fuck - I might…” 
His animalistic side kicks in, he pulls out to the tip and then slams back in, swivelling his hips so his piercing stimulates your clit, which he’s sure still must be sensitive from earlier, before pulling back and repeating. 
“Think you might what?” He demands, keeping his gaze locked on yours as he fucks you.
“I’m gonna - gonna come.” You moan between thrusts.
“So fuckin’ needy. Aren’t you?” You met each of his thrusts with a flick of your hips. Even with the condom, you feel better than he could have ever imagined. All the things he wants to do to you run through his mind; he wants to take you from behind, or watch your tits bounce as you ride him, he pictures you strapped to the spanking bench in his room at the club. But right now he just wants to worship every inch of you. He wants to show you how you should be treated and loved. 
The words are on the tip of his tongue. I love you. 
He shifts his weight, one arm hooking under your leg so he can take you deeper. “Sweet girl, I want to feel you come on my cock.” 
“Fuckfuck don’t stop.” He peppers your jawline with kisses. 
“Kiss me,” he whispers. He tilts his head, parting his lips for your warm tongue. Joel starts fucking you faster. He breaks the kiss, “Come for me, baby girl.” 
“Are we going to be done if I do?” You ask. 
“No, baby.” He huffed a laugh, his hand pushing the hair away that’s started to stick to your forehead. “Never. I’m never going to be done with you.” 
“Joel - oh my god.” He feels you getting tighter and tries to distract his thoughts. He’s not ready to be done, but he’s not young anymore so he can’t risk finishing quite yet. “Your - your piercing.”
“Let go,” he says into your lips. He feels it then, that infinitesimal tightening of your pussy around his length before it begins to flutter. Your whine fills his head. He watches the pleasure fill your face, he swears he can see the clouds that form around your vision as you look deep into his eyes and succumb to your high. Your soft body quivers beautifully underneath him, “That’s my girl.”
The primal need to fuck you hard into his mattress simmers his skin. Not yet, not this time. She’s too perfect right now. 
“Tell me how it feels, sweet girl.”
Between pants you moan out, “So good, Joel.”
Your body begins to slow beneath him as your orgasm crests and he gives himself a mental pep talk to hold on just a bit longer. His cock is achy with the need to come, and it’s going to be slightly tortuous to stop, but he wants to take you at least one more time before you both fall into what is sure to be an exhausted sleep. 
His lips come to your shoulder. “I love fucking you. Your pussy was made for me.”
Your nails scrape at his back. “It’s t-too much. Fuck. Sorry…sorry.”
Joel stills his hips, releasing your leg and pushing his weight off of you, but doesn’t pull away. Your eyes are clenched tight, “Look at me, sweet girl.”
Your eyes pop open, pupils blown in pleasure and love. There’s no denying it now, he knows you feel the same. “Don’t be sorry.”
Your cheeks flush slightly, “But you’re not, you didn’t yet.”
“If you can’t say it, you shouldn’t be doing it.”
“You didn’t get to come yet,” you whisper.
“I don’t want to yet. I’m going to let you catch your breath and then you’re going to climb onto my lap and really learn what that piercing can do.” He winks and then gives you a small smile before slipping out of you. He rolls onto the mattress beside you, removing the condom and dropping it into the waste bin beside the bed. 
He hears you hiss, panic clogs his throat as he whips back towards you. “What’s wrong?”
You nod towards his almost impossibly hard cock. “That looks painful.”
“I’m ok, sweet girl.” He pulls you in, melting at the way your body molds so perfectly to his. He kisses your forehead, “You’re incredible.”
“You too.” You nuzzle deeper into him, your warm breath hitting his chest and your leg wrapping around his. 
There’s a few minutes of comfortable silence before you speak, “Hey Joel?”
“Mm-hmm?”
“I think we should ditch the condom.” He pulls back as you look up at him, “You have a vasectomy. I have an IUD. We had recent test results as per the club's rules.”
Joel swallows. Not wearing a condom, even though he had his vasectomy over a decade ago, has never been an option. Another rule of JMKink is that you have to be wearing a condom during all penetrative activities; even if the person you’re fucking is your husband or wife. It hits Joel then that the only person he’s felt that intimately before is Tiffany. 
“Are you sure? I know the chances of getting pregnant are very slim, but you got into law school today, I don’t want to risk anything.”
“I’m sure,” you hum. “I’m also sure that you should put that cowboy hat back on for the next round.”
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chris-hallelujah · 3 days ago
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Have You Ever Tried This One? | m.s.
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Summary: The triplets attend singer!reader's concert and Matt gets catches her eye from the crowd.
Part 2 Here!!
Warnings: insinuating sexual acts, talks of sex positions
Word Count: 640 words
My Master List
Join my tag list : @matthewsroses
Divider by: @anitalenia
A/N: This is inspired by this post by @delilahsturniolo . Thank you for letting me use your work as inspiration! Also thank you to @chestersturniolo for helping me find her piece. I do not give consent for my work to be reposted, rewritten, or shared on this platform or any other.
<3 - Billie
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The lights in the arena darkened around the group standing at the barricade. Matt, Nick, Chris, and Chris' girlfriend cheered along with everyone else as you appeared in a spotlight on the stage. "Boston! It's so good to see you!" you exclaimed into the microphone causing the crowd to roar. Matt practically had hearts for eyes as you sauntered around the stage in small, sparkly outfits. Sure, he had heard your music and seen you in photos before, but there was something different about seeing you in front of him. Chris and Nick quickly took notice of Matt's in awe state and chuckled.
After a few numbers you had reached the interactive section of your concert. Oftentimes you chose a person in the crowd who was dancing the most or seemed to be having the best time. It was never actually based on your physical attraction to someone, until this time. You had been eyeing the three identical boys in the front row. One specifically caught your eye. You'd seen these boys online before and while you didn't know much about them, you knew which one you wanted. He seemed a bit more quiet than the other two and was staring at you like you were glowing. "Girls, girls, come here!" you spoke into the mic, gesturing for two of your dancers to come over. "Do you see that guy right there? Yes, the triplet but that one, with the pink t shirt," you pointed in Matt's direction. He froze as the camera panned to him for the crowd to see on the big screen. Everyone went wild causing Nick and Chris to bust out laughing. The lights throughout the arena flashed red and blue as a siren sound played throughout the stadium. You knelt down in front of him, "hey there, what's your name?" You cooed into the microphone, batting your eyelashes.
"M-Matthew!" he stammered nervously as Nick filmed the interaction.
"Oh Matthew, I'm afraid you're under arrest. You are just way too hot!" You giggled into the microphone, "Will you take these sweetie?" The security guard took the fuzzy pink handcuffs from your hand and held them over the barricade for Matt to grab. His blush was iminent as he took them with a smile and a nod. You stood back up, winking at him. "There are so many thoughts running through my head, Matthew. Dirty, dirty - oh! my clothes are falling off for you, Matthew!" You laughed stepping out of your dress revealing a shiny pink body suit. The intro of the song began and you danced and sang with your crew. "Whole package, babe, I like the way you fit. God bless your dad's genetics," You sang, gesturing to the triplets with a giggle. Every once in a while throughout the song you'd shoot Matt a look or a wink. "You make me wanna make you fall in love. Oh, late at night, I'm thinking 'bout you, ah-ah. Wanna try out some freaky positions? Hey Matthew, have you ever tried this one?" You sat on your knees with one arm in the air doing a lasso motion to represent cowgirl. Matt about fell over and Chris was a laughing mess next to him. His brothers could not believe what they were witnessing.
That song ended and the show continued. A few songs later, the triplets and Chris' girlfriend were approached by someone from your team. "Matt?" Your manager asked, "You've all been requested backstage after the show." She smiled handing them all passes and getting back to work.
"No way!" Chris' girlfriend jumped up and down.
"Dude, your charm got us connections!" Nick laughed patting Matt on the shoulder. Matt stood staring at the backstage passes in awe. He couldn't believe that you had noticed him in the first place but also to invite him backstage??
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whatifitis · 19 hours ago
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♡ Cursing The Daylight - LN 4 ♡
Summary: Lando hates knowing you never sleep well so when he believes he's figured out why, he makes it his mission to save his sleepy girlfriend from sleep deprivation.
Author's note: A little blurb thing I wrote at 2 am. I tried my best 😭
WC: 1045
CW: Lando being a bit dumb and the sweetest person ever, fluff
You were currently cursing the daylight, watching as a blue bird flew past your window.
Fucker 
It was yet another sleepless night in your apartment. You continued to stare at your alarm clock, waiting for it to go off, a little reminder that if you were capable of sleeping properly, you’d still have 5 more minutes of sleep. 
For most of your life, especially in recent years, you’ve never been able to get a full night's rest. You’d always end up tossing and turning for hours, as well as waking up about 7 times a night. Every day you would feel irritated and restless due to your lack of sleep. 
However, whenever you slept over at your boyfriend's house, you always managed to get a good night's sleep. You and your boyfriend, Lando, have been together for about 5 months. The first night you two had spent together, was the first time you’d been able to sleep well. You woke up bright and early and you felt amazing, like nothing could stop you. 
Over the course of your relationship, Lando came to be aware of your inability to sleep well most nights. Whenever you would sleep in your own apartment, Lando would receive mass amounts of texts from you, all about how you slept terribly and that you either needed a nap or many coffees. 
Lando, being the ever so lovely person he is, picked up on something. The only times you would get a good night's sleep, waking up and not needing to complain about anything and everything, was when you slept at his place. 
The mattress! The boy thought, she sleeps better at mine cause my mattress is fucking mint. 
Upon realizing this, Lando goes and orders the same exact mattress he has, and has it sent to yours. He thought it’d be a nice surprise for you so that you can get a goodnight sleep every night. Another plus would be that you guys are coming up on your 6 month anniversary, this counts as a gift right?, thinks Lando. 
The day Lando gets an email stating that the mattress was out for delivery, he books it to your place, wanting to be there to see your reaction to his gift and so that he could help you bring it in and set it up. 
Lando arrives at your apartment, greeted by you with a massive smile and sparkling eyes. He wastes no time in pulling you to him by your hips and wrapping his arms around your torso. As you wrap your arms around his neck you say, “As much as I love seeing you, what are you doing here? I thought we were going to meet up later tonight for movie night.”
As Lando pulls away to look at you, the postman has just arrived. “That’s why.” he says, smiling cheekily and pointing to the truck behind him. 
The both of you watch as the postman begins to unload the mattress from the vehicle, before Lando jumps in and helps the man drag the mattress to the door of your apartment. 
Whilst Lando and the man bring the mattress into your apartment, you stand there dumbfounded. 
What the actual fuck is going on? The only thing I’ve ordered to my apartment is a new book and I don’t think the book is that big? Wait, did I order the right thing?!
As soon as the box is in your living area, you confront Lando, “Lan, my love, my gorgeous boy… what the fuck?” you ask, pointing at the big ass box in your living area. 
Your Lan stands there next to the box, all but swaying as he stands and gives you the biggest smile he could plaster on his face. 
The cheeky fuck. 
“It’s a mattress!” he says as he poses next to it, adding a pose for effect. 
“A mattress?” you ask.
“A mattress.” 
After a moment of silence, where you contemplated whether to strangle him or take his credit card away from him, you ask “Why?”
“Cause, you’re always tired and you never sleep well unless you’re at my place. So I figured out why! It’s because you find my mattress to feel so much better and comfier. I even ordered the same bed sheets I have, but I got yours in green since it’s your favorite color. They should be here tomorrow though so for tonight you can spend the night with me or we can use your old sheets.” he proposes, smiling so wide it makes your heart melt from the sweetness that you don’t deserve. 
He gets you the same mattress he has in his home, for your home. 
“I sleep better at yours because you’re there. Not because of the mattress, you muppet!” you exclaim. 
You watch as Lando’s face immediately drops, “what?” he asks. He’s truly been stunned with this information, “What’d you mean it’s not because of the mattress? You mean to tell me I haven’t helped solve your sleeping issues?! I thought I was smarter than all the doctors you’ve seen for this issue!”
You can’t help but laugh at your boyfriend's statement. 
“Gorgeous, you thought that of all the doctors I’ve seen… that none of them have thought that I was sleeping on an uncomfortable mattress?” 
Lando just stood there silent, blankly staring at a wall, likely contemplating all his life choices. 
“Fuck. So, do you not want the mattress? Seems like a hassle to return.” he states as he scratches the back of his neck, wondering how he’s going to return the heavy ass box. “Wait, you sleep better when you’re around me?” he looks at you, somewhat shocked. 
You walk up to him, taking his hands in yours and making him look you in the eyes, “Gorgeous, in the time we’ve been together, we’ve slept on couches and several different mattresses. And I always sleep well no matter where or what we are sleeping on. I sleep better because I’m with you, I feel safe with you.”
“Oh… oh!” he giggles a bit. Red starts to lightly color his face, he’s blushing, “That’s nice.”
You don’t think you’ve met anyone more awkward than this man, but you love him because of that, not in spite of it. 
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mondaymelon · 2 days ago
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— pocky for the malipo ⭑.ᐟ
⟶ ( kinich x gn!reader )
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— in which... hey, does this even count as a kiss...?
— speedran this filler post for pocky day + kinch's birthday.. its single day too LMAO the coincidences are simply uncanny ..
— starts out w mualani + kinich for context , fluff !! reader likes sweets,, ...tw... use of the word orbs..
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“awwww, c’mon!! it’ll be fun, i promise…”
mualani jumps up and down vigorously, her expression slowly growing more and more dejected. “the traveler told me all about it- this otherworldly tradition, y’know, with those little sweet stick thingies, they even gave me a box! it’d be a reallll big shame to waste ‘em, and wouldn’t it be super cool to do?”
recently, mualani had grown very invested in the idea of some date called “pocky day.” these sorts of random hyperfixtations happened just about every other day, but this time the obsession lasted a linger longer than most, all because of some eavesdropping on the traveler, who offhandedly mentioned it in some conversation… anyway, now that the day itself had arrived, 11/11, she was more excited than ever.
“just onnncee..! pretty please, kinich… xilonen? sharky??” seeing that no one here was willing, except for sharky, who wagged his tail in approval, mualani let out a wail.
kinich stared at her with a tired gaze, sighing slowly. “well, i don’t see how-”
“oHHH my aRCHONS, kinich, how are you so BORING?? when i contracted with this stupid guy, YOU, i thought itd be a little more fun than rotting in a cave ALLL day long but APPARENTLY not!!? live a little uGHHGH, you emo little ‘oooohh look at me im so distant and mysterious’ shut UPPP…” ajaw popped out of nowhere, face red and pixelated hands waving back and forth angrily. “c’mooon, surely you aren’t stupid and blind enough to see that this is the literally PERFECt opportunity to smoochy smoochy kiss kiss that one person you've been OGLING with those  big ORBS of yours huh????”
kinich opened his mouth to say something, but then paused. mualani watched with bated breath, squeezing sharky in her hands in anticipation, eyes sparkling, gaze screaming “oh????”. 
“...well… i guess… hmph, even someone like ajaw makes a point sometimes, huh…?” kinich coughed into his fist sheepishly, a barely noticeable blush dusting his cheeks. “though, i’m not ‘ogling’ them at all, ajaw- it’s- well, i’m just observing them. for a commission.”
“suuuUUUReeee palllll, whatever you say- YOU REALLY DIDN’T THINK I’D SAY SOMETHING LIKE THAT, DID YOU??? BLABLABLA LALALA I’m RIGHT AHAHAHH THATS RIGHT IM RIGHT IM-”
kinich swatted ajaw out of the air, in the way one would with a buzzing fly. he flew through the air, disappearing into the horizon with a sparkle.
“...ahem. mualani, i’ll be heading out now.” kinich turned around calmly, as if he hadn’t just committed battery. "if i may, could i get one of those ‘pocky’ you were talking about? i’ll repay you.”
"hehe... no need for repayment, just tell me how it goes later!" mualani, smug and beaming, handed over one of the boxes.
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..and so the time had come.
"kinich?" glancing up from your work, you flashed him a smile. "what's the matter?"
well, it wasn't as if the saurian hunter didn't see you out often- he did. this little nook you had in the scions of canopy was, as kinich put it, "on the convenient way back" for all of his missions, and so the male found most evenings swinging by (pun intended).
no, him coming wasn't the issue here. but kinich had been uncharacteristically.. avoidant of your gaze. for the past five minutes he had been there, arms crossed and leaning against the door frame like they do in those inazuman light novels, he'd been staring at a crack in the floorboards. and to make matters more concerning, he had something strange in his hands too: some sort of box that he kept flipping around with his fingers.
"hey. kini'. we're both not great at words, so just tell me and get.. well, whatever it is. you wanna say over with." at the mention of his nickname, kinich perked up, clearing his throat.
"ah, that..."
ohh, so there was the problem. the eerily quiet atmosphere was because ajaw wasn't present... pause, now you were even more worried. kinich had somehow gotten ajaw off his ass?? unthinkable????
"is it an emergency? fuck, are we all going to die? tell me this type of thing earlier, kini', i need to pack all my-"
"what? no- i, mualani.. she, no, there's this holiday, today. the traveler mentioned it, and i thought it'd be fun to try out.. you like sweets too, so. here." kinich unearthed some sort of... stick? was he really trying to feed you sticks? c'mon now, you weren't that stupid-
"i can read your gaze. it's not like that. here, it's chocolate, just- hah..." kinich sighed, eyebrows pinched together, wearing the expression of someone watching everything go wrong. "give it a taste?"
you eyed him skeptically, before taking the stick out of his hands and taking a bite.
"...sweet."
"yeah?"
"not a stick."
"...yes."
"...give me another."
"not so fast, we need to play the game first." kinich took one of the sticks and put it into his mouth, all of a sudden looking a lot more... guilty? you couldn't quite pinpoint the expression on his face, something you'd been doing with a 30% success rate (the highest any natlanian had ever achieved). "whoever gets the last bite wins."
"...i'm just supposed to. eat the other end?"
"what, you can't?" the slight teasing edge in his voice reminded you of ajaw (just the slightest) and you immediately became exponentially irritated.
"hah, who said that? bet."
"..."
oh, so now he chose not to break eye contact.
"...a-hey, we're getting a little close, aren't we.."
"...if you wanna break it off, lose."
"...fuck, you-"
you grabbed him by the cheek, pushing yourself forward and, admittedly, forcefully touching your lips against his. whether by the suddenness or whether by the fact that you two had, well, "kissed," the esteemed malipo kinich let out what sounded like a sputter and fell backward, hands barely catching him from falling to the ground. sitting himself down, he looked up at you with flushed cheeks, mouth slightly open, and the edge of his lips smudged with chocolate.
"bleh. i win." sticking out your tongue, you motioned with your hands. "the whole box, it's mine now. winner takes all, or whatever they say in mondstadt."
kinich's gaze was observant, and under it you felt your face slowly begin to warm, realizing what you had just done.
"not so fast." kinich stood back up, recomposing himself in a matter of seconds.
"one more round. you caught me off guard."
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(a/n) and then reader and kinich smoochy smooch smooch kiss kissed and single day was no longer single and happy birthday kinich really did become happy for kinich fuck when am i going to find me a partner <- has unrealistic expectations
context notes!! :
ajaw purposefully left kinich alone so that he could do his.. idk if you can call it flirting. pocky game w you. best wingman ajaw we all cheer (in reality he was tired of seeing kinich act all lovey dovey whenever you were around and found the tension suffocating so he decided to take matters into his own hands)
taglist (comment to be added / send in an ask on my sb): @manager-of-the-pudding-bank, @iamdedinside, @ilyuu-archive, @falors, @swivy123, @scara-is-my-wife, @lupicalbestwolf, @justyoureader, @fiannee, @aether-darling, @aioniela, @avensuersa, @dainsleif-when-playable, @umiloa, @intpessimistic, @keiiqq, @intpessimistic, @eutopiastar, @matcha-mintea
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cressidagrey · 2 days ago
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It's a Love Story - Chapter 5
Summary:
Azriel's shadows find their master a wife.
Azriel would just really like his heart not to get broken again.
And Sky...well, she's just really surprised that that far too handsome male is interested in her at all.
Warning:
Rhys Bashing (as usual), I classified this as Azriel x OC, even when it't technically Azriel x Sellyn Drake (but we kinda know nothing about Sellyn Drake other than that she writes books so Sky is kinda an OC), Cassian is kinda a good guy for once, Azriel has a horrible time, as usual... Stuttering, toxic families (For once I do not mean the IC), Self-Esteem Issues, Secret Identity, Body Image Issues, Fat Shaming, People being utterly horrible.
If any of this triggers you or makes you uncomfortable, please take care of your own mental health and don't read it.
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“Where’s Az?” Mor asked as Nesta and Cassian entered the dining room at the River House.
“Busy,” Cassian said with a shrug, as he pulled out the chair for his mate, greeting the rest of their family with a smile. 
Mor cocked her head, a small frown appearing on her face. "Busy?" she repeated, a note of curiosity in her voice. "What's he up to?"
Busy. That had been Azriel’s answer to nearly everything after Koshei. Busy.
Even quieter than usual. Keeping away from all of them…and Cassian still heard that one sentence echo in his head. Better me than you. Like somehow Cassians life was worth more than Azriel’s.
Azriel was just being noble and self-sacrificing as usual, right? Cassian knew that his brother didn't really think that way, didn't really believe that his life was worth less than anyone else's. But still, the words haunted him. He couldn't shake the feeling that somehow, somewhere, he had let Azriel down. That he hadn't been there when his brother had needed him the most.
Maybe he should have tried to talk to him...when it all went down… but then he hadn't realised what exactly was even going on, until Nesta had flatly laid it out for him one evening. Azriel had gotten over Mor only to fall in love with Elain...and that hadn't ended in his favour either.
Cassian grimaced just thinking about it. Azriel deserved to be happy. Azriel deserved a mate that loved him, a female that fucking adored him…and instead his brother had fallen not just for one, but two unavailable females. 
And Azriel hadn’t complained. Not once. He had never let it show.
He always kept his emotions hidden under that stoic mask of his, like he was afraid of letting anyone see how much he was hurting. Cassian knew that Azriel would never ask for help, that he would never admit that he needed someone to talk to. But that didn't mean that he didn't need it. 
Cassian just wished that he could find a way to get Azriel to open up, to let him in…that wouldn’t involve beating him to a bloody pulp. 
Azriel acted like everything was fine. Azriel acted like he didn't care. Cassian knew that it was a mask, knew that it wasn't the truth...but Azriel liked to pretend it was...and maybe it was better to let him pretend. 
It wasn't like he was hurting anybody with it, right? He was doing his work just as well as he always did...and if he wanted to spend his free time reading Sellyn Drake books, maybe they should just let him do that…maybe it made him feel better. 
"Maybe he's seeing his secret girlfriend," Cassian drawled.
Mor snorted at that suggestion. "Please," she said with a roll of her eyes. "As if Azriel would ever have time for a girlfriend, let alone a secret one."
"You would be surprised," Cassian muttered under his breath. Apparently Azriel had time for reading Sellyn Drake novels while locked into his room, after all. 
"What's that supposed to mean?" Mor wondered. "He has been...distant lately," she said with a pout.
Cassian could only stare at her. Mor couldn't be serious right now, could she?
Of course, Azriel was distant to her. Mor had fucking broken his heart and trampled on it to top it off. And Cassian had helped her with through the years. He probably owed Azriel an apology for that as well.
And still, Azriel hadn���t complained. Azriel hadn’t called them out. Azriel had taken it silently. Had even congratulated Mor when her Mating Bond with Emerie had snapped. Had been painfully polite, making painfully sure that he didn’t cross any lines, didn’t make Emerie uncomfortable in any way. 
"Just leave him be," Cassian said with a shrug. "He's reading Sellyn Drake novels, he'll be fine,” he waved her off. 
Rhys nearly spit his wine over the table and instead started coughing violently. "Azriel is reading Sellyn Drake novels?!" he asked Cassian with an incredious stare.
"Apparently he has trust in Nesta's taste of literature," Cassian answered easily.
Mor raised a skeptical eyebrow. "Sellyn Drake novels?" she repeated, eyeing Cassian like he had gone mad. "Since when does Azriel read those kinds of books? He's not exactly the...romantic type."
Or maybe there just never had been a single person that had appreciated that side of his brother. Who knew what Azriel actually was into. 
Elain and Mor weren’t similar in the slightest after all. 
Cassian shrugged. "Maybe he's expanding his horizons," he said with a grin. "Or maybe he just wants to see what the fuss is all about. After all, Sellyn Drake is...surprisingly good. Or so I've heard, anyway." He gave a sidelong glance to Nesta, who simply rolled her eyes at him.
Still, out of the corner of his eye, he saw Rhys play absentmindedly with the stem of the wine glass. There was something there...between Rhys and Azriel that Cassian couldn't quite put his finger on. Some kind of tension...some kind of...something.
But lately, it had seemed like that tension had only been getting worse. Like they were both holding something back, like they were both waiting for the other shoe to drop. Cassian couldn't help wondering what would happen when that tension finally snapped.
***
"Winnowing or flying?" Azriel asked Sky as they stepped out into the icy early winter air.
"I...I can't...fly?" Sky answered haltingly, looking at him with these devastating blue eyes. They were beautiful. Not a light blue, not a teal, not bordering on violet…just beautiful near cobalt blue. She probably would match his siphons, he reflected weakly. 
"I'll fly, I'll carry you," he gave back with a chuckle. She stared at him like he was insane, her cheeks reddening.
"I...I...you...can...can't carry me. I am too...heavy," she mumbled. Now it was his turn to stare at her.
Azriel couldn't help but scoff at that. "Too heavy?" he repeated, shaking his head in disbelief. "I'm an Illyrian warrior,” he told her drily. “I could carry a full-grown male into battle if I had to,and I have dragged full-grown males off the battlefield…I can carry you.” 
Azriel couldn't quite believe what he was hearing. Was she...was she seriously trying to tell him that she was too heavy for him to carry? She just so reached the middle of his chest! She definitely wasn't thin...her body was covered with soft flesh and lush curves, every inch of it soft and inviting...but even if she weighed twice her weight, he would easily be able to carry her. She would probably weigh next to nothing to him.
And yet, he could sense the insecurity in her voice, the way she didn't quite believe that he could carry her.
He stepped closer to her, placing his hand gently under her chin and tilting her head up so that she was looking directly into his eyes. "You are beautiful," he said softly, his voice full of warmth and sincerity. "And I don't care how much you weigh, I can carry you. I want to carry you. Because you are mine and I will always protect you, no matter what."
Her breath hitched at that, and he could see the warmth spreading through her cheeks as her heart began to race. She looked up at him with those stunning blue eyes of hers, her lips parted slightly in surprise and wonder. "You...you really mean that?" she whispered, her voice soft and shaky. "You...you don't mind how big I am?"
Azriel chuckled softly, shaking his head. "No, sweetheart, I don't mind," he said gently. "I think you are absolutely perfect just the way you are. And if I have to carry you to prove it, then that is what I will do." And without another word, he scooped her up into his arms, cradling her against his chest as easily.
She squeaked as they shot up in the sky and then she laughed, the sound bright and beautiful
They soared through the sky together, the wind blowing through their hair and clothes as they flew. The City of Starlight sprawled out beneath them, a beautiful tapestry of color and light. Azriel held her close, feeling the warmth of her body against his, the sound of her heartbeat pulsing in rhythm with his own. He knew that he could never tire of this feeling, of having her in his arms like this.
Sky looked up at him with a smile, her eyes shining with happiness and excitement. "I love this," she breathed.
How very fitting it was for the female that called herself Sky to love flying.
"Good," Azriel said softly, his voice full of warmth. "Because we can do this anytime you want, sweetheart."
They soared higher and higher, until the city below them was nothing but a sparkling sea of lights. Azriel was in his element up here, his wings powerful and graceful as they sliced through the air. He could feel the wind whipping through his hair, the cold night air stinging his skin. But he didn't mind, not with her in his arms. In fact, he felt more alive than he had in months. Years, even.
He flew a loping circle over Velaris, towards the Lake House the shadows had purchased and he thanked them mentally for their foresight. He couldn't very well bring Sky home to the House of Wind...but here...he could take her. It was private and safe...and if the expression of her face was anything to go by, she loved it.
He angled his body towards the Lake House, gliding towards it with expert precision. As they approached, Azriel saw the soft glow of the lights in the windows, the gentle sway of the curtains in the breeze. The lake glittered in the moonlight, the surface of the water undisturbed and serene. It was the perfect place to bring her, a place that he felt she would love just as much as he did.
"You live here?" she wondered, wonder in her voice as she took in the sight.
Azriel felt a warm swell of pride in his chest as he landed smoothly on the deck of the house. "Yes," he said simply, his eyes fixed on her face, watching as she marveled at the house. "I wanted a private place," he admitted. "Somewhere quiet and peaceful, where I could escape from the chaos of my life for a little while.I haven't been there long though, it’s still a work in progress…" he warned her. More like 2 hours before he had met her. "But I love it."
He set her down gently, his hands lingering on her waist for a moment before he stepped back. "Come on," he said softly, holding out his hand to her. "Let me show you inside."
The shadows skittered inside as soon as he opened the door, like a bunch of little busybodies, rightening the curtains there, fluffing pillows on the couch...It seemed to amuse Sky though. "You must ne...never have to deal with a mes...messy kitchen," she teased him
Azriel chuckled at that. "No, the shadows don't like when things are out of place,”  he admitted.
It wasn't a lie. But then he didn't like it either. 
Like a moth pulled to the flame, Sky was pulled towards his bookcases, fingertips tripping over the spines as she hungrily read the titles.
Azriel suddenly hoped that the shadows had put something other than Sellyn Drake novels in the bookcase, because otherwise he was going to look like a fucking stalker.
He watched with a mix of amusement and apprehension as she examined the bookshelves, his heart pounding in his chest. *Please,* he silently pleaded to the shadows, *please tell me you didn't leave those Sellyn Drake novels on the shelf.* Because if she saw those, it would be disastrous.
The shadows seemed weirdly frozen in place.
"You read Sel...Sellyn Drake?" Sky asked him, sounding delighted and shocked at the same time.
Azriel groaned inwardly, feeling his face flush with embarrassment. "I...yes, I do," he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. "I...There is...I...I need to tell you something."
"Te...Tell me som...something?" Sky asked, turning towards him, these big beautiful eyes staring at him.
"I...It wasn't a coincidence that I was in that bar tonight," he told her, watching as she stared at him. "The shadows told me to go."
"The...The shad...shadows?" she asked him, looking utterly shocked.
"I...I told them...a few weeks ago...to...find me somebody that....that I could love...somebody that I could make happy. A wife," Azriel admitted. "You were the one they picked."
She stared at him, her mouth falling open slightly. Azriel braced himself for her reaction, not sure what to expect. Would she be angry? Scandalized? Horrified that he had sent his shadows to find him a wife?
She stared at him wide-eyed. "You...You as…asked yo…your sha..shadows to fi…find you a wi…wife?!" she asked him, repeating his words back at him.
He could feel his cheeks reddening but nodded nonetheless. "...are you angry?" he asked her weakly.
Sky stared at him for a moment, but then she shook her head. "No, No...no, I'm not," she repeated again, her voice trembling slightly. "I'm...I'm flat…flattered, actually...Though...though I am cu..curious what it…what it was about me that...made…made them pick me," she admitted.
For the first time in his life, his shadows talked to somebody other than Azriel. *We thought you would treat Master like you treat your cat,* the shadows told her brightly.
She blinked at the bunch of shadows that had gathered in front of her.
"You...You...You want me to...treat Az..Azriel like...like a cat?" she asked them incrediously.
Azriel spluttered, his cheeks burning with mortification. He hadn't expected the shadows to be so blunt, and the idea of her treating him like a cat was...well, it was absurd, to say the least. He wanted her to be his mate, his equal, not to treat him as if he were some kind of pet.
"No, no," he quickly interjected, trying to salvage the situation. "They...they don't mean it like that, Sky. The shadows have their own...unique way of looking at things. Please just...just forget they ever said that."
Sky fixed him with a look. "What do you mean?" she asked the shadows.
*You love your cat,* the shadows said quickly. *You buy him ridiculous overpriced Tuna, and you let him sleep in your bed and you scratch him behind the ears. You even knitted him a sweater!*
Azriel winced, feeling his embarrassment and mortification rising even further. 
"That...thats not important," he mumbled, feeling like he was on the verge of spontaneously combusting from embarrassment. "The shadows...they have a habit of exaggerating things. Just...please, don't take them too seriously. I'm not expecting you to treat me like a cat, I swear."
Sky looked at him, then at the Shadows, then at Azriel again. She seemed to be lost in thought, clearly trying to decipher what the shadows meant.
"You..You want your mas…master to be tre…treated...well?" Sky finally asked the shadows, her tone of voice serious. "You pick…picked me because I...be..because I was nice to my cat?" she asked them curiously.
*You are so kind,* the shadows said softly. And so pretty. And we knew you would treat Master well and wouldn't judge him.*
Sky blushed at the compliment.
Azriel felt a sense of relief wash over him as the conversation shifted away from the whole "cat" thing. He had to admit, the shadows were right. Sky had been nothing but kind and considerate towards him since they met, and he was grateful for that. Still, he couldn't help but feel a bit embarrassed by the whole situation.
"Look...I apologize for the shadows' behavior," he said to Sky, his voice soft. "They can be a bit...blunt, sometimes."
"I…I un…understand where they are com…coming from," she said nearly thoughtfully. "They just...want to see you hap…happy?" she said carefully and he nodded.
"Yes."
"Though they…they don't seem to have much of a sense of boun…boundaries," Sky said with a laugh. "You hid in my apartment didn't you?" she asked the shadows.
Azriel cringed as the shadows seemed to twirl in agreement. He had hoped that particular detail would have gone unnoticed, but he should have known better. Sky was too observant for her own good.
"Yes, they did," he admitted reluctantly. "I'm sorry about that. They...they have a tendency to go where they please."
Sky still mustered the shadows that were twitching in front of her
"I…I prom…promise to t…treat your ma…master well." Sky said seriously. "He's my mate."
Azriel felt his heart skip a beat at her words. The sound of that word coming from her lips made his knees weak.
He stepped forward, closing the distance between them and taking her hands in his. "And I promise to treat you well too," he swore fervently. 
"And I'll…I’ll even knit him a swea…sweater," Sky continued, looking at the shadows.. "I…I don't know if he likes Tu…tuna, but I'll…buy him some… sweets."
He couldn’t help but laugh at her words, feeling a surge of affection for her that was almost overwhelming. "Sky," he said softly, looking into her eyes. "You don't have to do any of that for me. Just being with you is more than I could ever ask for.But...if you are willing to knit me a sweater, I surely won't say no to it," he added with a laugh. "And maybe you could try scratching me behind the ears too, just in case the shadows are right."
He meant it as a joke, but there was a part of him that was secretly delighted by the idea of her spoiling and doting on him. Maybe, just maybe, the shadows were onto something after all.
"And...who knows, maybe I'll develop a taste for Tuna," he added, grinning playfully. "As long as it's the fancy kind, that is."
He kissed her forehead gently, holding her close for a moment longer before finally pulling away. "But Sky…you don’t have to do all of that…Just being with you is enough."
She smiled up at him, beautiful and blinding and he couldn't help but kiss her.
As his lips met hers, Azriel felt a wave of warmth and tenderness wash over him. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close as he deepened the kiss. In that moment, nothing else mattered. Not the shadows, not the world outside, nothing but her.
He broke the kiss reluctantly, resting his forehead against hers as he caught his breath. 
"You…You can absolutely sleep in my bed with me," she whispered. "Or I'll sleep in yours," she offered, a grin on her face... and that was all he needed to hear, as he picked her up again.
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itneverendshere · 3 days ago
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all you've got to do is want something and then let yourself have it - r.c
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pairing: rafe x pogue!reader (bartender!reader universe)
this is a combination of a few requests: "hella see jj instantly jumping into uncle jay mode when autumn comes (...)  + "she's just so small against rafe and it's halloween where jj and monica and milo come stop by, and she's just so srunchy in her halloween onesie" + "the thought of baby cameron's first holiday being halloween! + thinking of jj having the most random nicknames for autumn that even rafes like what did u just call my daughter (...).
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it was halloween—rafe’s first as a dad—and his baby girl, autumn, was just about a month old. his chest swelled with pride every time he looked at her—her little hands, those big blue eyes that still seemed so new to the world.
he'd never understood how people could fall in love so quickly with something so small. but now, looking down at her cute face, he couldn’t help but be consumed by it.
tonight wasn’t just another halloween—it was autumn's first.
rafe was determined to make it special. he'd even set up a few decorations in the living room, hoping to at least start the tradition early. not that she could enjoy it yet, but someday she would.
he heard the familiar chime of a text, swiping open his phone, he grinned at the picture you’d sent to the group chat. there was his baby girl, strapped in her car seat, snug as a bug, with her tiny fists curled up against the pumpkin onesie she was drowning in.
found her a decent costume, guess who’s about to come home! read your message.
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he couldn’t stop himself from smiling as he replied, i bet she’s ready to see her daddy.
another message popped up from jj, his voice coming through as if he were already in full-on uncle jay mode. he hadn’t even seen the baby for more than a couple minutes, but he was all about claiming his spot in the family.
aw, my sweet little chipmunk must be so excited to see me!
“chipmunk?” rafe mumbled to himself, brows pulling together as he shook his head. that idiot had a nickname for autumn every week since she was born, and every week, they seemed to get more random.
he could picture it now—jj walking in and immediately stealing the kid from his arms, calling her some out-of-nowhere name.
just as he pocketed his phone, he heard the front door swing open.
there you were, his pretty wife with that tired-but-radiant look in your eyes that made him weak in the knees every time, and there was his little girl, her chubby cheeks smushed against the car seat strap, already half-asleep.
“hey, troublemaker,” he whispered to his daughter as he scooped her up, her onesie crinkling as she wiggled and blinked up at him.
rafe had never felt so big as he did when holding her; her whole body fit in his arms like she was meant to be there. the doorbell interrupted their little moment, and rafe smiled to himself.
right on time.
he opened the door to see jj, monica, and milo—the familiar, chaotic crew.
jj was already leaning in for autumn, hands outstretched like she was his to claim. he rushed over, grinning like a kid who’d just won the jackpot. “ohhh, chipmunk’s home!”
“alright, alright, hold on,” rafe grumbled, stepping back. he shook his head, giving jj a warning glance. “dude, she’s barely awake. can you let her at least stay asleep for five minutes?”
“eh, five minutes is all she needs,” jj smirked, taking her from rafe’s arms with ease. “monica always says she’s got my personality—just sleeps through everything.”
monica rolled her eyes. “i never said that. don’t put words in my mouth.”
“come on, rafey, princess fussy butt just needs her uncle.” he shot rafe a wink, then immediately started babbling nonsense to the baby, who blinked at him with that open-mouth stare, like she was trying to understand why everyone thought this dude was so funny.
"what did you just call my daughter?" rafe raised a brow. “princess fussy butt? really, dude?”
maybank just laughed. “better than ‘chipmunk'.”
milo, meanwhile, was tugging at your sleeve, showing you the skeleton costume he’d been wearing all day, rattling off about the latest candy haul he was plotting.
monica glanced over, shaking her head. “if you start with that nickname, she’s going to think it’s her real name by the time she’s two.”
“good,” jj smirked. “she’ll be ready to take on the world by then.”
rafe chuckled, glancing back at his baby, her scrunchy little self bundled in her onesie, eyes already half-shut.
“look at her,” he nodded towards jj, while you rested your head against his bicep.
“it’s her first holiday,” you murmured.
“yeah, and she’s got maniac jj, aunt monica, and the skeleton over there to keep it interesting,” he joked, watching milo comparing candy bars with jj in what looked like a serious negotiation.
he was still cradling autumn, making faces at her and talking to her in a voice that was a little too high-pitched for anyone but a baby. rafe watched from the couch now, his arms wrapped around you as you sat beside him, both of you listening to the holiday mess around you.
“hey, i swear, if she calls him ‘uncle jay’ before she can even say ‘mama’ or ‘dada,’ i’m gonna fucking' lose it,” rafe muttered under his breath to you, nudging your side.
you chuckled, lifting your gaze to meet his. “as long as she doesn’t call him ‘princess fussy butt,’ i think we’re good.”
first holidays were a big deal, but it was more than that.
this halloween was his first as a dad, and it felt like his whole life had changed in the best possible way. you two were building memories now, the kind that would last for years, traditions that he could carry with him and pass down.
milo, now done with his fifth round of candy negotiations with jj, walked over to you two, shaking his head in frustration as he planted himself right beside the couch.
“seriously, you gotta get him to shut up,” he complained, eyeing the blonde as he bounced autumn in his arms, making strange sounds in an attempt to get her to smile, and failing miserably.
rafe snickered, his arm still around you as he pulled you in closer. “what did i tell you, kid? maybank's gotta be himself. we can’t tame him.”
milo raised an eyebrow, then glanced at you, trying to change the subject. “so, can we continue the candy haul now, or…?”
you grinned, happy to let him off the hook. “you’ve been thinking about candy for the last hour, haven’t you?”
milo nodded vigorously. “well, yeah, but only because jay’s been ignoring me. i’m on a mission. i need your professional opinion on my stash.”
you shot a glance at rafe, who was trying to hide his amusement. “looks like milo’s ready to be your candy mentor,” you teased.
he shrugged. “i don’t know, man. i might’ve been planning to steal some of his stash later.” he winked at milo, who, despite being ten, was wise enough to know when they were messing around.
“i need your help to make sure i got the best stuff this year. it’s a whole strategic thing, okay?” he leaned in close, as if he were about to reveal some secret mission. “the candy’s gotta be in prime condition.”
you raised an eyebrow. “so, you’ve got it all laid out?”
“oh, you bet,” milo said, reaching for the plastic pumpkin bucket beside him. he held it up with a dramatic flourish, as if he were presenting treasure. “operation candy haul is a success.”
rafe nodded, “what do you need from us?”
milo went into full-on candy expert mode. “okay, here’s the rundown. first, we’ve got your classics—snickers, m&ms, twix. but then there’s the premium section—reese’s, kit-kats, and my personal favorite, the milky ways.” he paused, looking at you seriously. “you have got to help me sort this. we need an unbiased opinion.”
you tried not to chuckle at his intensity. “you’re taking this a little seriously for someone who’s only ten.”
“well, i’m not ten anymore,” he said matter-of-factly. “i’m, like, ten and a half now. that’s practically a teenager.”
“i’ll give you that,” rafe said with a grin, as you smothered a laugh. “so what’s next on your list, teenager milo?”
“for the final test, you’ve gotta rank the ones that have the most chocolate-to-nougat ratio. i’ll leave that to you.” milo said, clearly trusting rafe’s opinion on these serious matters.
“you’ve got it,” rafe replied, pretending to think deeply. “the most chocolate-to-nougat ratio… now that’s a crucial step. can’t mess with the classics, kid.”
“exactly!” milo nodded, looking up at you. “we need to do a double-check of his candy haul. make sure the ratios are balanced.”
you pretended to ponder it, peeking at the candy bucket with exaggerated seriousness. “okay, you’ve convinced me. i’m in.”
you turned to rafe, who was already pulling a few pieces of candy from the pile, ready to play along. jj, still holding autumn, caught wind of what was happening and walked over with a dramatic sigh.
“what’s going on here? i hear talk of candy, and i need in.”
“too late,” milo said, grinning at him like he’d won a major victory. “i’m running this operation now.”
jj, not one to be outdone, threw a playful scowl at him. “when did you start talking back?”
as you and rafe dove into the candy sorting, a tiny whimper broke the festive ambience. everyone paused, glancing over to where jj was still cradling autumn and her face had gone from sleepy to fussy in seconds, her lips wobbling as her eyes squeezed shut.
“oh no, no, no...” jj muttered, bouncing her a little too enthusiastically, trying to avoid the inevitable meltdown. “come on, chipmunk, we’re just getting started here—don’t bail on me now.”
her hands clenched, and then came the wail—a high-pitched, all-out baby cry that instantly turned heads, her tiny face was scrunched, cheeks red, and her lungs proving just how powerful they were for someone so small.
“oh, jj,” you sighed, moving to take her, but rafe was already up, a smile spreading across his face as he reached for her.
“alright, alright, time’s up,” rafe said, easing her from jj’s arms. he held her close, gently rocking her, his hand rubbing soothing circles on her tiny back. “hey, sweet girl,” he murmured softly, his voice dropping into that warm, gentle tone reserved just for her. “shh, it’s okay.”
as if by magic, her cries began to ease, her little body relaxing against rafe as she blinked up at him, still sniffling but calming with each second. she reached a tiny hand up, clutching onto his sweater.
jj put his hands on his hips, letting out an exaggerated sigh. “see that? kid won’t cry for anyone else. i think i’m losing my charm.”
rafe smirked, not looking up from his daughter, “told you, maybank. you gotta have the touch.”
you leaned into him as he sat back down, resting your chin on his shoulder as you watched her settle, her wide eyes blinking up at you both, taking in the world from the safe haven of her dad’s arms.
the blonde grinned, putting a hand on his heart in mock sadness. “well, fine then. guess she’s got her favorites.”
monica elbowed him, rolling her eyes, “they made her, you idiot.”
“ew.” he gave you and rafe a teasing side-eye, earning a good-natured smack from your sister.
autumn, oblivious to all the drama, had already snuggled back into her dad’s chest, letting out a sleepy sigh. rafe’s face softened as he looked down at her, his fingers tracing gentle circles on her back.
halloween had never felt more complete, and as you looked at your husband holding your daughter, you knew it wouldn’t be the last.
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barcaatthemoon · 3 days ago
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complicate me || leah williamson x reader ||
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Coming back to Arsenal was a mistake, but you and Leah manage to make an even bigger one together.
18+
You had always known that you wouldn't be at Manchester forever. A three year loan was a pretty long time, and for a moment, you had hoped that it would become permanent. Arsenal had let you stay the couple years, but with Jonas out, management ended your loan early. They wanted you back in red, not that you could blame them. There were a lot of important games coming up, and even if you technically couldn't play in a couple of them, you were still an important piece for practices.
It felt weird for you to walk the training grounds at Arsenal by yourself. Jen was gone, and she had always been the person you could count on to still be your mate after everything. Leah had kept most of your friends after the breakup, and then you hadn't exactly helped your case when you just up and left after everything.
You could still remember the way that Caitlin had practically begged for you to stay with the team. If it wasn't for Jen, you probably would have been convinced to stay. A part of you regretted leaving, but you knew that you hadn't been in your right mind with Leah so close after everything. At the time, it all seemed like too much to be reconciled, but now you were hopeful that things could be fixed.
You'd never in a million years get back together with Leah, no matter how good she looked. It didn't matter how many drinks you had on a team night out. After the first couple to celebrate wins, however, you promptly decided that you'd be a loner at Arsenal. With Jen in California, you had lost your personal voice of reason, the only person who could truly keep you away from Leah for your own wellbeing.
"Come on, you have to come over. You never do anything with the team, everybody's gonna think that you hate them," Caitlin pleaded with you. The two of you had been going back and forth for the past week about you coming to the party she was throwing with Katie at their place. It was a bye week, so everybody was free to enjoy the weekend. You knew there would be a lot of drinking, and that was what scared you. You had always been able to hold your liquor pretty well physically, but you made absolutely terrible decisions sometimes.
"Cait, nobody wants me there. Let's face it, they barely even want me playing here again," you reasoned. Caitlin could see you start to move to get up and rushed to grab onto your wrist. "Caitlin, I don't want to argue about this."
"Then don't argue and just come over for a bit. You don't have to talk to anybody but me. Just please, I miss you. I've missed you since you moved and iced everybody out," Caitlin said. She gave you her best puppy dog eyes, and if it was anybody else, you probably would have just said no. But because it was Caitlin, you gave in despite your better judgement.
That afternoon when you got out of training, you went straight home and immediately called Jen. You had hoped that she would convince you not to go, but instead, she had fully agreed with Caitlin. You hated hearing how it was a good idea to bond with the women you'd be spending the next two seasons of your career with. Once your contract was over, you could go somewhere else, but for now, you were stuck at Arsenal.
A lot of things had changed since you left. The changes may not have seemed like much to people who had been around, but they had definitely taken you by surprise. The big one had been Caitlin and Lia. Caitlin had been clinging to Katie's side when you arrived, and Lia was stuck by Lia.
Years before, you had been close with Lia, even closer than Lia and Leah were. Now, you just had Caitlin, who you had only befriended because of Lia. It hurt for the Swiss woman not to even look your way, but you couldn't imagine how it looked to her. You were sure that everybody had gotten Leah's side of the story, which you weren't calling bullshit, but you knew had to be biased.
"You look good. Leah's staring," Caitlin said as she nudged you.
"Whatever." You brushed off Caitlin's comment, but only to force yourself not to glance over at the blonde. You couldn't let yourself get sucked over there, not when you knew where it would end up. Leah had an uncanny ability to complicate everything in your life, and she had been doing it for years now. Your relationship had been far from perfect, but you were happier then. Now, you were miserable while she was getting a chance to live her best life.
"(Y/n), I didn't think you'd come." Katie looked just as surprised as she sounded. Caitlin swatted at the Irish woman's chest, but Katie seemed unphased. "I'm glad you came. It's been boring without my favorite drinking buddy."
"Do you really want me to drink you under the table this early into the night?" you asked teasingly. Katie scoffed at that, but didn't deny that you usually did win the little competitions. You watched as Katie sent Caitlin a pleading look before Caitlin just nodded. Before you could react, Katie grabbed your hand and led you into the kitchen where the alcohol was.
You let Katie pick the alcohol, and thus, your competition began. You should have known better than to start drinking like this so early into the night, but you wanted to have fun. It had been so long that you believed that you deserved to have a good night out. Several shots later, and you found yourself having to help Katie stumble out of the kitchen.
"Katie, you promised you'd stop at 5," Caitlin huffed as she took her girlfriend from you.
"Hey, it's not my fault that she did doubles," Katie slurred. Caitlin glanced over at you, who just barely had a rosy tint to your cheeks. You didn't seem too out of it, so Caitlin left you there to make Katie sit down and eat something with the hope of sobering her up a bit. It couldn't have been more than maybe 30 seconds of you being alone for Leah to find her way over to you.
"I see that you're enjoying yourself," Leah teased. Your eyes narrowed at her, but your anger was fleeting. You couldn't hold onto any one emotion for too long before forgetting what exactly it was that you were feeling. "You're gonna be feeling that tomorrow."
"That's not your concern," you told her. Leah seemed a bit shocked by the snark in your tone. She shouldn't have been surprised by it, you had spoken to her in worse tones constantly by the end of your relationship. "Why are you over here? You told everybody that I ruined you. Nobody wants to talk to the woman who ruined them."
"(Y/n), I was hurt. You know that I lash out when I'm hurt, besides, I am much more mature than I was before," Leah said. She placed her hand on the small of your back, and it ignited something inside of you. Without an ounce of hesitation, you turned and tried to kiss Leah. "Hey, no, not like this. I want you, but I want you to want me back."
"Leah, it's complicated. I'm complicated now," you told her. Leah bit her lip and glanced at the bottle of alcohol just sitting on the table behind you. You followed her gaze and immediately knew what she was getting onto. "You want to be on my level?"
"I don't think I'd feel so bad if I was," Leah reasoned. You didn't like the thought of her needing to be drunk to want you, but the notion was gone as quickly as it popped into your head. Everything was fleeting, except for your desire to have Leah. You didn't necessarily want her sexually; you just wanted her close. If you had to crawl into bed and open your legs for that, then you were more than willing to do so.
The trip back to Leah's was a bit of a blur. Leah's place wasn't too far from Katie and Caitlin's, close enough for the two of you to walk there. The two of you had left fairly early into the night, but it was nearly 11:30 by the time that you had gotten inside. Neither of you seemed to care as you had both been guilty of stopping to kiss and feel the other up.
Your lipstick was smeared on Leah's mouth and neck by the time that you got back to her place. She paused as she caught a glimpse of herself, a little more disheleved than normal. Leah promptly turned her atttention over to you. You looked just as far gone as she did, pupils blown wide as you watched and waited for her to make another move on you.
"Come on," Leah said as she tugged you along with her. Leah tried to move quickly with you, not giving you a chance to take in the state of her home now that you were gone. She was scared that if the two of you stopped for too long, you would notice all of the little pieces of you that Leah had refused to give up.
The truth was that she had tried, and for a while, they had been gone. However, Leah had always kept the few boxes of trinkets and little things you left behind in her closet. Lia had begged Leah to throw it all away, but the blonde couldn't bring herself to do it. Eventually, she began hating the way that her house felt, so she slowly put all of your things back in their rightful places.
Leah kept the light in her room off, guiding you to the bed herself. She didn't think about you waking up in the morning and seeing anything, but Leah doubted that the two of you would be on speaking terms for a while after tonight. Any time that you let yourself get remotely close to Leah for a little, you always blanked everybody for about a week or two.
"Lee, it's dark," you said. Leah just hummed, neither of you stopping in your attempts to undress each other. You wanted to see Leah's body, but you weren't willing to pull yourself away from her to turn on the lights. You didn't need the lights on to know the look of concentration on Leah's face as the two of you ground against each other.
You could vividly imagine everything happening around you. This was far from the first time that you had closed your eyes and just tried to imagine all of the things you remembered about Leah. Now, it was much more real than before with Leah panting and moaning in your ear.
"I want to feel you. I want to be inside of you," Leah told you. You had never been glad to be laying down before in your life. There was no way that Leah wouldn't have known how her words would affect you. You were sure that Leah could feel the surge of arousal as it coursed through your body.
"Fuck me, Leah, please," you begged her. You pushed a needier tone than usual, letting Leah really hear every ounce of desperation inside of you. Leah groaned as she sat back on her knees. One of her hands slipped between your legs while the other went between her own.
Leah could just barely make out the twisting of your body in the moonlight. She was so much closer than you were, but Leah wanted to make you cum. She wanted to feel you clench around her fingers at least one more time. She didn't know whether or not she'd get another chance to touch you like this again, and so she tried her best to savor the moment.
The hangover from hell was the least of your problems whenever you had woken up the next morning. With Leah fast asleep next to you, you quickly snuck out of her home. It had once been your home too, but once again, you were running from it. A few quick phone calls to Arsenal's management staff about taking some time off for your mental health and a hasty plane ticket purchase later, and you were dead set on leaving the country.
Leah would be mad at you, as would Caitlin and everyone else, but you had to go. You watched as a text was sent out from management about you taking the next month off. Text after text began flooding in as you packed a bag. You didn't know how long you'd really be away for, but you just had to get the fuck away from London for a while.
"Jen? I know it's early for you, but I fucked up. I'm not over her, and I just need to clear my head for a couple of days. I swear that I won't be long, they're giving me the month, so I'll probably go back to Glasgow for a bit too. I just, I'll see you later." You had always hated leaving voicemails, but the words just poured from your mouth. You knew that your best friend was going to kill you when she saw you, but she'd also take care of you too.
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helslastangel · 3 days ago
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RANDOM ASTRO OBSERVATIONS #10
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Nobody's safe. That's it. That's the disclaimer.
Libra Jupiter in 11th house can indicate having many opportunities in life that come through friendships and connections with others. People with this placement can often get very far in life simply because they talked to the right people at the right times. This is especially true if they also have Libra in their big 3 or Libra mercury.
Capricorn suns with Sagittarius mercury are surprisingly chill compared to the usual stoic reputation of Capricorn and energetic rep that Sagittarius has. My favorite friends and colleagues have this combination of placements and they are quite easy to get along with and fun to be around.
Very much like Virgo suns with Libra mercury, they can appear quiet and reserved at first, but become lively and chatty once they know you and have decided they like you. However unlike Virgo sun/Libra mercury people (who usually censor their words/tone and think out loud or form their opinions by talking through them first), not only are they a lot blunter (or straightforward, when older), they are more sure about where they stand, or certain of what they want to say on a topic before they say it.
Libra Mercury in the 11th house can have a lot of friends or just make and keep acquaintances very easily. These are the people who always "know a guy" or can say "my homegirl does that!" almost no matter what problem or need you have. They just know someone who can fix it. They are popular people, or at least seem that way to others.
They can sometimes appear to have a much larger network of friends and connections than they do, which is why many of them tend to either keep their friend/friend groups separate or may prefer to maintain superficial/lightweight connections with others over deeper and more intimate connections that would reveal more.
Capricorn Venus in 8th house people can go through a lot of one-sided relationships before landing the right person. They are probably the most caring and attentive of all the Venus sigs, but from my observations they are taken advantage of a lot and often treated very poorly by the majority of their partners.
My childhood friend has this placement (as well as a few of my relatives) and for over a decade I watched her pour so much love and care into men who ended up treating her like an afterthought. I never understood why, as she was very much what you'd think most males would consider wifey material.
She cooked, baked, was organized, and very clean. Motherly instincts intact, had a good job in healthcare and her own place. Knew how to kick back and have fun but could also be appropriately authoritative in the sense of managing a household. Like you could just tell she would be a firm yet loving mother, or even if she did not have kids, you could tell she would be the kind of wife where the husband could hand her his entire paycheck if he wanted and not have to worry for a second that she would blow it on anything foolish. Very capable and responsible woman. I used to get so angry at the way men would come into her life and enjoy all the things she would do for them, including having her manage their money. It was a bit surprising for me how quickly and easily men would put their finances in her hands, only for them to abruptly leave - usually for a woman who was chaotic and stressful too. I did not understand it then, and despite hearing all the talk about how men go for who they are passionate about even if they are the least productive, responsible, or capable person ever, I still don't get it now.
Capricorn in the 8th house can lead to a lot of situations where the native ends up handling other people's money because people can sense their stable energy and innate responsibility. But it can lead to the person feeling like they are nothing but a personal assistant or sentient savings account to others, and over time they can become (100% understandably) bitter if they do not meet someone genuine and kind in time to avoid this.
Aquarius in 6th house can have unusual or eccentric daily routines, or little quirks in the way they go about day to day tasks and responsibilities. I knew someone with this placement who could only brush his teeth in the morning and shower at night. He couldn't really bring himself to do it the other way around and would simply not do the thing at all that day if something disrupted that routine. He also had a job where his # of hours was consistent but his actual shift times weren't and he liked it that way "for the variety." He hated the thought of a schedule where he would have to arrive and leave at the same time every day.
Cancer Lilith in 1st house women can often run into situations where men string them along for a very, very long time. These men sense the stereotypical "nurturing/motherly" essence of Cancer but Cancer Lilith women display a unique twist on this essence where it is very clear to onlookers that her individuality and sense of self cannot be watered down or blended out into others.
Cancer Lilith 1H (and to a lesser extent Taurus Lilith 1H) women are the type who can have a husband, kids, work and manage the home without losing a single ounce of who they always were.
From my observations, they usually don't experience the fate many women meet, where they wake up one day and realize that they haven't even heard their first name in weeks because they're only remembered and referred to in terms of who they are to someone else ("Mom," "John's girlfriend," "Mr. Jones' wife").
Unfortunately, this rubs some men the wrong way, who will then subconsciously try to hang on to the parts of the Cancer Lilith women they like, while searching for other women who don't trigger their fear of women who retain their personality after marriage/children.
Gemini Sun Virgo Rising people can appear put-together and organized in public but could have very messy rooms or just have trouble keeping things in order at home.
People with Pisces in their 7th house might feel torn between going after people they are genuinely attracted to and people they perceive to be a better match, for whatever reason. They could also end up confusing the sense of security they feel with someone for love, or feeling more secure with someone than they should because of love.
Gemini Mars in 10th house does not mind going out of their comfort zone to further their career. They may even set aside their own values and morals if they believe that doing something will produce a good return on their investment (of time, effort, money, etc.).
Taurus Mercury in 9th house enjoys talking to people from other cultures about the foods they eat and what their daily routines and special/holiday ritual are like. They enjoy learning about other cultures on a more down-to-earth level, so they might be less interested in other philosophies and more into sensory differences.
Cancer Moon in 11th house identifies VERY strongly with their friend group and can become depressed or ill if there is too much discord between themselves and their friends, or between their friends with each other. They do not take kindly to any kind of abandonment from friends, real or imagined. If they decide you have left them or betrayed them one too many times, they will simply never speak to you again.
Virgo Mars people can be extremely picky when it comes to partners. One of my childhood friends has this placement and despite being a Sagittarius Sun & Mercury (along with having Venus in 9H), she barely has a romantic interest in anyone. She's not aromantic or asexual; she just gets the ick so easily that it is difficult for her to like anyone enough to date them for long. She didn't go into detail most of the time. She was the furthest from the kiss-and-tell kind of person, she would barely tell anyone even the name or age of anyone she was interested in, much less give details about her specific icks.
I tend to attract Virgo Mars people platonically and romantically quite often though, so I have other examples of the same trait.
My ex-husband is a Virgo sun with Virgo Mars and Leo Venus and the smallest things would throw him off. Like if I made scrambled eggs and all the pieces weren't perfectly yellow (if any got slightly browned, he would consider the entire pot as "burnt" and would ruin his day). If I did laundry and did not strictly separate the colors (I will wash black, dark grey, and bold colors clothes together. He will separate them all. I will wash off-white and very light grey or beige with white clothes. He would look at me crazy and ask me to just do a different household chore and leave the laundry to him. Hea
He also apparently got the ick from my frugality? Lol. I had cheap sneakers and dollar-store headphones when we first got together. A few weeks later he asked where I was and I told him I was at the mall with a friend. He showed up and wordlessly gave me brand-new Samsung Galaxy earbuds before driving home lmao. Then a couple weeks after that he bought me new AirMaxes and made it a point to tell me that my existing sneakers were so cheap. And that he got good ones for me in a style that "makes your feet look smaller." I guess my foot size was not to his liking. Lol. I'm almost 6 feet tall and wear size 9.5/10 women's shoes (for males reading this, that is around 8/8.5 in your sizes, so don't start, pls
A previous ex of mine (Cancer Sun) also had Virgo Mars (and Venus) but he had the opposite ick - he didn't like that I always wore nice jeans and blouses even if we were only going to Walmart or his friends' houses. Apparently, it was "off-putting" for him that I was "too fancy, never just dress down and look comfortable, even in the house." I was like... but I am comfortable? And he would be like, "Nah you're so fancy all the time, it's kinda weird, like do you even own any sweatpants? Your hair is never messy? It's like you're never just relaxed."
Um, as a Scorpio Venus/Jupiter, Libra Mercury person, messy hair will never be in the same room as comfortable for me but we are broken up for a reason, LOL.
Yeah Virgo Mars are just really, really picky. Idk how else to put it. They might be bothered by very different things, but they're all bothered in general! Love 'em regardless, they're also attentive and will know what you like and also what you need.
Leo Mars in 2nd house can have a hard time feeling satisfied with what they own or with their level of skill in certain areas. They don't usually express envy outwardly though. They will happily gas up their friends and colleagues, but implode on themselves in private.
They can have frequent pity parties or episodes of extreme self-loathing that only their closest friends or partners ever witness. It can be difficult to pull them out of these moods as they tend to feel like they either don't have enough or are not enough in some way.
Aquarius Eros men and masculine people are often attracted to women and feminine people with strong or eccentric personalities. They lust after the kinds of people who didn't even bother rocking the boat and jumped out to swim upstream and chill somewhere else.
However, unless they have Juno in Aquarius, Aquarius 7H or some other placements that support long-term relationships/marriages/longevity with unusual people or non-traditional elements, they eventually abandon such love interests for someone who fits better into societal expectations. Ask me how I know. :(
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ace-of-bass · 2 days ago
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Also: Building community is not just an outreach tool. It is a tool of keeping ourselves safe and keeping resources available to all. Offering things on social media like rides to abortion clinics, or diy hrt, or anything else that is perhaps not-totally-legal in all places, is not a great strategy. For one, you shouldn't trust strangers on the internet with information that sensitive, so those you are offering those services to would do well not to trust you. If you want to meaningfully contribute to providing things such as the above, or even more legal-but-logistically-complex things like feeding a large number of people, handing out narcan, etc, you need to organize in person. How do you organize in person? By meeting people in person, aka building community.
If this is your goal, you can start with people who are very similar to you! You don't have to start by reaching out to Alt Right David or even Annoying Uncle Bill - you can start by going to a local show or a group that meets at the library or hanging out with your D&D group when you're not actively playing D&D. Then, you have friends that you can rely on to take care of you, and who you might be able to plan some cool mutual aid shit with. I've been working on building community for awhile, at first not intentionally and lately very intentionally, and here's how I met the group of friends I started a monthly free store with:
1. Met Friend A at a choir thing since I like to sing and was looking for friends after moving somewhere new. Friend A ultimately left choir but we stayed friends, and at one point I told Friend A I'm ace.
2. Friend A said, "oh you'd love my friend B, who's also ace! She's doing a comedy show, let's go see her perform together and then you can meet her!"
3. Friend B and I become friends, and start a local peer support group for aspec people, based mostly on Friend B's existing communities and our sheer determination.
4. Fast forward a year and a half, Friend C comes to our aspec peer support group and I become friends with her.
5. Friend C and I are talking about activism, and Friend C says a lot of the things I'm interested in aligns with what Friend D has talked to her about. Friend C introduces me to Friend D.
6. Independently, I have been building a community space on my street, in the rough neighborhood of where Friend C, Friend D, and I live.
7. Friend D and I want to create a solarpunk future but decide to start small. Friend D ropes in several of his friends, one of whom I happen to know from the community space mentioned in 6.
8. This group of friends runs a free store once a month in the community space, open for all to donate to and all to attend. As we find out about others who are doing/want to do similar things, we try to join forces. In this way we've expanded from just a free store to a free store + clothing swap, and we're only on our third time hosting it.
All of these friends are lefty, and all of them are queer in some way or another. The free store friends are explicitly anarchist, like me. I think OP's point is useful for deradicalization and for growing the movement, but if you are alone and you are scared, encouragement to build community is just as much about finding your people in person as it is about forming coalitions with those different in you.
Another important note is that finding people like you should be a starting point, not an ending point. The goal of this is not to find friends, though that's a good start. The goal is to build dual power, which is done by working together with others and having open doors to join the movement. Once you've found some friends or communities, work to ensure that they are open to all, that you are reaching the people who most need the work you are doing, and that you are not simply making yourself feel good or just having a good time with your friends.
Activism is not cold-calling.
Activism is not cold-calling, and this is critically important to understand.
I'm seeing a lot of posts on here about 'building bridges' and 'finding community,' and then (extremely valid) response posts saying "BUT HOW??" And I'm going to explain something that can be very counter-intuitive: there is strategy involved in community.
As a longtime volunteer labour organizer, I’ve taken and taught many trainings on the strategy of talking. Something that surprises a lot of people is the very first thing you do in a union campaign. You sit down with your organizing committee, take out pen and paper, and literally map it out. You draw a physical map of the workplace: where are the entrances, exits, break rooms, supervisor offices. Essentially, ‘where is it safe to have a union conversation.’ Then you draw another physical chart of your coworkers. You sort out who is union-friendly, openly hostile to unions, or somewhere in the middle, and then you plan out very deliberately and carefully who talks to whom and in what order.
Consider: If Vocally Leftist Jane walks up to Conservative David and says "hey what do you think about unions," David is going to shut down immediately. He's not inclined to listen to Jane. But if Jane talks to Moderate Jason and brings him into the fold, then Jason is a far more effective strategic choice to talk to David, and David may actually hear him out without an instant reaction.
IMPORTANT CAVEAT: If Conservative David turns out to be Alt-Right David, and could be dangerous to follow organizers, we write him off. We are not trying to reach Alt-Right David. We are trying to reach Conservative David, who may actually be persuaded to find solidarity with other employees as fellow workers. Jason is a safe scout to find out which one he is. It does no one any good if Leftist Jane (or even Moderate Jane who is a visible minority) talks to Alt-Right David and puts herself on his radar. Not only has she done nothing to convince Alt-Right David to join a union - she's probably actively turned him against the idea - but now she's also in danger and the entire campaign is at risk. NOBODY WANTS THIS. Jane was NOT a hero for doing this. The organizing committee was foolish and enacted a terrible strategy to everyone's detriment.
Where you can make a difference is with people who will listen to you. You having a conversation with your well-meaning but clueless Centrist Democrat Auntie, and maybe gently helping her understand some things the media has been glossing over, is way more strategically useful than you marching up to MAGA Neighbour You've Met Once and trying to "build community" or "understand" them. They don't care. They're impervious, dangerous, and cruel. But maybe your beloved auntie will think about what you said, and then talk to her friend Anna who IDs as "fiscally conservative" but didn't vote because she can't bring herself to get on board with Trump. Then perhaps Anna talks to her brother Nic who has MAGA leanings but isn't all the way there yet. Proto-MAGA Nic would not have listened to you, nor would he have listened to Centrist Democrat Auntie, but he might absorb some of what his sister is saying.
This is not a cop-out or an echo chamber. This is you spending your time and energy strategically and safely. You are not a useful activist to anyone if you’re dead. Anyone who is telling you to hurl yourself directly at MAGA assholes like cannon fodder has no understanding of the strategy behind community building, and you should feel comfortable writing them off.
Last point: If you are tired, emotionally devastated, and/or in danger: take a break. This post is for people who would feel better jumping into action, not for people who are too overwhelmed to even think about it right now. You are worth so much even if you’re not actively Doing Activism, and your rest is worth more than “a break period so you can recharge and Do More Activism.” We all deserve the individual dignity of being worthy of comfort, rest & safety just on the basis of being human, outside of whatever we're doing for others' benefit. To deny ourselves that dignity is to devalue ourselves, and that’s the absolute last thing any of us should be doing right now.
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gallavichsreddie1128 · 17 hours ago
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I’m Sorry (Rafe Cameron)
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Description: Rafe didn’t tell the Pogues that Y/N (his wife and their ex best friend) (and JJ’s ex) would be on this trip to get the crown with them.
Word Count: 2,558
Rafe didn’t tell the pogues that his wife, their ex best friend, would be on the boat. JJ and her dated for a while but things didn’t work out and she ended up in the arms of Rafe Cameron.
The pogues disowned her after they found out that she was dating him. She was heartbroken and Rafe put her heart back together. She was with him while he stirred the boat. The others outside the door talking about them.
She knew that they didn’t trust Rafe and they probably didn't trust her. She didn’t blame them but she had hoped that this would make them see that they could trust them, mostly her. “Rafe, Y/N.” John B said the couple’s names.
They both turned to look at the group that was by the door. “Hey guys.” Y/N said but her voice was quiet. She hadn’t talked to them in so long and to hear her name fall from his lips was crazy. “We just want peace.” That would have been simple until JJ decided to punch him.
Y/N felt rage through her body at him doing that. Almost like JJ had always wanted to do that, probably has. “REALLY?” Y/N yelled at him. “I don’t trust him, none of us do. Not sure if we even trust you.” He said. That had hurt her a lot.
She wasn’t the reason their relationship ended, it was him. Rafe fixed her and sure he wasn’t the best guy but it was enough for her. “I’m not the one who fucked you over JJ, you fucked over me.” Y/N said. 
Y/N waited for Rafe to wake up. It was a battle but she convinced them not to tie him up. She had food and pain killers waiting for him. He woke a few hours after the incident and looked around, “Hey babe. I brought you some food and painkillers.” Y/N told him.
He was pissed and wanted them off the boat after that but again Y/N had to convince him not too. “He punched me. Let’s not pretend that this is just about me not being trustworthy.” Rafe said to her as they ate. Y/N raised her eyebrows.
He was probably right. “Yeah well that was 3 years ago, Rafe.” She was over it and was even ready to forgive him but JJ didn’t feel the same. Maybe JJ was still in love with her after all. 
The boat started to rock like crazy causing them to get up and see what was going on. It was a disaster waiting to happen. The boat was crashing into the water and flooding. “Guys what’s going on?” She asked. “The storm.” Kie said. Y/N managed to make her way to where John B was.
JJ and Sarah are also there. It was bad, so bad to the point that Y/N ended up in the water. “Y/N.” JJ yelled and grabbed a raft and threw it in the water. “I’m coming.” He yelled and jumped in the water after her.
Rafe got there just in time to see them get covered by a big wave. He screamed his wife’s name and Sarah managed to hold him back so they didn’t lose more people. 
Rafe was crying and freaking out. The others had hope that they would turn up but Rafe had lost too much. They all felt bad and guilty that they treated them like that and realized that they aren’t bad people. Y/N never was and she might be dead. Sarah couldn’t help but cry.
Maybe it was the guilt or the sadness but she was crying so hard. Rafe was thinking about it so much. His wife was most likely dead and JJ jumped in after her. If they were alive he couldn’t even be mad about it. What if JJ had saved her life but what if she realized that she still loved him?
Rafe was deep in thought that he didn’t realize John B looking out in the distance at two people. “Guys.” Everyone looked over at the two people walking towards them. Rafe jumped up and ran to them. As he got closer he saw his wife and he laughed in relief.
She saw him and ran to him as well until they collapsed on the ground in a hug. Both of them were crying and saying that they love one another. JJ watched as the couple kissed and laughed in relief. He saved her life and though she was thankful, she was not going to leave rafe for him. 
“I saved her life.” JJ tells the others as they all sit around the fire. “And I am thankful for that JJ.” She said to him. He couldn’t meet her eyes, why was it that he thought she would love him all over again now? “Thanks for saving her.” Rafe said to him.
Everyone was shocked by that but also it made sense. Y/N was his wife after all.  Rafe wanted to be mad and yell at him but he couldn’t. She might not be alive if it wasn’t for him. But the thought of JJ and her together sickened him. Rafe wasn’t an idiot and saw right through JJ.
He knew that JJ was hoping for her to love him again and that’s what scared him. What broke him out of his thoughts was her yawning in his arms. “Well, I’m tired. Goodnight guys.” She said. Rafe followed her to where she was sleeping and laid down next to her. He pulled her body right up against his and he felt her snuggle up against him.   
Hearing that Sarah was pregnant actually made Y/N happy. She knew that John B and Sarah would be good parents and she was very excited for them. Rafe and her wanted kids but Rafe was scared. He never wanted to treat his kids the way he was treated.
Sure he loved his dad but it wasn’t a hidden fact that he wasn’t the greatest dad. But Rafe had no reaction to hearing that Sarah was pregnant. Y/N wanted to ask him about it but they really had no time. When Rafe almost got arrested for something the others did, it slipped her mind.
And Rafe had a lot of questions for her when they were walking around. “Did he try anything after saving you?” He asked after buying them clothes. “No. We barely talked.” Which was true. She thanked him and even hugged him but besides that they didn’t talk. “Did he tell you that he was still in love with you?” She looked at him like he had three heads. She shook her head, “No because he isn’t.” Rafe wanted to argue that factor but instead asked another question.
“Do you feel anything for him after that?” “Rafe, what?” She asked. “He saved your life and did something I couldn’t.” She rolled her eyes and huffed. Whether he was going to admit it or not she knew that was his worst fear. “Rafe, I can assure you I don’t love him. I love you.” She tells him.
Before he could respond he notices someone and pulls Y/N with him up against the wall. The people were talking about Groff. They listened and figured that he was close by. 
Rafe didn’t wanna leave her alone so he bought her a four wheeler and told her once he has Groff to speed off with them. She nods and waits for her man as he kicks some ass and gets Groff. Before Groff could say anything to her they drove off. She followed Rafe to wherever it was that he was headed.
She got off the four wheeler and Rafe immediately started to question Groff. Groff didn’t even get to say anything to Y/N with how Rafe was questioning him. Groff didn’t have the money anymore but he had the map to the treasure. Y/N gasped when they started fighting and Rafe took those things from him.
The Pendant was beautiful. Y/N couldn’t wait to wear it but that slipped her mind as Rafe pushed him in the well. “HAHA CHECKMATE BITCH.” Y/N bit her lip, finding that hot but knew it wasn’t the right time. He handed her the pendant and she put it on. “It looks beautiful on you.” He winks at her. She smiled at him and he looked at the map. They had a long way to go. 
“You know it was really hot when you pushed Groff into that well.” She said to him. He looked over at her and smirked, “My wife is a freak.” She laughed at him and shook her head, “Anything you do I find hot, Rafe.” He looked back at the map as they walked.
“Yeah well I would love to fuck you right now after hearing that but we gotta get our money first.” She sighed. It was truly unfortunate that they couldn’t. “Give me the pendant.” He says and she takes it off and hands it to him.
He tries to read the map with it but gets frustrated. “Here.” She said and took the necklace from him. She used to do this treasure hunting stuff with the pogues all the time. He smiled as he watched her figure it out. 
Rafe, who had the map in his hand, held up his hands as they were held at gunpoint. Y/N also held up her hands and looked at her husband, nervously. “Let her go she has nothing to do with this.” Rafe tries but they don’t care. “Drop the map.” Rafe nods and announces that he’s doing it slowly.
Y/N couldn’t look anywhere but her husband, missing her old friends ready to shoot the guys holding them hostage. It was in a flash of a second that Sarah shot at them and Rafe took Y/N’s hand and they ran. The pogues followed them. Rafe picked Y/N up and ran faster. She told him to wait as she saw the pogues but he didn’t listen until they barged through the door. “Next time we’ll let you get shot.” Kie tells him but Y/N thanks her. He sets Y/N down but still has the map. “Groff didn’t have the money.” She says to the others.
“Hand over the map.” Y/N looks at Rafe knowing he wouldn’t go down without a fight. “Rafe, baby give them it. They know what they are doing.” He looks at her, “You also know.” While that was true this was their fight now. “Dad would want us to work together.” Rafe was about to break. He believed that Sarah killed him. Y/N didn’t. “Rafe, they are willing to work together.” Y/N tries but he yells at Sarah saying that he couldn’t trust her because of Ward. “Dad died saving me. I was gonna die.” Y/N felt tears in her own eyes. “You’re so quick to blame me for everything.” That was true. “You’re gonna leave me just like everyone else in my life has besides Y/N. She’s the only one keeping me going. You’ll ruin that. He’s trying to ruin that.” Rafe pointed at JJ.
JJ stayed silent as Sarah talked to him, “I’m all you have.” “Baby look at me. She’s telling the truth. I know them baby, they aren’t bad people. Nothing will ever come between us.” Her heart broke at the sight of him crying. “We’ll still get our cut?” Rafe asked Sarah. “Yes.” He goes to hand her the map but she pushes it away and she hugs him. Y/n smiled at the sight and rubbed his back as he tried to hold back tears. 
“Hun, I’m going down there to stop them.” “No.” “Rafe, they are killers.” Kie said to him. He looks at the two of them. “I’m a killer too.” He says and if he said that at any other point, she would have been so turned on but right now they were on a mission. Kie and Y/N couldn’t really see JJ but kept telling him to hurry up. He was trying but he was going to find it no matter what.
Y/N kept looking behind her hoping to see Rafe but she couldn’t. She couldn’t lose him and this was making her think she would. “JJ we have to go.” Kie yelled at him. He was reaching into the eye of the sand statue and it looked like he pulled something out but she couldn’t be so sure.
The sand was everywhere. She heard yelling and cheering from him and smiled to herself. He got the crown. A few minutes later he showed them the crown and they all hugged. It was a nice feeling, one that she missed. They ran down to get the others and Y/N’s mind was on her husband. She had to make sure he was okay.
She yelled his name as she looked for him but gasped as she saw Groff. She hid so he couldn’t see her and he grabbed Kie. Y/N had to cover her mouth. She was hoping that he wouldn’t hurt her but of course he was willing to trade her for the crown. They were so close.
Y/N watched as the trade was made and sighed in relief. She was glad her friends were okay. Sure she wanted the money back but their lives were and always will be more important. She turned to go find Rafe but heard Kie gasping. Y/N turned around and her eyes widened, her heart dropped and her soul left her body. Groff had stabbed JJ.
She didn’t care anymore and ran over to him as Groff ran off. She thought about chasing him but didn’t want to get killed. “JJ.” She cried and he looked at her. For once since they reunited he looked at her and he didn’t look mad. Kie and her helped him to the ground.
“You’re gonna be okay. We will get you out of here.” Kie said. JJ gave them a smile, “It’s okay.” “JJ we can get you help.” Y/N tells him. He looks over at her, “Y/N I’m sorry that I messed up with you and never gave you what you deserved.” “JJ I don’t care about that stuff.” He could barely get out words but he had to tell her, “Kie I never told you my wish.” Kie was crying.
“JJ it’s okay…” “I have everything I could ever wish for right now.” He holds both of their hands. “My best friend.” He looks at Kie. “And the woman I’ll always love.” He looks at Y/N. Y/N starts crying harder. “I love you both.”  He said and his grip on their hands weakened. He was dead.
The others started showing up and everyone was crying. Rafe showed up and saw Y/N put JJ’s hand in his lap. He couldn’t even feel relief about this, nothing about it was. He wasn’t jealous or mad cuz for once he knew that she was his and that no matter what they were together.
He got on the ground with her. “Hey.” He said and she collapsed in his lap crying for her friend. “It’s okay baby. I understand and I promise you we will avenge him.” He whispered to her. One thing she learned about being married to Rafe Cameron was that he kept his word. Especially on Revenge. 
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xazse · 10 hours ago
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Warnings: Centaur!Suguru x Centaur!Satoru x female!reader + smut + size difference(ofc) + fantasyAu + big cocks + squirting + jerking off + big!men + notproofread + VERY NASTY!! + you may not be into this and that’s okay! Skip and wait for my other works, love you<33
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Centaur!Satoru and Suguru are huge men, bigger than you they tower over you with broad chests and thick bodies that look sculpted Greek gods.
They found you passed out deep in the forest, No human had ever come this deep, they’ve heard of your kind but never actually seen small things like you, only the elders have seen humans and their terrible nature.
They’ve been warned countless times that they aren’t to be trusted. But what could a thing like you do to them? They could easily snap your neck should you become aggressive and so far you haven’t. They’ve been secretly nursing you back to health in a little cave they fixed up for you. With a broken ankle you can’t do much moving, they could let you ride on their backs but they’re curious things who want to know a little bit more about you, so they’ll keep you for just a tad bit longer.
You’re so sweet too, the stories about your kind don’t compare to your innate sense of kindness, you allow them to ask allKinds of questions no matter how weird or personal they get, Satoru had really gotten curious about your feet, how do you manage to balance on just two? He needs four to support his body properly.
You giggled so sincerely and explained that to him in the most make-a sense way possible.
You love touching and rubbing their hefty backs, when they lay down near you, your hand always finds a way to rub their soft fur, they seem to enjoy it. Things get a little weird when they find themselves unusually interested about what’s in between your legs, they asked and you obliged to let them see but not underneath your panties.
You shyly spread your legs and lift up your shirt, your fat clothed cunt on display for them to see, they stare for a little: intrigued at how different you are from their females. Then the touching begins, it goes from just looking at you to you allowing them to rub you through your underwear.
Suguru is the first to move closer to you to take his thumb and rub up and down, when he grazes your clit and sees the hitched breath you hold back he does it again, then again. Gaining even more cute reactions out of you.
Satoru is an impatient thing who wants in too, he slips his finger beneath your underwear and quickly pulls back: you’re wet, soaked in fact.
He slips his fingers back in, rubbing them inbetween your plump lips, he moves down far enough to feel where your wetness is more prominent, when he pushes inside that little opening you let out the lewdest moan you’ve had all evening.
Oh.
That spurs Suguru to also slip his hand into your panties, he rubs the little nub at the top whilst Satoru prods his fingers in that little twitchy hole.
Suguru being the most level headed is the one who’s bringing his hand to his own unsheathed cock, you get a glance through glassy hazy eyes at him: he’s thick and long, a nasty combo to have.
He starts stroking himself in tune with the way he rubs you clit, the way he squeezes himself looks like it hurts but he seems unfazed by the grip, he just keeps his eyes trained on your greedy cunt already taking two of Satoru’s fingers.
“Oh god… do it faster Satoru.” Suguru moans out so unashamed, asking for Satoru to give you more pleasure so he in turn can feel more as well. Satoru abides and further ruins your pretty pussy.
You’re suddenly being forced stomach down on a hefty rock, Satoru is the one mounting you, you think he’s forgetting just how massive he is that you can’t possible take his cock, even his tip looks to be too much.
“Toru, calm down, she can’t take you right now.” Suguru telling satoru to calm down like the look in his eye isn’t excited at the thought of Satoru just forcing his entire length in, Suguru is still jerking off his slick cock in a rough manner.
“Mhn… a little- jus’ a little” Satoru rubs his tip against your pussy, dipping inbetween your lips just to cover it in your sopping wetness. You help him push his thick tip in a little, the stretch is something you’ve never felt before, it hurts so bad but it makes you want more.
He gets a little past his tip in, and starts rocking his hips agaisnt you, making you take anymore than this is off the table he’d seriously injure you.
Suguru can be heard, groaning when he sees you’ve squirted on Satoru’s cock, his tip remind you.
You’re left panting opened mouthed, filled leaky cunt and Satoru not even finished with you.
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thewistlingbadger · 18 hours ago
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All the shade in the world when we say we want complex women characters we want more Ellie Williams and other characters whose actions make our insides twist, not frustrate us. We want characters that we hold beloved to become corrupted by fate but still have the opportunity for some redemption.
Caitlyn Kiramman is an interesting character, but she does not fit the bill for the "complex female characters" we desire. Jinx, Vi, and Mel better fit that bill. All three of those women have given us reason to both love and despise them. Many a difficult conversation have they been the subject of. And to me personally Cait just falls flat. And I don't think it's her own fault I think it's the writing. Season 1 cait is 🔛🔝 but season two cait? I understand that she's grieving her mother, HOWEVER, we barely saw any interaction between the two of them and the little that we did see showed us that she wasn't fucking with her like that/they had a complex and somewhat negative relationship. Imagine how the season opened with Cait actually finding her mom's dead body. We would all feel sick, and we'd all pity her. Or imagine had we been given a flashback between her and her mother when she was a child in the garden, having a good time. Or imagine how they just even mentioned the fact that their relationship was strained. Losing a parent is bad, what makes it worse is having unfinished business with that parent (which is why people love the story of Ellie Williams, it's why we understand why she wants to go after her father's killer other than the fact that the killer murdered her father). Caitlin only having one motivation to go after jinx, to descend into hell, to avenge her mother is not even. "Jinx killed mom now I kill Jinx" there's nothing compelling about that. We've seen the story several times.
Just to give a direct comparison.
Jinx's dad was a man she had an extremely complicated relationship with and this relationship was showcased throughout the season. The fact that she essentially lost her sister and killed her father at the same time is what pushes her over the edge. We completely understand why she's going to burn the world down because the show told us over and over and over again. Jinx always manages to lose the people she loves the most, and this time it's happened directly by her own hand.
Jinx's missile only kills three people, blows up a building, and inspiresb fear in the hearts of pilties and amazment in the hearts of Zaunites. Her actions were bad, but ultimately very few people actually suffered from her actions. The council only lost three people, it's not like pilltover's governmentless now (like how zaun is). The damage to the building wasn't that bad and it's easily repairable. And overall from her actions alone the citizens of pilltover are still safe.
Now let's look at cait. She's actively ruining the lives of zaunites by mass gassing them (we also how many kids were on the street. We all know how many homeless and disabled people there are in zaun. Now they're all negatively affected due to cait's lust of vengeance) and by arresting them when they've committed no crime. She's parading around the city with deadly weapons, under the authority of which she does not have! Cait abuses her name and her position as an enforcer to DEMAND that the council follow her plan. She had absolutely no right to storm into there and act like she had the power to call shots. What's even more gross is that she completely lied to them! Her goal was never to locate jinx, it was always to kill Jinx. If she truly cared about bringing jinx to proper justice, she would have ensured she be brought alive. If she truly cared about dismantling shimmer, she would have done that first bc A. Vi knows exactly where the factory is and B. According to silco, the last attack already cut the supply in half. It would have been easy to finish that off. Caitlyn acts like she's judge, jury, and Executioner the entire time she's down there. Her prejudice increases exponentially AS does her willingness to he openly prejudice. She literally refers to Vi's countrymen as animals, and accuses vi of being disloyal several times! and must we truly mention the assault she did? Must we mention that she was willing to kill a kid? That's a line jinx herself has not even willingly crossed yet, and she's practically crossed all other lines.
At the moment Caitlin is not a character who's doing the wrong things for what she believes is the right reason. She's acting out of complete selfishness. Even jinx, who committed an act of terrorism, didn't do it for herself. She did it for her dad, who worked so hard to bring down piltover and didn't live to see it because he refused to trade his daughter for Independence and peace.
So these are just only a few reasons why people don't support her this season. And her level of oppression, arrogance, and maliciousness is exactly why people are calling out those who defend her, because the majority of her defenders are privileged and white.
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"We want more complex female characters" you can't even handle an angry, grieving daughter who just had her mother killed by her future wife's sister, shut the fuck up
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userautumn · 3 days ago
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Please. Tommys helicopter crashing while him and Buck are still broken up? That would be such great drama.
You know what I want? I want Buck to get mad. He has yet to actually get mad at a love interest. He's been hurt and confused, but I want him to get angry. I want him to go out and fuck like he's getting revenge on Tommy, even though he's the one who got left behind again, and I want him to convince himself he's absolutely fine. Eddie can see it, of course. Bobby and Maddie and all the people who love him can see that he's not fine, but I want Buck to pretend he is like he'll die if he doesn't. He deletes Tommy's name from his contacts and dumps all his stuff in the trash and erases his existence from his life like he's nothing more than yesterday's news.
I want this to continue through the rest of the season, long enough that both the characters and the audience start to think that maybe Buck is fine after all. Maybe this whole thing with Tommy was just a mistake, a hiccup. Maybe Tommy was right and saw writing on the wall that Buck didn't. Maybe he was smart by getting out when he did because Buck doesn't cry. He doesn't vent to Eddie, or show up on his doorstep like a kicked puppy. He lives fast and vibrant, and shows up to work covered in hickeys and lipstick and other people's cologne, and if Tommy really was as transformative of a love as he believed he was, shouldn't he be devastated?
Anyway.
Fast forward to the season finale. Athena has been following a case of corporate corruption where an auto and aeronautics manufacturer has been exposed for using faulty parts in their vehicles that have resulted in auto collisions and deaths across the country. None of this really concerns or interests Buck at all, if he's being honest. He fixes his own car for the most part (Tommy showed him how) and that which he can't do, he takes to his usual mom-and-pop mechanic for them to work on. Which is to say that, his life consists of sex and work, so news reports of [Same Company] being responsible for a Cessna crashing in Northern California don't really filter through.
Not until the 118 is called to a helicopter crash just outside of Los Angeles.
Even then, Buck doesn't think about Tommy. Why would he? Tommy Kinard is barely even a memory at this point, just an idea on the edge of his brain, an almost that was quickly buried. Helicopters crash all the time, so he has no reason to believe there's anything out of the ordinary about this one. But then when they're en route, Maddie's voice comes over the radio, tight with emotion and forcibly professional in a way that makes him immediately nauseous: Captain Nash, please be advised that the helicopter in question is one of our own. It's an LAFD chopper. Then, Hen and Eddie and Chimney and Bobby all turn to look at him, and Buck has nowhere to run from their gaze. Even if he did, he couldn't, because he feels paralyzed. Bobby's voice asking if there are any survivors, and Maddie's voice saying she's unsure get lost to the thrum of his heartbeat in his ears. Every repressed emotion, every memory, every bit of desperate longing and grief and love and anger comes rushing back in full force and all Buck can do is sit there while the engine weaves through Los Angeles traffic.
Tommy is fine, of course. He codes on the way to the hospital (Buck performing CPR on his boyfriend while begging him to stay alive is my drug), but once all is said and done, once he's come out of surgery with a little more metal in his body than he went in there with, he's okay. Buck isn't, not by a mile. He's full of too many emotions that he doesn't know how to sort through, chief among them being love, followed closely by anger, and then, guilt, of all things. But after Tommy opens his eyes, after Buck breaks down spectacularly, and after they finally confess that they love each other, Buck makes Tommy look him in the eyes:
"You don't get to run from this. Not again. I mean it. If you get scared, you talk to me. If you need to slow down, you talk to me. You don't make decisions for me, for us, and expect me to be okay with it. That's not how this works."
"Okay."
"I mean it, Tommy. I can't -"
"I mean it too. I promise. Okay?"
"Okay."
Anyways. Yeah. That's how I would do it.
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lassofthemoon · 1 day ago
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I don't know why the writers are hinting towards Nandor having romantic interest in The Guide but honestly, I'm not too worried.
May I remind you that Nandor has a pattern of romanticizing people and briefly settling in toxic relationships when he is lonely and depressed.
He liked Meg simply because she gave him good customer service.
He adored Gail who strung him along for decades and tossed him aside like he was nothing as soon as she was turned.
He joined a cult and slept with Jan who was manipulating and brainwashing him when he was most vulnerable and emotionally unstable.
He selected Marwa to marry because she was the wife that least threatened his ego and then wished her to have zero free will, changed her personality and transformed her into an entirely new person.
He became obsessed with Freddie simply because he was Guillermo's boyfriend and since he was miserable in his own relationship, he sabotaged Guillermo's relationship.
My point is Nandor's coping mechanism for his eternal loneliness and losing Guillermo is seeking out shallow relationships. We only have 5 episodes left and the writers must be planting seeds for a reason. I just can't imagine the writers being this careless and pairing Nandor with The Guide last minute. Keep in mind, the writers were green lit for seasons 5 and 6 at the same time. If they were really going to scrap Nandermo and push Nandor and The Guide, then it would have made more sense to plant seeds of a budding relationship between the two at the beginning of season 5. So why now?
As much as I like The Guide and Kristen Schaal, her character has always been a plot device. In my opinion, her entire story arch in season 5 was for the writers to have a reason as to why Nandor would be in a cage when Guillermo confesses to betraying him. Nandor needed to be restrained somehow in that moment to prevent him from killing Guillermo right then and there.
My prediction is that if Nandor makes a move on The Guide then she will be the one to call him out for only showing interest in her because he's lonely. I'd like to think that The Guide has enough self-respect to not reciprocate (I admit that I haven't watched 6x06 yet) since he was so aloof and rude to her all last season and barely had any memorable or meaningful interactions with her in earlier seasons. Maybe if Nandor is called out, he'll realize the error of his ways and admit that what he truly wants is Guillermo.
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