#And there was more on the windscreen

[tarrarre]

How is it even possible for this much bird shite to accumulate within a few days?

[pfhwrittes]

i'm debating with myself whether or not i post a list of terms used in the uk after reading the sentence "put 'im in the trunk" in a fic where an english character is saying that line.

i'm not saying it's wrong, i'm just saying it's more likely the character would say "put 'im in the boot" is all.

[dogthemaverick]

At what point is it acceptable to fake my death so I don't have to go back to work

[rhysintherain]

Well shit, that sounds familiar...

I just thought this was because I lived in the north too long.

One thing I find helps with this: exploiting the wind chill effect that's given me hypothermia several times in the past!

Ride a bike somewhere instead of walking, for instance. The air movement will keep you cool and coasting down hills means you don't have to work as hard to get where you're going.

It also helps to roll down the windows while you're driving if you don't have AC.

Soak a cotton bandana in cold water and tie it around your neck. That's a favorite archaeologist trick on hot dig sites.

Eat or drink something cold, like ice water or popsicles.

Also wide-brimmed hats are your friend. The bigger the better. Basket woven hats also have great airflow to keep you cool.

Heat Intolerance

This disability pride month I'd like to talk about heat intolerance. Because honestly although it's not the first health issue that presented symptoms in my life. It was the first time I was like "I don't think my body works right".

And honestly given disability pride month is during one of the hottest months in the year. It seems fitting. Especially because there's a lot of disabilities and medications that cause it.

What is heat intolerance?

Simply speaking it's the inability for the body to regulate it's temperatures especially in hot settings to cool itself down.

Why is awareness important?

Because gaslighting people or worse not providing them a place to cool down just because you "feel fine" is extremely fucking dangerous.

What are the medicines that can cause heat intolerance?

Antihistamines (Allergy medications) . Decongestants (Sudafed or any medication that has the D at the end of it). Stimulants (ADHD medications. Steroids. Caffeine.) Beta-blockers (blood pressure medications). Overactive bladder treatment. Psychiatric medications (including but not limited to medications for depression and anxiety). Pain relievers. Antibiotics.

What medical conditions can cause heat intolerance?

EDS (Elhers-Danlos syndrome). Autism. ADHD. Migraines. Brain/spinal-cord injury. Sensory processing disorder. Chronic fatigue syndrome. Endocrin problems. POTS. Menopause. Hypothyroidism. Diabetes. Heart Disease. Multiple sclerosis. Obesity. Mental health disorders.

What should I do if I suspect I have heat intolerance?

Reduce time outside during hot months. Keep your electrolytes up. Drink plenty of water. Stay out of the sun whenever possible if outside. Be aware of the symptoms of heat exhaustion and heat stroke.

Clothes that are best worn for heat intolerance. Loose lightweight breathable fabrics. Natural fibers. Long sleeves that protect from sunburn as sunburns will increase your risk. Light clothes that reflect light. Wide brimmed hats that shade the face and neck.

Cool. So what are those symptoms I'm supposed you be looking for?

Headaches. Excessive fatigue. Mood changes. Muscle cramping or weakness. Nausea/ vomiting. Rapid heartbeat. Excessive sweating or not sweating at all.

When should I do to the doctor?

If you suspect you have heat intolerance you can go to your PCP to discuss what medications you may be on and what you can do about it. Otherwise, please go to the emergency room if you have symptoms of heat stroke.

This is good information and all but why are you making this post?

To raise awareness. Not just for the people that have it but weren't aware of what it was called. But for all of the idiots that tried to gaslight me when I was in school because I was like "I don't think this is normal. Every time we do our mile run outside I vomit all over the place but other kids aren't doing that."

Also because people always blame me for over heating if I wear long sleeves or pants. I always like to take notes from what people in the middle east wear because they literally live in the excessive heat and spend long hours in the excessive heat. Often in clothing that covers most of their body. They've gotta know what they're doing, right?

I have some type of xenophobic comment about why people from the middle east cover up

Shut the fuck up 😊

-fae

[kradnie]

I need to finally write another part of my fic I'm thinking what song I could name it after

[paskariu]

I love it that every time I do something with my car that isn't washing it, some random dude spawns in to watch me like a hawk lmao

[somecallmekay]

Trigger Warning: Description of death, arguing, manslaughter I guess. It's kinda artsy, but you know, be safe. Q

I am arguing with my partner. The argument leads into a screaming match. I slowly realise all sounds became more muted. The saturation dissappears. My partner shoves me. I lose balance. I take a few steps back to recover, but my heel catches on something. Time slows down 999%. I hear a female voice singing. I am slowly falling back. I try to react, but my body is stuck in the original time frame. I can only process the surroundings, not act accordingly. The verse of the song is very morose and tragic. This does not bode well for me. The chorus hits as electric guitars and drums kick in. The singer is using words like "break" and "shatter". I do not like this. Fear engulfs my mind. I try to pray, but to no avail. I am about 45° to the ground now. The second verse is discussing regret and wishing the singer could take it all back. I try to make peace. I understand that I won't make it much further. If I'm lucky I'll live until the end of the song. My death is inevitable. It would be very cinematic. As the second chorus hits, I catch a glimpse of my partner. They are in shock. Clearly this song is written from their perspective. I am so dead. The guitar solo has started. I am forced to close my eyes by the narrative. I suspect I look peaceful. I am not. As the solo winds down, I feel something on the back of my head. The third chours is just about to hit. I realise I won't make it past this one. I can practically feel the cinematic cracks being added in post. I hear the first note of the band coming back full force. Then there is nothing.

[pseudowho]

"...alright. Just the usual ones? Night time too...and tampons. Don't ever apologise. Alright. We'll be home soon. I love you."

The mid-morning traffic, less frantic now than an hour before, shhhaaaahed around the car. From the passenger seat, Yuuji watched Kento with a fascination about to bubble over with suppressed laughter. Kento put the phone down. Yuuji, just a boy, grinned, almost teasingly at Kento.

"Tampons, huh, Nanamin?"

Kento looked to Yuuji, flicking the windscreen wipers on to rid the screen of drifting cherry blossom. His face remained neutral, sincerely questioning. Yuuji scoffed, bold as brass, before continuing.

"Jeez Nanamin...you're such a simp."

Kento's eyes narrowed, searching for meaning. He repeated, slowly, the word unfamiliar upon his tongue.

"...'simp'."

"You'd do anything for her, right?"

"Is that...a bad thing? You say the word, not that I know it, as if it's derogatory."

Kento tapped on his phone, and Yuuji backpedaled, his grin sliding away to a wide-mouthed grimace as he waved his hands in a fit of no, wait, I can explain. Kento appeared to be reading, his face growing dour. He huffed, one short puff of air from his nose. He tucked his phone away.

"Ah-- Nanamin-- I didn't mean--"

"A simp, hmm? Alright. Come along, Yuuji."

They drove. Yuuji bit his nails as he stared out into traffic. Kento was silent, calm.

And Kento took Yuuji on errands.

At the Conbini, Kento collected pads, tampons, snacks and pain relief.

"Do you have any of the night time ones?" Kento asked the assistant, holding up a pack of pads, unashamed, as Yuuji tried to sink into the floor, just a boy. As the assistant walked away, Kento asked Yuuji, calmly.

"Would a simp do this?"

"Ah...jeez, I...yeah, I guess so."

"Alright."

In the Florist's, Kento was meticulous with the sweating assistant, identifying only the finest blooms of your favourite wildflowers. He commandeered, insisting they were wrapped in brown paper, stamped with wax and tied with ribbons. Tapping his fingers on the counter, bored, Yuuji's reverie was once more broken by Kento's smooth timbre.

"Would a simp do this?"

Kento walked up beside Yuuji, with a spray of sweet botanicals in his arms. Yuuji squirmed beneath the schooling.

"Yeah, I...I reckon so. Probably."

"Splendid. Come along."

At the launderette, collecting your repaired jacket; "Would a simp do this?"

At your parents' house, dropping off a birthday card; "Would a simp do this?"

At Jujutsu High, filing some late paperwork for you; "Would a simp do this?"

In the car, calling Ijichi to cancel drinks the following night; "Would a simp do this?"

By the time Kento had completed his errands, Yuuji sulked, just a boy, begrudging how overboard Kento had gone, all because Yuuji had used slang that meant nothing apart from something Kento couldn't understand.

Yuuji stood back in the hallway, shucking his shoes off, as Kento walked ahead.

Yuuji's eyes darted up, to you, shocked to see that you were...a mess. You could hide the tears all you liked, but your puffy lips and salt-sore cheeks told of a whole day of crying. The dinner Yuuji usually enjoyed wasn't made. The fragrant candles that Yuuji usually enjoyed weren't lit. The curtains were closed.

Yuuji felt vicariously guilty for something he had not done, but he listened to yours and Kento's mumbled conversation.

"...sorry...so shit...haven't done anything...needed you...Yuuji must be hungry, I..."

"...shhh...done nothing wrong...Ijichi cancelled tomorrow anyway...order take-out...come here..."

Kento held you in a rustle of bags and brown-papered flowers. He did not begrudge the tear stains on his lapels. He looked at you as though your very blood ran divine, when you gave the flowers and bag of snacks a watery smile, pressing a salty kiss to Kento's cheeks before walking to the kitchen.

As Kento and Yuuji stood back, watching you swipe your tears away before beginning to fill a vase with Kento's wildflowers, Yuuji dawned upon the cusp of a bold new understanding. Kento felt it, this gentle yearning, and took Yuuji by the hand over the horizon.

Kento's voice was, slow, considered, and gut-wrenchingly sincere.

"Never deny yourself the beauty of loving someone without restraint, for the fear of vulnerability, Yuuji. Never let anyone taint the way love should guide and consume you. Because if loving wholeheartedly is weakness...you shouldn't want to be strong."

Yuuji watched the gentle golden thread of joy that Kento had woven through your sadness. He shuffled, his hands in his pockets, his peachy head tilted down as he kicked at his shoes.

"...yeah, I get you. I'll... I'll be a simp too, then. When I find the one. And...and I'll be proud of it."

Kento smiled, pressing a bag of snacks to Yuuji's chest.

"And I'll be proud of you."

[moondirti]

working at a hardware store, you're too familiar with the odd customer. couples who come in with specifications so detailed, you can only imagine they're for kink purposes; women old enough to be knocked out by the fumes of the paint they purchase, looking to remodel after their husbands passing; men on the verge of a mid-life crises, more devoted to their lawns than they are their families. and though it takes a couple hours of dedicated customer service to get them out the door, satisfied with their purchase, that comes with the job that sees you paid. so it's not so bad. generally fine.

a one and done sort of thing.

(of course, that's because none of them hold a candle to this freak.)

cargo net, nylon cordage, duct tape, disinfectant. all that's missing is a shovel, and the police wouldn't fault you for calling this purchase in.

"moving?" you ask, tongue lashing against your best interests in face of the oppressive presence across the counter. a monster of a man, almost too big to fit through the store. thick arms and neck, a healthy serving of fat over every muscle, filling the space of his shirt beyond what it was sewn to handle. the camo balaclava is both ridiculous and an essential component to the intimidation he strikes in you, framing a set of eyes that squint at your remark.

(jesus, you didn't think people like him existed in real life.)

he looks like he's about to bite back, but decides against it.

"hunting." he says, then nudges the objects towards you like he has somewhere urgent to be at 10 pm. but okay, fine, you can take a hint. you scan the suspicious list of things and tally up his total.

"uh, 85 quid. thanks."

"bloody extortionate." the man mutters, stacking his purchases upon one, curled arm, before throwing a pink note your way.

nonplussed, you don't notice the offence immediately. the matter of payment is instead superseded by his offhand exit, his shoulder shoving open the door, head bowing to shrug out. and you watch as he walks across the parking lot, long strides taking him there in three steps, and watch as he slips around the brick perimeter. only then does your stomach settle.

but at that point, it's far too late.

50 pounds stare smugly up at you.

that asshole underpaid you.

by the grace of the gods (your manager), your shift ends soon after. it's a wonder you manage to get to your car at all, migraine splitting your skull in two. though it should be doing something to alleviate the pain, all your body wants to focus on is the lightened bulk of your wallet, now missing 35 quid after paying the difference out of pocket.

you take the time once you're seated to smash a fist repeatedly onto your steering wheel.

"fucking fuck! cock sucking bastard, son of a bitch!"

the screaming, though cathartic, drills your sorrows further into your head. you're temporarily blinded when your head slams back onto the headrest, phosphenes overwhelming your vision. little stars, ropes, knives and dots dancing over the windscreen.

it's a miracle you're able to discern the eyes in your rearview mirror as real.

"well, which is it?" the brute from earlier derides. his hand comes over your jaw, big enough to trap the whole lower half of your face in his grip. tucks his pinky under your chin, too, the makeshift muzzle keeping you from biting. it's all you can do to breath — long, filtered gulps of air, the space between his fingers smelling of salt. something sticky smears onto your nose. "am i a bastard, or the son of a bitch?"

not a one and done thing, then.

[strawchocoberry]

TOO LATE

ᯓ★ featuring. michael kaiser x fem reader 

ᯓ★ trigger warning. obsessive stalker ex || content warning. enemies to lovers, angst, smut, nipple play, oral sex, fingering, multiple orgasms, hate fuck, choking, spanking, handjob, orgasm denial, rough sex, dumbification, degradation kink

ᯓ★ synopsis. Fate is cruel. It can bring people together or tear them apart. But the ending is theirs to make.

❝Had your girlfriend at my house for two days

Should be obvious, the reason she stayed with me❞

ᯓ★ word count. 8.3k

⤷ note. originally posted on ao3 on April 20, 2024.

She ran and ran in the middle of this downpour, without any specific destination in mind. The moment she noticed him among the crowd, she turned around and started sprinting towards the opposite direction, wishing that he hadn’t noticed her as well. Her body trembled, not because it was soaked, but because it remembered that night. She couldn’t process for how long she’d been running. She was short on breath and her legs were about to give up, her speed decreasing, until her paces came to a halt. 

He was stressed and exhausted from a long day. All he wanted at the moment was something to help him take his mind off of his concerns and relax. He was driving around aimlessly through the night, the rain droplets splatting on the windscreen and mixing with the music soothed him. But it still wasn’t enough to calm every part of his turbulent mind. He needed something more — something that would allow him to shut his mind off and just give in to the moment. 

And as if the universe had heard both of them, they found themselves in the same club. They were alone and in desperate need of some company. Their eyes met amongst the sea of people separating them. It was a fervent inner desire that brought them together at that moment. When he walked up to her, he didn’t need too much time to convince her to leave with him. It was stupid of her to go along with him, she knew that very well. But something in him pulled her towards him, making it impossible to deny him. 

Entering the hotel room, he kissed her lips, taking his jacket off, then removing hers, before he cupped her cheeks and guided her towards the bed. He lay her down and hovered above her. He removed her shirt and bra, his hands immediately fondling her breasts and picking on her nipples, as he left his marks all over her neck. Grabbing the collar of his shirt, she pulled him back to her lips, whilst turning them over, her now being on top of him. He was surprised, but didn’t really mind; he found it electrifying. 

Ridding him of his shirt, she took a moment to admire the tattoo on his left side. Blue rose tattoos adorned his neck, which turned into intertwined thorny stems that resembled a chain through the entirety of his arm and culminated in a crown with a keyhole on his hand. She ran her fingers along it, mesmerised by its beauty. His eyes were locked on her, noticing how she couldn’t take her eyes off of it. Pushing himself off the mattress, he crushed her lips, averting her attention back to him. 

She pushed him back down and decorated the right side of his neck with her marks. She kissed her way down, taking his pants and boxers off, his hard cock springing free. She stroked him a few times, leaving kitten licks all over and lolling the tip, making him moan. Her lips were sinful, the way they wrapped perfectly around his shaft had him groaning in pleasure. Her tongue swirled around his cock, teasing that one vein in particular, making him reach his orgasm. He pulled himself out of that wicked mouth and stroked himself, ultimately cumming on her exposed titties. 

Grabbing her chin, he brought her lips to his, as he removed her remaining clothes. He rubbed two fingers in her folds, smirking at how wet she already was. Her cunt eagerly welcomed them inside, her throwing her head back, her body arching at his thrusts, as he took his sweet time nibbling on her breasts. She was holding tightly onto his shoulders, as moan after moan escaped her mouth. He smirked at how she creamed around his fingers, when he started stimulating her clit with his thumb. And oh, he loved how she clenched down at him, body shivering, the moment she reached her orgasm. 

As she was on her knees, her legs on either side of his, he took a condom from the pocket of his jeans, opened it with his teeth and slid it down his shaft. Aligning his cock with her hole, he placed his hands on her waist, then slowly pushed her down on him. The stretch of his thick cock made tears well up in her eyes, her breath suddenly caught on her throat. He kissed the tears away, as he slowly rocked her hips against his, his fingers running soothingly through her hair. Before long, craving more of him, she picked up the pace, bouncing now faster, moaning in ecstasy. And when her speed started dropping, he slammed her down on him, driving her to her release, him following a while after. 

It was around 3 am when they both fell back on the bed, their bodies dripping sweat and covered in marks. She told him to take a shower first, as she wanted to rest for a few minutes, not quite feeling her legs. When she walked out of the bathroom, while drying her hair with a towel, he was nowhere to be found. But he had left her a note, saying that she could stay till morning, as he had already taken care of the bill. She lay on the bed, still wearing her bathrobe and felt all the fatigue washing over her, as she fell asleep a few minutes later. 

“This is Y/N Y/L/N, our new assistant manager,” Noel Noa introduced her to his teammates. 

She smiled as each of them greeted her with a handshake. But her smile vanished momentarily as the last player extended his hand to her. 

“I’m Michael Kaiser, Bastard München’s U-20 forward.” 

“Nice to meet you.” She shook his hand smiling. 

He didn’t say anything, only flushed her a smile, which made her gulp, picking up a strange feeling of anger lurking behind it. She could think of why, but they didn’t have the time to discuss anything else, as Noa gathered all the players and informed them of today’s training schedule.

And so, her first day started. Since the team’s affairs were mostly handled by the manager, she as the assistant manager was reduced to minor labour, such as helping the players during their training. During the time she didn’t have anything to do, Y/N went through each player’s individual file, trying to learn more about them in order to better accommodate their needs. 

“What a small world we live in.” 

Y/N jolted surprised, hearing his voice amidst the dead silence. Turning around, she noticed Kaiser leaning against the doorframe of the locker room. He had just come out of the shower, hair dripping water down his abs, wearing only a pair of shorts, arms folded to his chest and blue eyes locked on hers. Curving his lips into a sinister smile, he walked slowly towards her, feasting on the pleasure of seeing her take steps back, until she hit the locker behind her. Kaiser took that chance and trapped her in the corner, catching her chin and forcing her to look at him. 

“You knew who I was, didn’t you?”

“No, I didn’t.”

“Bullshit!” he yelled, punching the locker room, inches away from her head.

“I didn’t!” she yelled back, defending herself. “I hadn’t realised until I saw you in the training grounds this morning.”

He sneered at how this woman took him for a fool. 

“You really are something else, aren’t you?” 

Her eyes wandered to his neck, looking at the hickeys she had left the previous night. 

“What do you want?” Y/N asked him. 

“Just admit already that last night was something you had planned.”

“I hadn’t. And quite frankly, I don’t understand the cause of your anger.”

“You used me,” Kaiser stated, voice laced with poison and madness. 

“And so did you,” Y/N countered. “We both consented to this mutual exploitation of each other.”

Irritated that he couldn’t deny her claims, he shut the open locker next to her and left. 

A few months had passed since then. Y/N got along well with all the players, except for Kaiser. Ness would occasionally give her the cold shoulder treatment, but she paid no mind, as she had quickly realised that it was Kaiser’s impact. Throughout the duration of these past few months, Kaiser kept treating her like a third-rate character. He seemed uninterested in her, always talking to her with few words, mostly giving her orders, such as “water” or “towel”. 

“Is Kaiser giving you a hard time?” Noa asked her. 

He took a seat next to her on the pitch, his eyes wandered towards the ongoing match between the rest of the players. Noa had noticed from the beginning that Kaiser wasn’t particularly polite towards her, as if he didn’t want Y/N anywhere near him for some unknown reason. He is well-aware of his nature and so he thought that in time he’d mellow down. But that didn’t seem to be the case. 

“It appears that we’re of different mindsets, that’s all,” Y/N answered, laughing nervously. 

“Would you like me to talk to him?”

“No, it’s fine. Besides, I don’t think he’ll listen to you, at least not on this one,” she replied, biting her bottom lip. “Don’t worry, I will not let my personal feelings interfere with my work.”

Noa sighed, then stood up and she did the same.

The training was reaching its end. Mere seconds before the match was over, Kaiser scored a goal, leading his team to the win. Apparently, the players had made a bet between them and the losing team was going to buy dinner. The winners rushed to the showers happily, while the frustrated losers dragged themselves in. 

“I’ll see you all tomorrow then.” Y/N waved at them. 

“Won’t you come with us?” Erik asked. “Or do you have plans for tonight?”

“I don’t, but would it really be alright if I tagged along?”

“Of course!” Benedict smiled. 

Y/N didn’t have time to raise any possible objections, as Benedict softly pushed her out of the door. The other players followed behind them.

Kaiser, however, paused for a minute, an irritated expression painting his face. Ultimately, he regretted going with them, feeling agitated as he was made to sit next to that stupid woman. He didn’t say much, sitting silently next to her, mostly apathetic, nibbling on his food, looking forward to this farce’s finale.

The others seemed quite interested in Y/N, as they willingly brought her with them and included her in their conversations. 

“So, Y/N, do you have a partner at the moment?” Birkenstock inquired, taking a sip of his drink. 

Suddenly, all eyes were on her, eagerly awaiting for an answer. Kaiser sneakily looked at her from the corner of his narrowed eyes, surprisingly interested as well. For the first time that night, he seemed curious about what she had to say, contrary to how he would roll his eyes indifferently every time he heard her cursed voice. 

“I don’t.” 

“Eh?!” the players exclaimed in shock. 

“Quiet down, you’re bothering the other customers,” Noa scolded them. 

“Is it really that big of a surprise?” she asked. 

“It’s just… Unexpected?” Theo explained. 

“What’s so unexpected about it?” Kaiser questioned, leaning on his hand, elbow on the table, his eyes locking with hers. “Not everyone likes the commitment that comes with a relationship. Some prefer to fool around instead.” 

“You sound like you’d know all about it,” Y/N snarked. 

“I do,” he shamelessly agreed. “It’s quite fun, you know. One moment you just need someone to help you relieve the stress of a long day and the next thing you know is that you have someone in your arms to fuck till you’re satisfied.”

He noticed her gaze narrowing, agitated at his words. And Kaiser loved that gaze more than any other expression he had managed to draw out of her during these past few months. “And you know what the best part is? More often than not, all they need is a little attention from you and they’re practically yours to do as you please.” 

She tried, she really did try her best. She knew he was provoking her on purpose, that he only wanted to irritate her for his own amusement. But Y/N couldn’t stop herself from pouring his drink on him, bathing him slowly, as she looked down on him.

His eyes burnt with fierce fury, looking at her in a threatening manner. Everyone on the table, even in the nearby ones, was frozen, watching this scene unfold. Leaving the empty now glass on the table, she picked up her stuff and left without a word. 

“What the fuck is wrong with her?” Ness cursed at the audacity of that woman, who had dared humiliate the emperor in public. 

“We’ll talk about this later,” Noa warned Kaiser, before rushing after her. 

Y/N was standing outside the restaurant, ready to call for a taxi, when she noticed him coming out. 

“I’m sorry. I screwed up. I know I promised that—”

“Don’t think about that,” he interrupted her. “Are you going home?”

“Yeah, I was going to get a taxi.” 

“Come, I’ll give you a ride. It’s not safe taking a taxi this late on your own.” 

“Thank you.” 

The ride was dipped in silence. Noa was focused on the road, while Y/N had her eyes stuck outside the window. She didn’t know what to say, how to excuse her inexcusable behaviour. And Noa didn’t ask her about it; instead he offered to take her home.

With everything that Kaiser had said back there, she wouldn’t find it surprising if they had all realised the reason behind their constant cold attitude towards each other. She felt stupid for giving in to his provocations and the only thing on her mind was the next day. 

Kaiser walked into his house, dumping the training bag in the living room and making a beeline to the bathroom. He discarded the soaked clothes and looked at himself in the mirror. He hadn’t calmed down at all, still enraged from what happened earlier. Diving into the bathtub, he let the warm water engulf him and relax his exhausted muscles. In his mind, that haughty look in her eyes kept torturing him. He had to do something to put her in her place for that. 

As he walked out of the bathroom, while drying his hair, he heard his phone ringing. He went to check who was calling, only for him to throw it back on the couch, ignoring Noa’s call. Kaiser went to his room and lay on his back on the bed, looking at the ceiling. He was restless and his blood burnt hot like lava. Cursing at himself, he stood up and went through his wardrobe searching for a pair of fresh clothes to wear. 

He could hardly recognise himself. He was acting irrationally. He realised that. And yet there was nothing he could do about it. Kaiser reached her front door and rang the doorbell, impatiently waiting for her to answer. Don’t tell me she’s sleeping, he grimaced. The door opened the next minute. The shocked taken aback look in her eyes fed his bruised ego, as he greeted her smirking. 

“What do you want?” Y/N sternly asked, hiding half her body behind the door. 

“You had some nerve back there, humiliating me like that in front of everyone.” 

“You deserved it.” 

“Is that what you think?”

“Are you here to scold me, because your ego took a hit?”

“I’m here to return the favour.” 

“By vexing me?”

“Correct,” he replied, leaning his face dangerously closer to hers. 

They wanted to hit each other, crash each other’s skulls, fucking kill one another. And yet, those cursed mad gleaming locked gazes of theirs drove them insane. Kaiser couldn’t stop himself as his lips pecked hers, before pulling back, their eyes locking instantly. Y/N came out from behind the door, as she initiated another kiss, this time more intense, more cynical, more aggressive. His arms wrapped around her, him chuckling at her wince as he bit her lower lip, whilst walking into her house, shutting the door behind him. 

“If you don’t push me away now, I’m not going to stop,” Kaiser threatened. “And this time, I won’t be as gentle as last time.”

He was waiting for her response, his lips inches away from hers, curved into a smirk. She kissed him and she hated it; she hated that she wanted him. She was just proving to him that his scornful words were true. And she hated it. Without realising, she was biting down on his lower lip so hard that he had to practically grab her hair and yank her head back. She was panting hard with a satisfied smile on her lips, noticing blood oozing from his lip. 

Kaiser had an enraged expression on his face, behind which his fervour struggled to stay under control. He attacked her neck, leaving bloody bite marks all over, delighted to listen to her whimpers. Y/N managed to push him towards the direction of her bedroom, him harshly throwing her on her bed. He removed his shirt, throwing it on the floor, then hovered above her, his tattooed hand wrapping tightly around her throat, choking her, as he kissed her lips, forcing his tongue in her mouth. 

He tore her clothes apart, slapping her tits, before biting onto one of her nipples, while pinching hard the other. She grabbed a handful of his hair, pulling it roughly, as she held onto his arm, digging her nails on his flesh, scratching him. He thrusted two of his fingers in her drenched cunt, making her arch her back. Her hand grasped his clothed cock, quickly setting it free. She squeezed him painfully in her grip, earning a few groans from him, as she kept stroking him. 

Neither let the other cum, leaving each other frustrated from their pent-up releases. Wearing a condom, he violently penetrated her wet folds, drawing one whiny moan from her. He slammed his hips on hers forcefully and aggressively, taking pleasure in how her face contorted from the painful stretch. She grasped his neck and forced his lips on hers, biting down on his wound, tasting his blood. She then moved to his shoulder, sucking on his skin and leaving bite marks, all while she clawed on his back. 

And when he had enough of that, he manhandled her onto her stomach, pulling her ass up in the air and thrusting himself right back in. His hands were on her waist, holding tightly onto it, slamming her body on his. She was holding tightly onto the bed sheets, her face buried into her pillow to prevent him from seeing her tears. He would slap her ass from time to time and sadistically feast on her muffled whimpers and moans. And when he felt her close to release, he would abruptly decrease the speed of his thrusts, only to vex her even more, even if it meant torturing himself at the same time. 

When everything was over, Kaiser dressed up and left, without so much as taking a peak of her. Leaning back on his seat behind the steering wheel, he cursed at the throbbing pain of her scratches on his back, before driving away. Y/N was just lying there, her heart beating like crazy in her chest. She was drained of energy and without realising it she drifted to sleep with puffy eyes and his marks all over her body, as if a curse mark. 

The next morning, neither Kaiser nor Y/N talked about what had occurred the previous night. They spent their day each minding their business and not interfering with one another.

A few weeks passed since then and the situation hadn’t improved. During training sessions, they continued giving each other the cold treatment, although at a somewhat milder level than before. They usually avoided interacting with one another. It was awkward to say the least.

The rest of the players refrained from bringing up what had happened at the restaurant, but that didn’t make it any less unbearable of a tense atmosphere. Listening to her, Noa didn’t try talking to Kaiser about the situation, he did, however, advised him to keep his head in the game, as the team was currently preparing for an upcoming match. 

“Good morning, everyone!” Y/N greeted them, coming into the field. 

Kaiser only looked at her for mere seconds, but that was enough for him to notice her slightly red, swollen eyes. His eyes narrowed in suspicion, pondering over the reason for her crying. However, that was only for a minute. It had nothing to do with him, so there was no reason for him to mull over it. And yet, he couldn’t help but sneak glances at her all day, especially during break time. Y/N seemed fine while handing over water bottles to the players, but when she was left with nothing to do, her gaze wandered off somewhere, a hint of sadness washing over her face. 

Kaiser thought that he was the last one in the building, apart from the cleaning staff. He was surprised to hear her voice talking on the phone, as he passed by the staff’s locker room, heading to the players’ to change and call it a night. Y/N sounded quite upset, but he couldn’t make up what she was saying, as she spoke in a low voice. Hanging up, Y/N leant against the lockers, clenching her heart on her chest.

Picking up her stuff, she walked out and was shocked to stumble upon Kaiser, who was leaning against the wall outside, his arms folded to his chest. She didn’t say anything, simply turned around and started walking away. His eyes were stuck on her form until she disappeared from his sight of vision. 

The following day, though, Y/N went back to her usual self, as if nothing had happened. Kaiser cursed at himself for that slight moment she had managed to occupy his mind. The irritation at his own self was evident during practice, as his shoots appeared particularly violent, even for him. With their upcoming match right around the corner, the rest of the team regarded that as just the emperor getting fired up and nothing more, throwing themselves in practice and matching his energy. 

“Watch out!” 

Y/N didn’t quite realise what happened. Opening her eyes, she found herself lying on the grass with Kaiser hovering on top of her. As Ness sent a killer pass over to the forward from the defence line, the pass was slightly off, going out of the side lines and was about to crush on Y/N who was passing by, not quite having noticed it. Kaiser noticed the ball’s trajectory before anyone else and pushed her out of the way, resulting in their current position.

It was only for mere seconds, before the rest of the team circled them. Their eyes locked for the first time in days. Y/N could only look at him panting hard from the training. Kaiser couldn’t help but lose himself in her eyes, being reminded of that very first night they met. 

“Are you two okay?” Noa asked, concerned. 

“Yeah,” Kaiser replied, pushing himself off the field. “Let’s continue.” 

The players looked over at Y/N, who smiley reassured them that she was alright. Ness apologised with a remorseful smile, before heading back. Noa offered her his hand, helping her back on her feet. He checked just in case that she wasn’t hurt by the fall, sighing in relief. The game proceeded without any other problems after that. 

“Ness,” Kaiser called for him, as they were changing clothes. 

“Hmm?” he responded, turning over to him, while closing his locker. 

The two were currently the only ones in the locker room. 

“What is it?” Ness asked him, tilting his head to the side. 

It had been stuck in his mind for a while now, eating him away. It was no state secret that Ness was obsessively fond of him within the team. The midfielder had engaged in multiple arguments with the other players solely for the smallest things concerning him. Kaiser didn’t usually mind. From his perspective, Ness was a loyal pawn who would go to any lengths to support his emperor’s goals. And he quite liked that. 

“That pass earlier, it was meant to land on her, wasn’t it?” he questioned, looking him dead in the eyes. 

“It was an accident.” 

“Don’t fuck with me, Ness!” Kaiser yelled, slamming him against the locker. “Listen carefully. Don’t ever do something like that again. Your sole purpose is to help me score goals,” he spat, venom slipping off his tongue. “Nothing more, nothing less.”

Kaiser let go of him and picked up his training bag, heading towards the exit. 

“She’s messing with you!” Ness tried to excuse himself. “And she still hasn’t apologised for the way she treated you that night. Ever since, she scorns you and—”

“Enough!” he cut him off. “Leave her be, Ness. I won’t be asking again.” 

Looking at Kaiser leaving without so much as sparing a look at him, Ness clenched his hands in fists, rage starting building up deep within him. And despite all the horrendous thoughts that flooded his mind, he wasn’t going to do anything. He was hurt, feeling as if he had disappointed Kaiser — and he had. Even if he didn’t agree with him, he was still willing to follow his order, from fear of being discarded. Not to mention that if that woman’s behaviour didn’t affect Kaiser, Ness might as well follow his lead and not let her get on his nerves either. 

Kaiser was heading to his car, when he heard some people arguing a few metres away from him. He paid them no mind and continued on his way.

“I said let go! You’re hurting me!” he heard a female voice screaming.

Turning around, his body reacted before his brain could process the situation. Forcefully separating the two, he pushed the man away, as he placed Y/N behind him. 

“She said stop, arsehole! Didn’t you hear her?”

The man clicked his tongue in annoyance and walked away without a word. Kaiser turned towards Y/N, his eyes widening in shock, seeing her terrified like that, her body trembling uncontrollably and tears falling from her eyes. 

“Hey, look at me,” he spoke softly. “You’re safe now, that bastard is gone. It’s alright now.” 

“K-Kaiser?”

“Yeah, it’s me. It’s okay now.” He gently caressed her cheek. “Do you know who that was?”

“N-No…” 

“Did he do anything to you?”

“He grabbed my arm… And tried to take me away…” 

“Alright.” Picking up her bag that had fallen to her feet, he took her hand in his and looked at her. “Come, I’ll give you a ride.”

Y/N nodded and followed him to his car. The time they spent in the car was peaceful, each of them immersed in their own thoughts. She would occasionally steal a few glances of Kaiser whilst he was driving, still quite shocked that he of all people had bothered to help her. As the car came to a stop outside her house, he turned towards her, their gazes locking. 

“Thank you for helping me.” 

“Mmm…” he nodded. 

“Goodnight.”

“Mmm…” 

She watched him driving away and disappearing from her view, then dragged herself inside her house. Closing the door, she leant against it, letting herself slip down on the floor. Pulling up her sleeves, she looked at the bruised handprints of that man, her eyes tearing up. Y/N took a long bath, scrubbing as best as she could the marks, wanting to erase their existence from her body. Exhausted, she fell asleep, occasionally waking up through the night from dark memories buried deep within her. 

The following day of the incident with the creepy man, Kaiser had checked up on Y/N, asking if she were okay. She wasn’t, her puffy eyes told him everything he needed to know, but he still went along with her obvious lie of everything being fine.

Subtle changes had occurred in their relationship, as they were now less cold towards each other. Interactions were kept to a minimum, yet the atmosphere around them was more relaxed than ever before.

The players were glad by this sudden turn of events, thanking whatever happened to make them calmer. Ness was still looking down on Y/N from time to time, not quite understanding Kaiser’s thinking, however he didn’t pull any similar stunt again. 

And at last, the match was about to happen. The day before, the players headed home immediately after morning practice was over to prepare themselves for tomorrow night’s game.

Kaiser was taking a bath, relaxing both his body and mind, while visualising the outcome of the game. When he was done, he wore his bathrobe and sat on his bed, scrolling through the contacts on his phone. Nobody really piqued his interest.

Except for her.

Without realising, he was already calling her number. It didn’t take her long to reply. She sounded surprised to receive a call for him, late in the evening. 

“What do you want, Kaiser?”

“Come to my house.” 

“Why?”

“I need your help, Ms. Assistant Manager,” he said in a mischievous tone.  

Y/N wasn’t sure why she obliged to his request — more like his order. As the doors of the lift opened, she sighed before stepping out and ringing his doorbell. Kaiser opened the door for her, greeting her inside with one of his usual service smiles. 

“So, what do you want?”

“You.” 

“W-What do you mean?” she asked him, flustered by his stern reply. 

“I mean…” Kaiser wrapped his arm around her, his face leant to her ear, as he whispered, “You.” He pulled back, eyes looking deep in hers, as he caressed her cheek. “To be more precise, I want to have sex with you. It’s more like a charm, it helps me relax the day before a game,” he explained. “Of course, you can refuse. I won’t force you to stay. But if you do decide to stay, I must warn you that we’ll be at it for a while.” 

Kaiser observed her, deep in thought as she was. Her eyes locked with his, her body was set aflame by his soft grip on it. She wished to refuse and walk away. And yet, for some reason, she was drawn to him. It was like that night they met at the club. There was something in him that held a tight grasp on her, like a chain around her neck, like the thorny briars of his tattoo had engulfed her body.

“Alright…” she whispered to his lips, before giving in to her desires. Kaiser smirked, pleased that she had obliged. 

They shared slow-paced, open mouthed kisses, feeling their bodies melt under one another’s touch. He lifted her up in his arms, wrapping her legs around his torso, as he relocated them to his bedroom. He threw her on the bed and hovered above her, attacking her lips, as he started undressing her. He held her as a delicate doll, yet he marked her as a whore. His cock hardened by those little whimpers of hers that escaped her lips every time he bit her.

Her body jolted at the fat stride he licked on her drenched folds. His lips sucked her clit, whilst he simultaneously thrusted two fingers in her wet cunt, curling them up, only to feast his eyes in her head falling back on the pillow, her back arching to his touch, her moans blessing his ears, as her body trembled, reaching her release. 

She pulled his hair, making him hiss, as she brought him to her, then kissed his lips. She gasped, as his tattooed hand choked her throat, him finding the chance to bite her bottom lip. He picked her up, as he sat on the edge of the bed, placing her down in-between his spread legs. Untying his robe, she stroked his cock, as she worshipped it with her lips. His breath hitched, letting out a breathless moan, grabbing a handful of her hair, whilst feeling her lips sending waves of pleasure throughout his body, ultimately leading to his climax. 

He grabbed her chin, bringing her to him and crushing his lips on hers, as she rolled down a condom on his cock. She slowly went down, feeling him stretching her oh so perfectly as ever. She was holding onto his shoulders, as she bounced on his cock, clenching around him, making him lose his grip on reality. His tattooed hand choked her neck, as he sucked on the soft skin of her breasts, his other hand slamming her hips down on his. He slapped her ass, smirking at how she threw her head back, moaning his name in pleasure. 

Lying her down on her stomach, he ridded himself of his robe, then slightly lifted her hips, as he positioned himself in-between her spread legs, thrusting hard and deep inside her cunt, forcing the air out of her lungs.

“Kaiser… More… Please…” she begged him.

He leant down, kissing her shoulder, his tattooed hand wrapping around her neck, turning her face towards his. His thrusts were violent and forceful, penetrating her and hitting all the perfect spots, making her mind go blank. 

“Is this what you want? For me to treat you like a whore?” he mocked her, voice dripping with menace. “Look at you, creaming on my cock, moaning my name.” He thrusted with each point he made. “I bet that’s what you have been dreaming since the last time I fucked you, hmm?” he taunted, kissing some of her tears. 

She couldn’t answer him, as she held tightly onto the bed sheets, feeling herself cum all over his cock. He couldn’t help but get riled up, thrusting aggressively in her, barely holding himself back from his own orgasm. He fucked her through her orgasm, then rolled her on her back, caressing her tear-stained cheek, whispering “Beautiful…” He ravaged her poor little cunt time after time, until he was satisfied. 

Waking up in the morning, a soft smile was curved on his lips, looking at her sleeping peacefully in his embrace, her head on top of his chest. Kaiser took a moment to take in her relaxed features as she was asleep, running his fingers through her hair. Kissing her forehead, he silently left the bed and went on with his morning routine of conversing with himself naked before his mirror, then he wore some clothes, before grabbing his phone to go for a light jog. When he returned, he found Y/N still sleeping. Kaiser had a shower, before settling himself next to her, kissing her bare neck and shoulder, urging her to wake up. 

“You sure like to sleep a lot, don’t you?”

“I-I was just exhausted, that’s all.” 

“Mmm…” he murmured, kissing her forehead. 

“Whose fault do you think that is?” she questioned, hitting his shoulder. 

Kaiser laughed, as he handed her over her clothes.

Y/N rolled her eyes, dressed up, then stood up to get to the kitchen, since her stomach was rumbling in complaint. Her legs hurt quite a bit from last night’s vigorous events, resulting in her partially losing her balance, before he picked her up in his arms and moved the two of them to the kitchen.

They had breakfast in peace, talking about minor stuff, acting like lovers. It feels nice, they both thought, but refrained from sharing with one another. If she were honest, this was the first time in days that Y/N had felt this serene. 

“If we win the match, will you spend the night with me again?” Kaiser asked, wrapping his arms around her body, pulling her closer. 

“Only if you win,” Y/N promised. 

He kissed her lips for good luck and ran after the other players on the field.

The match was intense, as both teams were strong. Currently, the score was 2 - 2, only a few seconds remained till the end of the game. All the spectators were sitting on the edge of their seats, anxiously watching the outcome.

Her eyes were stuck on him, following him as he evaded the strong defence line of his opponents. Two of the enemy defenders ganged up on him in an attempt to intercept his goal. Kaiser avoided them and shot the ball above his head, resulting in Bastard München’s win. 

And as she had promised, she let him have his reward for his win. It was maddening. The way he touched her, setting her body aflame, had her standing on the edge of insanity; one step and she was gone. He devoured her like a hungry beast, taking pleasure in breaking her into million pieces like a porcelain doll, only to put all her pieces back together and ruin her all over again and again. He listened to every moan of his name coming out of her parted lips, looked into those teary eyes and oh fuck felt her velvet walls tightening around him, driving him to his orgasm. 

“Are you writing again?” Kaiser asked, leaning down to kiss her neck. 

“Yeah,” Y/N responded, smashing the keyboard, as she was in her writer’s flow. “Hey!” she yelled, as he picked her up. 

He laughed, sitting down on the chair and placing her on his lap, wrapping his arms around her. “Hmm, let me see. I’m really curious about what happens next.” Kaiser was intrigued to read the text on the laptop’s screen. He had accidentally stumbled upon her writing her novel and read it at first out of curiosity. The way she wrote captivated him, leaving him hungry for more. That’s how they spent most of their days for the next two months. 

“Y/N’s late,” Benedict pointed. “Do you think something happened to her?”

“Kaiser, did she tell you anything about it?” Theo asked him. 

“No,” he replied.

Recalling the previous night, Kaiser couldn’t remember her telling him anything about not coming to work today. They spent their time tangled up in-between her bed sheets, until he got called and had to leave. He texted her late at night and she replied to him, yet she still didn’t mention anything. 

“Y/N won’t be coming to work for a while,” Noa, who had just entered the training field, informed them. “The manager just informed me.” 

Everyone was confused at this sudden announcement, most of all Kaiser. He called her a couple times during breaks, but Y/N never picked up or called him back. He was getting worried about her disappearance. He even stopped by her house on his way back to his, but she wasn’t there. 

Kaiser: Just tell me you’re okay, that’s all I’m asking.

His face lit up when Kaiser noticed her text next morning.

Y/N: I’m fine. I have a few things to take care of and I’ll be right back.

He sighed relieved and went about his day, worrying less now that he knew she was alright. 

Nonetheless, Y/N remained out of sight for at least a month. She didn’t contact him after that one text message and no matter what time he passed by, she was never at her house. Kaiser thought that he might have done something that displeased her. But then again, she would have confronted him already or they would have gone back to their hostile days. This time, she was even taking time off work as well, which complicated things. 

Kaiser was near her house, taking some strolls around in hopes of bumping into her. Spotting her amidst the chaos of people, he went after her, calling her name. Seeing him running towards her, Y/N dropped the bags from the supermarket and ran away as fast as she could, hoping that he didn’t manage to catch up to her.

Kaiser was left looking at her running off, then averted his gaze towards the bags on the ground. It was only for a split second, but he swore she was terrified to see him there. Picking up the bags, he took them to her doorstep and rang the bell. 

“If you don’t want to see me, just fucking say it and I’ll leave you alone!” he cursed. 

From inside the house, Y/N heard his footsteps getting further and further away, tears running down her eyes, muffled cries escaping her lips. The man holding her against the door started laughing like a maniac, her body trembled at its horrifying sound. His body pressured hers against the door, disgusting her, making her feel sick. He kissed her neck, taking pleasure in how she squirmed to his touch. 

“He’s loyal, I’ll give you that.” He laughed. “Good job coming back to me. You could have run with him, but you didn’t. I’m really proud of you.” He kissed her cheek. 

“M-Mark, can you handle lunch today?” she asked him. “I want to rest a little.” 

“Yes, everything for you, my dear. Do you need me to bring you anything?”

“No, I’m fine, thanks.” 

Shutting the door of her bedroom, she lay on her bed, burying her head on the pillow and crying. Mark Veidt is her ex-boyfriend, with whom she broke up about a year ago. Mark was obsessed with her, to the point he needed to control every aspect of her everyday life. He separated her from her loved ones, locking her up in his house and keeping her to himself, as nobody else was “worthy” of being in her presence. Y/N managed to take his phone from him, as he had taken hers away, immediately calling the police who arrived at the scene of Mark beating her up and took him away. She never saw him again. 

Everything changed the night he was lying in wait for her to come out of the team’s training building. He attacked her, trying to take her by force with him, but Kaiser interfered. He didn’t know it, but that was the second time he had saved her from him, the first being the night they met.

Mark stayed quiet for a while, stalking her and collecting information on her new lover. He was inside her house, going through her worn clothes, engulfing himself in her scent that he had so dearly missed. Hearing the front door opening and people chatting, Mark hid himself inside her wardrobe, leaving it slightly open to peek outside. 

“K-Kaiser, wait—” 

“No, can’t do.” He crushed his lips on hers, his hands roaming her body. “I need you.” 

Kaiser threw her on the bed, hovering above her. Her moans filled his ears, as Mark watched her getting railed by another man. He couldn’t comprehend it. That filthy man was defiling her body, treating her as a mere fuck toy, making her cry and scream.

And yet she was looking at him with lustful eyes, begging him for more of his cruelty. This was a side of hers that he had never seen before. When Y/N was in his arms, he treated her body with utmost respect, for she was his goddess whom he worshipped wholeheartedly. Even so, she had never looked at him the way she looked at that man. 

As he was cutting vegetables for the salad, Mark accidentally cut his finger. He couldn’t believe that the man he loathed would go as far as to come all the way to her house. He had passed quite a few times, but Mark thought that he was simply pissed that his little bitch was ignoring him. He would get over it; or that’s what he wanted to believe. After today he was sure that man would never approach his beloved again.

He and Y/N had lunch together, then put on a movie to watch, while cuddling on the couch. She was trembling in his embrace and Mark thought that it was because of the horror movie he had picked. He hadn’t realised that he was the real reason she was feeling scared. 

From that day, Kaiser didn’t try to reach out to her again. He was angry, angry at her, angry at himself for letting her toy with him. He loathed those feelings he had for her from the beginning. The only reason he gave in was to stop the bleeding in his heart. He never imagined falling this hard, but he had.

And now that she was constantly on his mind, he was in a foul mood almost all the time. Whenever the rest of his teammates asked him about her, he would reply with “don’t know, don’t care” and immediately throw himself at practice. He always kept his mind occupied so as not to think of her. 

“I didn’t know where else to go…” 

Kaiser tried to turn her down, but that heartbreaking state she was in didn’t allow him. Grabbing her arm, he pulled her inside his house harshly. Throwing her on the floor, he looked down at her, his gaze burning with fierce fury. The woman before him was the one who had arbitrarily stolen his heart and broke it one day for a reason unknown to him. And yet that heart of his bled, seeing her breaking down in front of him. But he knew he had to stand strong and not let her affect him. 

“If you came here to cry, do me a favour and leave,” he spat venomously. “I don’t have time for your bullshit anymore.” 

“I know…” she cried. “I’m sorry… I’m sorry, Kaiser…”

He clicked his tongue, irritated by her cries and slammed her on the wall. His eyes shot daggers at her, daggers dipped in poison, hoping to kill her and with her have his feelings die as well. 

“Haven’t you had enough fun toying with me? What else do you need?” he yelled, his hold on her shoulders tightening. 

A sorrowful cry escaped her lips, as Y/N slipped through his hands down to the floor. She was trembling, she was terrified. Kaiser had never seen her like that. No, he had, that one time. Kneeling before her, he noticed a bruise faintly popping out of her shirt. Taking her shirt off, his eyes widened, looking at the numerous bruises on her body. 

“Who did this to you?” Kaiser asked, barely able to keep his rage in check. 

Y/N explained to him what had happened and he listened to her words carefully, his face derived from all emotions. He couldn’t possibly control the situation, but he wished he could. Her crying her heart out in his chest broke him. He kissed her lips softly, tasting her salty tears and pain.

She begged him to make her forget, if only for a minute and he obliged to her request without a second thought. He touched her body as lightly as a feather, for fear that he might hurt her more. Two days; Kaiser spent the next two days indulging in her every desire, no matter how small or stupid it might have been. 

“Are you sure you want to come as well?” Kaiser asked her, his hand giving a small squeeze to her thigh. 

“Yeah… It’s my problem to begin with.” 

“Stay next to me at all times.” 

The two exited his car and walked to the door of her house. Y/N took a deep breath before opening the door and walking inside. Mark practically ran to the front door from her bedroom, tears running down his cheeks. His face lit up when he saw her, but only for a moment, as he became alert due to Kaiser’s presence that separated the two. 

“If you wanted to go see him, you didn’t have to run away. You could have simply asked.”

“Would you have let me go if I had?”

“No,” Mark replied, his hands turning into fists. “I’ve seen how he treats you. He’s a beast! He doesn’t care about you! He treats you like a common slut! But you’re not. You’re a goddess! The most beautiful goddess that has descended on earth!” 

“Mark, leave.” 

“Do you really wish to stay with him instead of me? Why? What does he have that I don’t?” he yelled frustrated.

“He makes me feel safe. And he never hit me or did anything that I didn’t want.” 

“Can’t you see that he’s using you?” Mark desperately yelled. “He wants to separate us!” 

“Shut up, already!” Y/N yelled. “He has nothing to do with it. I broke up with you a year ago, because of how you treated me. You cannot make me happy. You cannot love me.” 

“Lies! I—”

The door of her house burst open and policemen rushed inside. They immobilised Mark and handcuffed him, as he tried to break free, cursing at them, cursing at the man who stole his lover, cursing at his “goddess”. Kaiser approached him and looked down on him with his cold eyes, watching him gritting his teeth at him, trying in vain to release himself from the handcuffs and attack him. Who’s the real beast between us? he wondered. 

“She spent the past two days at my house. It should be obvious why,” Kaiser taunted him. 

The policemen took Mark away, as he threw insults at Kaiser, who went by Y/N’s side, wrapping his arm around her, kissing the top of her head. The nightmare was finally over. She had never thought that she’d ever be free of him. She didn’t even believe that she’d be able to love anyone again. But she was glad that Kaiser proved her wrong.

© strawchocoberry — do not copy, repost, translate or reuse my work

[hier--soir]

a lover's pinch | eight

joel miller x f!reader

pairing: professor!joel miller x f!reader rating: explicit, 18+ mdni summary: the one where they get caught. warnings/tags: au, university professor joel, age gap [20 something years diff], ethically dubious relationship due to inherent power imbalance, domestic bliss, gratuitous descriptions of joel reading, joni mitchell, explicit unprotected piv sex, delayed gratification, dirty talk, finger sucking, biting, academic praise kink, cream pie, who's in the pic on joel's desk??, angst, confrontation, an orpheus and eurydice metaphor uh oh, those blue panties from 3 come back to haunt us. word count: 6.9k nice series masterlist | main masterlist chapter moodboard a/n: i need someone to make me write [or not write] the way j miller phd does in this... also sorry and i hope you like it and sorry again follow @hier--soirupdates if you'd like to be notified when i share my writing this is part eight of ALP. you can read the previous parts here: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven.

Winter descends over Maine not with a bang, but with a whimper.  

The days and weeks fold together in a blurring mess of sleep ins and papers and coffees, until suddenly a month has passed, and you hardly noticed it slipping through your fingers.

You spend less time at home, and more tucked on one side of Joel’s couch, your feet in his lap as he lounges down the other end. You dip pale toast in runny yolks at the table, listening to him on the phone to Sarah in the other room. Hear him say I’m good, baby girl… I’m really good when she asks how he is.

You ride shotgun in the truck between his place and the university, slipping out the passenger door a little early every time. Walk the final stretch lest someone notice his glasses, your hair through the windscreen.

On campus you watch him up there on his stage, a burn in your chest, and see how he seeks you out in the after. How he props you above him and returns your gaze finally. Curls his body around yours and repents for every time he had to look away.

It's warm and it’s kind and it’s trading books with scribbled notes in the margins.

It’s rain smacking against the windows as you read, his scruffy chin nesting in the slope where your neck meets your shoulder, two sets of eyes staring at the same words.

It’s nodding off in his bed where the sheets have started to smell like your perfume, eyelids heavy as you wait for him to get home. It’s wearing only his clothes and being woken up by his face between your thighs, pupils blown and lips slick.  

It’s finding each other at the end of a long day and hearing him say, I thought about you all afternoon.

And this feeling of familiarity writhes between the slats of your ribs. A comfortable, quiet fondness that you see reflected in his eyes when he looks at you; that you hear when that tender mouth forms your name.

You gorge yourselves on it. Put lips to the crooks and thorns in each other’s bodies and suckle on that fondness, swallow, swallow, and watch the well never run dry.

The bleed is endless. Beneath the stain of time it floods and flurries, melting the two of you together until you start to feel certain it could never end.

Until, of course and at last, it does.

Sunday.

It’s late, you think. Somewhere in the mess where time blurs between sunset and midnight, Winter stealing hours that feel like minutes.

The curtains in his living room are drawn, low yellow light warming the room from a tall lamp in the corner. Blue spins in the on the record player, a gentle sway of sound that fills the room.

I like listening to Joni on Sundays, he’d confessed in the bathroom, bashful as he rubbed a towel over you, drying the wet ends of your hair and the slick skin of your shoulders.

He reads at the table now, strong chin cupped in his palm as his eyes flit across the pages of a textbook.

Something to do with conservation; a Minoan palace in Knossos, you think. He’d explained it earnestly, but his curls were soft and fluffy from the shower and his glasses were resting on the tip of his nose and so you’d found yourself zoning out, eyes going from round to heart shaped as you nodded along from the couch.

Every few minutes he grips his pen and jots down a note before glancing up to check on you. And whenever this happens you avert your eyes quickly, pretending to be enthralled by the half-finished essay on your screen. You have a feeling he catches you each time, because he keeps laughing softly, tutting under his breath as he goes back to reading, foot never stopping its tap-tap-tap in time with the music. The only time he gets up is to flip the record, and soon those little laughs and huffs start to mix with Joni’s bell-like voice, and the opening lyrics to California swell through the room as you type at a glacial pace.   

She sings, I met a redneck on a Grecian isle, and you glance up again, eyes turning wide and doe-like when you find Joel already watching you. He gave me back my smile, Joni sings. But he kept my camera to sell.

“How’s the writing going?”

“Good.” Liar. “Great, even.” Bad liar.

Joel’s eyes narrow behind his glasses, lips twitching in a clear attempt to smother a laugh, but he just nods, looking back down at his book.

He’s wearing home clothes. That’s what he called them. Home clothes.

When he’d said it, still pulling them on, you’d wanted nothing more than to grip his hands and stop him in his tracks, but you’d sequestered yourself to the other side of the room instead, sorely committed to the study evening he’d suggested. But he’s in soft grey sweatpants and an even softer looking white t-shirt, and every time he sips his coffee he hums happily against the rim of his mug, and his bare foot goes tap-tap-tap and Joni sings Oh, will you take me as I am?, and—

“Come here.”

You blink. His eyebrows raise expectantly, lips split into a broad smile now.

“Unless you’d rather stay over there and keep starin’.”

You reach him as The Last Time I saw Richard, the final track on side two, begins to spin.

Joni sings, all romantics meet the same fate, and Joel’s knees fall apart, thighs splayed so handsomely across his chair, inviting you to take a seat. You ignore the woeful lyrics and focus instead on the knowing smirk on his face, taking a step forward, and another, until you’re stood between his open legs.

He doesn’t touch you. Just smiles, all saccharine and easy, leaning back in his chair.

“Much left to do?” He points at the laptop in your hands.

“Maybe another hundred words,” you grumble and put it down on the table. “Today, at least.”

Joel hums, eyes flicking down. His gaze skirts across the bare skin of your legs, the soft sleep shorts you’re wearing; ones he puts on you himself, and knows you don’t have anything beneath.

“Come here.” He pats his thigh; stops you with a soft tut when you try to straddle him. “Naw, baby, like this.”

Soft hands tilt your hips, turn you until your back is to his chest and he’s drawing you onto his lap.

“Oh.” You smile, leaning your head back onto his shoulder.

Nose turned into the side of his face, you brush a kiss to the edge of his jaw and sigh in relief as he wraps his arms around your middle and squeezes.

The space between his chest and the table is a little tight; small enough that if you were to lean forward a few inches your ribs would knock against the wood.

As if he’s thinking the same thing, Joel leans forward. Presses you against the table, one hand coming up to hold your face. His fingers are soft on your skin, offering small amounts of pressure as he grips your jaw and encourages you to look forward.

“Gonna tell me what’s on your mind?” he asks.

The hairs on the back of your neck stand up a little, skin prickling at the shift in his tone. Still soft, still quiet, yet with something… demanding, shifting just below the surface.

“You,” you say, cringing at the way your voice takes on a higher quality all of a sudden. Steeling yourself, you add, “You’re distracting me.”

“Wasn’t doing anythin’,” he responds simply. “Just sittin’ over here, minding my business while you burn holes in my head.” 

“You know what you’re doing.”

“I cooked dinner.” He squeezes you again. “Fed you. We showered, and now I’m readin’.”

“You were humming.”

Joel kisses the shell of your ear.

“And tapping.”

He flutters his fingers against your hip.

“S’that such a crime?” he murmurs.

“No, but…” You sigh when his tongue snakes out, tracing the soft curve of your earlobe. “But it…”

“But but but,” Joel mocks, and you can feel his sick smirk against your neck, teeth teasing along your carotid now. “But all you can think about is my cock, ain’t that right?”

Your stomach falls away. Everything firm inside you turns to goo as he laughs, knowing he’s right.

“So needy,” he taunts you, holding your hip tighter as his length begins to thicken against your ass. “Had all day to ask for it.”

You don’t respond, tongue tied and more uninterested in your essay than ever.

“Just lookin’ for a distraction now,” he teases lightly. “The more you put it off, the harder it’ll be to get it done, baby.”

“I know.”

“If you know.” He hooks a finger over the waistband of your shorts. “Then finish it.”

“S’not that simple,” you whine, rolling your hips over his lap. A sharp puff of air warms the back of your neck, so you do it again. His hand tightens around your jaw.

“Just a hundred words, right?” he coaxes gruffly. “Come on now, I’ll make it worth your while.”

You feel his thick cock beneath his sweats, stiff and pressing between the crease of your thighs, melting what’s left of your resolve. You want to grind down against it. To pull your soft sleep shorts to the side and let him sink inside with no more pretence. But you put your hands on the desk, eyes on the screen, and Joel slides his warm palms beneath the hem of your t-shirt. Floats them over the curve of your stomach, the soft flesh around your ribs, waking thousands of tiny hairs that cover your skin until his fingers meet your chest, and he cups your breasts.

You shiver, lids growing heavy as he squeezes and tickles at your skin. Your nipples harden to peaks against his rough palms, and he sighs at the feeling, face resting against the back of your neck as he plays.

“Fuck,” you sigh, voice a broken buzz in your throat as he pinches one of your nipples between his thumb and forefinger. “I thought you wanted me to write.”

“I do,” Joel murmurs unconvincingly. “A hundred words, go on.”

Hands like lead on the table, it feels like an impossible task. Even more than it did ten minutes ago. You force yourself to lift your fingers to the keyboard, vision sharpening as you look for where you left off. You try to shut him out, try to ignore the way his tongue warms the skin on your neck, the way the hairs on his thighs tickle against yours, and begin to write.

But he doesn’t make it easy.

The second you finish the first sentence one of his hands drifts down your stomach to cup your pussy over your shorts. You flinch, heart galloping in your chest when he sighs in your ear.

“Joel,” you whimper, pleading already. “I can’t if you…”

“You can,” he soothes. The warmth of his palm is suffocating, so hot against where you’re already wet and wanting. Thick fingers press against the fabric, nudging it between your slick folds until it goes damp. “Just ignore me, baby.”

“Easier said than done,” you reply. You type five more words, chest rattling with heavy breaths as he paws at you, thumbing at your clit through your shorts.

His breath is hot and heavy against your neck and his soft curls tickle your skin as you try to focus.

“Ignore me,” he repeats, and you squeak as he tilts you forward. A rush of breath spills from your mouth, chest flush to the desk, ass suspended above his lap as he shifts behind you. And when he pulls you back down, you sigh pathetically over the fact that he’s pushed his sweats down.

The full weight of his length presses against you, nestled between the rounded flesh of your ass, and you manage to mumble his name.

“Just—” You’re panting now; considering begging. “—I can do this later. I will finish it later, I swear, just—”

Joel nudges your shorts to the side and presses a finger between your folds. A ragged gasp stutters out of you, finger jammed against the keyboard. A steady stream of kkkkkkkkkkkkkkk fills a line of the document as he smears your wetness up to your clit.

“Fuck,” you mumble, hips tilting forward, trying to chase the feeling.

“None of that,” he tuts quickly, other hand slipping down and pinching the skin at the inside of your thigh. You’ve only backspaced half of the k’s when he slips two fingers inside you. “Come on, now.”

Thirty words fly as he crooks his fingers inside you. Slow and gentle, thumb rubbing messy circles against your clit as he works you open.

“That’s it,” he coos, pressing a third finger inside. Your cunt sucks desperately at his fingers, the skin of your face warming as you catch a glimpse of your reflection on the laptop screen. Jaw hanging low, a silent prayer for relief written across the open slant of your mouth. “My smart girl. Knew they didn’t give you that degree for nothin’.”

You gasp and swat at his wrist, but a satisfied little smile cracks your face for a moment when he laughs. Only for it to fall seconds later when he lays a sharp bite to the back of your shoulder. You moan, voice cracking around his name, rutting desperately against his hand.

“You can do it,” he flatters you, sickly sweet and entirely convincing as he strokes at your insides. Curling and stretching until you’re turning to a wet trembling mess in his lap, wobbling through half-assed sentences that you aren’t sure even match up with your essay outline anymore.

“Good,” Joel murmurs. “That’s good.”

“Don’t look,” you slur out, heart pounding at the idea of him reading anything you’ve written in this state. “It’s f-for your class, you can’t look.”

“Not lookin’.” He noses at the back of your ear. Presses an open-mouthed kiss to the hinge of your jaw. “Just lookin’ at you, m’always just lookin’ at you.”

“I’ll finish it.” You switch up your tactic now. Voice low and breathy, the back of your head resting heavy on his shoulder, eyes longing to close. “Tomorrow, I’ll write it—”

“Tomorrow?” His thumb drags harder on your clit.

“Yes,” you gasp, stomach tensing. You feel a bit floaty all of a sudden. Locked out of your own mind, all thoughts spilling from between your thighs as desire grips you, consumes you. “Please, just…”

“What, baby?” he prompts. “Say it.”

“Just let me sit on your cock,” you groan. “Please, I can’t think right now, I’ll finish it, I promise.”

“You fuckin’ promise—Christ,” he grumbles, fingers drifting from your tight clutch. “Just a little more, baby, for me.”

You don’t even really know how it happens after that. Ears roaring, skin tight, everything is a blur as you write and write and write and he presses his leaking tip between your folds works you down onto his length. Hands everywhere, so warm, so rough, holding your thighs, your waist, your breasts, your shorts to the side. Slower when your gasps spin higher, you think, always knowing when to ease up, when the burn gets too much too quick.

Joel grips your thighs, prying them apart until your calves are on the outside of his, and then he’s shifting his legs open wide, giving your own no choice but to follow. You feel the full weight of him in this position. The long, thick stretch of his cock inside you as your legs dangle listlessly over his lap, toes straining and failing to reach the floor. You can do nothing but rest heavily across his thighs, those hands still everywhere all at once, and whine pitifully as your walls spasm and clench around him, coil inside pulling tighter and tighter.

Vision waning, the text on your screen warbles as Joel slips the pad of his finger against your clit and begins to play with it. Soft little rubs that have you going tense and leaning forward on the table, braced on your elbows and grinding down into his lap, desperate for release, for movement, anything. It feels like your brain is splintering into a thousand tiny pieces inside your skull.

“You’re so wet,” Joel rasps, forehead heavy against your shoulder blade as he groans. “Pretty pussy’s drippin’ all over me, honey. You really need it that bad?” 

You say something you think, mouth moving and eyes rolling as his hips shift up in a weak little thrust. Just one.

“Keep goin’.” He sounds pained, half-drunk as the words stumble out of him.

Your mind slips further from your grasp and you’re typing pure gibberish. Slurring messes of letters cloaked in perfect punctuation. Your fingers fly across the keys, painting commas and full stops and semi colons around complete and utter bullshit as your cunt flutters and your belly stirs.

His finger glides and his cock pulses and your vision darkens and you come. Shoulders hunched, table digging into your forearms, you fold forward and cry out as an agonisingly brief orgasm rips through you.

It’s over before it’s even begun, but Joel groans and offers a shallow thrust, your cry turning to a gasp as he grips your thigh for dear life.

“Oh good girl,” he murmurs, fingers slowing against your nerves, not wanting to overwhelm. “Fuckin’ squeezing me so tight, baby.”

“Joel.” There are tears in your eyes now. Liquid frustration that pools against your waterline and threatens to spill when he still doesn’t fuck you how you need him to.

“How much left?” he asks roughly, rocking his hips against yours in a steady pace now. Gentle, rolling movements that snag on the heels of your orgasm and hold it close.

“Huh?”  

“How many words?”

“I don’t…” Your eyelids flutter. “I don’t know.”

“Shit, sweetheart,” he laughs a little then, rueful but not unkind. “That’s gonna be hell to edit.”

With a furious groan you slam the laptop closed, the sharp smack of metal on metal filling your ears as he grips your hips and really starts to fuck you.

It’s not fast though, not rough. Just deep, lingering strokes that grind against the end of you and nudge you stumbling toward the edge. He pinches your clit between the tips of his middle and ring fingers, rubbing slow drags up and down against the hood like that. Moaning and sweating, you slip your hand over his. Press lower and let your fingers glide around his girth, thick and vascular between your thighs, hot skin wetter every time he pulls out of you.

“Feel that?” Joel pants, teeth nipping at the top of your spine. “You’re creamin’ for me, baby. Fuck, I—I need to taste it.”

“Shit—oh god.”

He grips your wrist and drags it up, chin harsh against your shoulder as he sucks your fingers into his mouth.

The groan he lets out is filthy as his hot tongue snakes out to lick the webbing between your fingers, and you tip your head to watch his eyes roll back. His thighs tremble beneath you, but you can’t be sure it’s not just the vibrations of your own body tricking you.

But no, it’s him. His hips stutter against yours, deep plunges stilting into shallow movements, and he stalls deep inside your cunt for a second on the end of every thrust, as if his brain is short-circuiting.

You hook your fingers in his mouth, the tips digging into the gums behind his teeth, and tug him back to reality. He nips at your fingers and moans, hand falling heavy between your thighs again. And he doesn’t stop now; keeps pushing and pinching and fucking and grinding until your pussy is pulling tight and slick around his length and your fingers are fanned loose and shaky across his face, and you can hardly breathe except to say Joel or please or oh my god.

“Can feel it,” he grunts breathlessly, skin smacking against yours in a sharp staccato beat. “Deep breath, baby, c’mon, let me have it.”

“Your teeth,” you gasp feverishly. “Bite me again.” 

“Fuck,” he snarls and then he’s grating the hard line of his incisors along your shoulder.

The sweet pinch of his canines digging into your back sets your cunt aflutter around him, mouth hung open in silent ecstasy as he fucks you full of his seed and you suck it in deep, tight with longing, still panting and high when it begins to drip from where you’re connected, spooling around his cock and smearing between your thighs and his.

His chest heaves against your back. Chest hair damp wet sweat, dripping through your thin shirt until it can’t decide whether to cling to his skin or yours. There’s an ache at the base of your spine, maybe a muscle pulled, and his thumb presses into the flesh there as if he can sense it.

Sounds come back slowly. Joni’s finished and the needle tracks around the runout groove on the record, a little crackle flaring every few seconds where the two channels join. Joel’s breathing too, rough against your shoulder, harmonising with the wet sound of his lips peeling from your skin.

You tilt your head to the side.

Wild eyed, cunt-struck, Joel knocks his nose against yours. Groans low when you flick your tongue out to graze across his bottom lip. He’s bitten it rough and ragged and red, and you want to soothe the sting. His glasses are on top of his head, smudged lenses tucked amidst wild fluffy curls.

You try to kiss him, hard and wet, but he stops you with a hand to your jaw. Cradles your face and strokes your cheekbone and wipes the spittle from your lips before kissing you lightly. Chaste and gentle, like the two of you are ten and have never kissed anyone before, have never been brave enough to use your tongues.

That invisible bleed in your chest drips heavier. You picture a thick spurt of red against your chest cavity as he kisses the corners of your mouth, the tip of your nose, your eyelids.

“You good?” he asks quietly.

You nod, smiling when his lips catch and drag across your skin with the movement of your head.

A moment passes like this. Searching kisses dotted over your smiling face. The swell of your cheeks, the ends of your eyebrows.

“Sometimes I feel like you aren’t real,” Joel confesses. A bare bones whisper that tickles the skin between your eyebrows, where his lips rest now. “Like you might just melt away if I don’t hold on tight enough. Disappear if I look away too long, and I’ll be stuck tryna convince myself that you were ever really here.”

Twisted up in his arms, you can feel the way his heart batters against his chest, thrashing through to vibrate against your back. He might as well be plucking the admission straight from your own mouth.

“I’m real,” you murmur against his neck. “I’m here, it’s real.”

“Me too,” he says. Something wet tickles your skin, but it’s gone in a second. Rubbed over by his thumb, soothed with another kiss.

I love you, you think, but when you speak it comes out as, “No melting.”

Joel laughs softly. Kisses you again. “No melting.”

Thursday.

“It was too much.”

“It was fine.”

“I said the word grateful three times.”

“Four, actually.” You chew the inside of your cheek and shrug apologetically. “I counted.”

“Jesus,” Joel sighs, reaching up to a drag a hand over his face.

He’s pulled his desk chair all the way across the office. Tie loosened and top buttons undone, he slumps in it a little. His thick knees almost brush against yours where you sit in his armchair.

“Hey, I liked it,” you smile, bumping his knee. “It was nice - shows you care.”

“Well, you ain’t all that hard to please,” Joel smarts, lip quirking up into a sly grin.

Mouth open in a scoff, you feign offence, dragging your laptop from your satchel and making a show of ignoring him.

“How the mighty fall,” he continues, sighing dramatically and tilting his head over the back of the chair. The light coming in through the window hits his face just right, and the grey hairs in his curls shine. “Grateful to have been your professor… asshole.”

“Don’t be precious,” you laugh softly. “You’re just embarrassed because you said you were going to miss us.”

“That was a lie,” Joel tuts, brushing you off with a hand in the air, biting back that grin. “I ain’t gon’ miss any of you assholes. And when those final papers come in—” He taps a finger against the top of your laptop “—I’ll be sayin’ my prayers that any of you can string a worthwhile sentence together.”

“If you’re lucky,” you drawl, batting his hand away. “You’ll teach some of us again next year. And when that semester finishes, you’ll say all of that shit again, because you’re a sap, Joel Miller.”

Joel stares at you for a moment, face softening, and then clicks his tongue on the roof of his mouth. “Smart ass.”

“And you love it,” you quip easily, only balking a moment later when the word hangs awkwardly in the air. Hands pausing on your keyboard, you glance up, neck hot, only to find Joel watching you still. Face suspended in a small smile; eyes light as he nods.

“I do,” he says after a moment. “But you’re on thin ice, wise guy.”

He plucks a book from his desk and spreads it open on his lap, either not noticing or simply not caring as you watch on, slack jawed. I do.

After a moment, Joel taps his foot against yours again. “Write.”

So, sucking in a breath, you do. Time passes and rain starts to drizzle against the window as you write, and Joel reads. Having forgotten to put a record on like normal, he hums lightly under his breath; some tune you can’t place but still nod along to. Every few minutes he turns his page, and the sound sends a shiver down your spine.

You hate the way he holds books. Hate the way he cradles the spines, thumb hooked around the footnotes to hold his page. Hate the way his fingers trace the stanzas as he reads, tender and patient, and always afraid to miss something. Hate most the way the tendons on the backs of his hands flex when he turns the page. How the veins around them go fat and blue the longer he does this, as if all the blood in his body is sprinting towards the words. It’s a dangerous sort of eroticism, watching him read. You hate how much you love it.

In need of reprieve, you focus on your own hands. Crack tired knuckles and stretch out cramps and aches, taking a moment to peer over at his desk. The picture frame you’d once been so curious about is propped on the edge of it once again.

You can see Joel behind the glass panel, sporting a shit-eating grin with Sarah, clad in a graduation gown, tucked proudly against his chest. Taken the day she finished high school, you know now. And you’d never noticed it that first time, months ago, but Ellie’s face rests in the corner of the picture. Pink tongue stuck out and eyes pinched shut; she’d snuck her head into the frame at the last second apparently.

You gaze fondly at it, and feel that familiar warmth in your chest over the fact that he’s put it back out. No more hiding.

“What’re you lookin’ at?” Joel glances over his shoulder, and then smiles.

“It’s a good photo,” you say. “You look so happy there.”

“I was. It’s one of my favourites,” he nods, adjusting his glasses on his nose. He seems to consider you for a moment, eyes flicking around your face, fingers fidgeting with the corner of his page. “Hey, I uh… Sarah actually called yesterday.”

He pauses. Takes an unusually deep breath and folds the book shut.

“Okay.” You blink, confused. “Is she alright?” 

“Yeah.” He nods quickly. “Yeah, yeah, she was uh, she was askin’ about the holidays, and if—”

The office door creaks open, and Joel’s mouth seals shut as Rachel walks hastily inside, rushed words filling the small room.  

“Joel, sorry, I need to grab—oh.”

There’s an odd pause after the words catch in her throat. A moment of uncomfortable stillness as the three of you inhale all at once, glancing around the room as if seeing it for the first time.

You and Joel aren’t touching, but your knees rest close, one of his feet in the space between yours on the carpet. Laptop propped on your knees, your final essay still lays open with a stream of edits pasted through the margins, cursor blinking at the end of the word nostos.

Joel, tie undone and sleeves rolled up, looks painfully casual in your presence.

“Sorry.” Rachel blinks, hovering awkwardly as the door clicks shut behind her. “I didn’t realise you had a… a meeting today?” The end of her sentence flares up, as if she’s confused, phrasing it like a dubious little question.

You offer a smile in her direction and hope it comes across as relaxed, a little encroaching even; as if you are the one who has interrupted; the one who should not be here.

“It’s fine,” Joel supplies easily, straightening in his chair to give her his full attention. His face gives nothing away. Stoic and calm, the way you’d imagine him to be if you weren’t here at all. “Everything alright?”

“Yes,” she says, frowning like she’s affronted by the question. Looks between the two of you again, listless fingers curling at her sides. “Just came to get that Livy copy back

You look back at your screen and will yourself to type something. To appear casual, studious, as if your heart isn’t lodged in the base of your throat.

“Sure,” he nods, gesturing vaguely toward his desk. “It’s in one of the drawers on the left.”

Rachel nods, walking over to the desk, and as her back turns you spare a glance at Joel. Find him already looking at you, eyebrows pulled down a little. Pink lips mouth It’s fine, married with a soft nod of his head, and for the second time in seconds you attempt a smile. 

There’s the sound of wood sliding against wood, and then a soft, tired kind of silence. The lack of sound seems to swell, the air in the room thinning, your eyes focusing on Joel’s fingers on the armrest of his chair, tap tap tap, Rachel’s unruly curls somewhere past that, her face downturned, looking at something. Wary breaths held in unison, synced heart beats racing. It’s fine, it’s fine, no melting.

“Is this some kind of joke?”

Your head snaps up. Joel turns in his chair and begins to ask what’s wrong, but all that ends up coming from him is a sort of choked noise, rough around the edges, and breathless in the middle. Chest on fire, you let yourself look past him to where she stands.

Her gaze is hard as she stares Joel down from across the room. A slip of blue; soft material visible between her fingers, held up for a stunned chorus to see.

Your hearing deafens a little as you look on, motionless, a vague memory of birthday boy and got your cute little panties all soaked thinkin’ ‘bout my cock? playing in your mind. Of a damp patch on his shirt as he tucked blue into his desk drawer.

Joel says Rachel’s name, you think. Can see the way his jaw moves, the way her dark eyes sharpen, flitting back and forth between the two of you. And then, like a volcanic eruption or the swell beneath a wave, realisation crests the hill and It’s fine cracks and crumbles and turns to dust in your grasp. You don’t know what she knows, or how she knows, you just know that she does.

“You… what is this?” Rachel’s face shifts into something uncomfortable. A warped, grotesque shot at a smile. But as her lips curl upward, eyebrows down, it’s nothing but a contorted mess that blurs endlessly between confusion, surprise, and then horror. “This… her? She’s the reason you—”

“Rachel.” Joel’s entire body is wound tight. You can see the edge of his jaw from where you sit; the way his shoulders pull back, tight he watches her.

Your body seems to hold itself together for a moment. Breath caught on an inhale, lungs expanded, eyes frozen on the hard line of his nose, the arm of his glasses—places you feel safe to hover. But then she speaks again, and everything lurches back into focus. Like a needle scratching on a record, or tires squealing as a car pulls to an abrupt stop at a red—the words make you cringe, chest deflating and face crumpling.

“Jesus Christ, Joel,” she’s saying, and her voice raises, louder to match the disbelief in her tone. “You… she’s a fucking student.”

When the fear hits it doesn’t come slowly. It strikes hard and solid; an icy sheet of dread that sucks at your fingers and numbs your extremities. Cool and abrupt, it sinks to your bones and promises that you’ll never again feel anything but this. It laughs in the face of your warm kind month, pressing its chilled ice picks to the back of your eyes until they burn.

Her words hang heavy in the air, thick weights that press down on three sets of shoulders, and you have never wanted anything the way you want to see Joel’s face right now. To look at him and believe that this isn’t as bad as you know it to be. See that mouth tell you it’s fine and remember how it tastes.

Instead, a fear-stricken Orpheus, you will yourself not to look at him. Despite that longing, the way your arms beg to stretch out, to hold and be held, you do not look. No, you don’t think you could suffer the double death of both knowing this is happening and seeing him know it too.

In his place, you let your eyes turn to Rachel, and find that she already stares at you, small mouth cracked ajar in incredulity.

Mind whirring, racing, stumbling; fumbling to pin back together the pieces of who you once were in her eyes and who you are now. This woman you admire so, whose career path you’ve dreamt of, whose wit and quirk has propelled you, invigorated you.

It’s agonising to watch—the way her face morphs into something so unfamiliar as she looks at you now. An expression that once held only admiration, kindness, marred here by an inexplicable sense of pity. Not hate, or contempt, which perhaps would be easier to handle. Easier than the way those dark orbs go round and solemn with worry as they fall upon your anguished frame. It’s a slap in the face; camaraderie washed down the drain like the dregs of a long overdue bath, as she grips your soiled underwear in her fist.

Joel says her name, you’ve lost count of how many times he’s said it now, and she spurns his attempt at placation like a snake. Fast and deadly, venom dribbling from her tongue. 

“Someone else?” she says, and her voice is like never before. Mirthless and cold, fury laced through every word. With a sharp jerk of her elbow, she tosses the underwear across the room. They land against Joel’s chest, caught silently in his fist. “You’re fucking sick.”

“This isn’t what you think it is—” Joel starts, and you think you hear his voice shake.

“It isn’t?” She laughs cruelly at that. “You haven’t been sleeping with one of our students?”

The cursor blinks on your screen. Nostos, nostos, nostos, nostos.

“Listen, can we talk about this somewhere else?” he asks. “Not like this, I—”

“Oh, is this not a convenient time for you?” she scowls. “Jesus Christ.”   

The urge to speak bubbles in your chest. You don’t even know what you’re going to say until the words are spilling from your lips, disjointed and warbled, a voice that doesn’t even sound like your own.

“I pursued him,” you say.

You can feel them looking at you. Can hear the way you must sound to her, like some kid and not a woman who’s almost thirty years old and just as much to blame. But you can’t stop it.  

“We’re both adults. He never made me do anything I didn’t—”

Joel says your name sharply. His fist, in the periphery of your downturned gaze, grips your balled up underwear so tight that the blue is entirely invisible within the thick masts of his fingers.

You suck in a breath, and it feels like the last bit of air in the room disappears into your lungs, so you hold it there. Keep it safe inside and figure that if all three of you were to suffocate then at least the truth, and all the foul consequences that come with it, would die here with you.

“Can you give us a minute?”

Silence falls in the lull after those words, and it takes a moment for you to look up, finally. To realise that the double death wasn’t in looking at Joel, but in understanding that he’d spoken these words to you, not her.

Eyes locked with his, you feel the fear move to your side. Hang low until it ebbs and flows in the space beneath your ribs—a sharp ache with no end in sight. He looks tired; resigned. Mouth thin and downturned, cheeks splashed with red.

You think you must say something. Some fumbling, awkward acknowledgement, because Rachel is giving you that look again and you can’t bear it. Can’t stand those eyes, that misplaced pity.

You collect your things, hands numb as you pile them into your bag and head for the door, skin prickling in defence against the silence that follows your movements.

Outside his office, alone in the long corridor, you know you should go. Should follow the wall down the stairs, out to your car, and not look back. Can you give us a minute? But that sharp ache leaves you cowering against the wall, limbs heavy, ear to his door. 

“Rach,” Joel says softly, and it’s so familiar that your stomach rolls, lids fluttering closed. “It isn’t what you think, just let me explain, alright? We met before the term began; before she was my student. Before.”

“And then?”

“What?”

“I said, and then?” Rachel’s voice is steely. “You met her before and, what, you saw her in class and decided it was fine to let it continue? You—”

“Everything was consensual. You know me, I would never—”

“It’s not as simple as that, and you know it. Did you not think about what would happen if you were found out? Her credibility will be destroyed, Joel.”

“I know—”

“I mean for fucksake, her first major presentation was given at a conference where you were the keynote speaker. How do you think this will look?”

“Fuck, I know. Can you keep your voice down, please.”

There’s a brief silence. You hear shuffling, feet against carpet, and a dull spike of fear flares in the back of your mind. The idea of getting caught a second time, eavesdropping from outside the door. Against better judgement, you don’t move, and Rachel speaks again.

“You’re wrong,” she says. “I don’t know you. I… you aren’t the man I thought you were.”

You don’t hear Joel’s response over the drumming in your ears. Hot blood thrashes and roars inside your body, veins pounding with terror. Hands shake damp and weary at your sides, thinking hard, hard, grasping for solution, for the chance to say I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, this is my fault.

But he must have said something because then you hear it. A low fragment of a human voice, words spoken clear as day. They slice through your ears and have you peeling away from the door, swallowed by a white-hot longing to disappear as you stumble down the hall, the stairs, until you’re sucking in cold air on the pavement outside.  

It’s raining hard now. Thin spray that comes at you sideways, lashing at your face and blinding you. You curl your back to the downpour and search thoughtlessly for your car, hands outstretched, those words of hers ricocheting off the inside of your skull.

When you find it, you press your key into the door and slump inside, and you still can’t avoid it. She might as well be standing right by the door, peering in at you. Shock in the jut of her brow, disappointment in the slant of her mouth as she whispers those words over and over through the crack in your window.

"I don’t care if you love her, Joel. I have to report you.”

refs:

joni mitchell's 1971 Blue album. [life changer]

the hollow men by t. s. elliot [fat juicy banger of a poem]

orpheus and eurydice from metamorphoses by ovid, tr. by a. d. melville

thank you for reading x

[princessbrunette]

rafe x crybaby!reader who s when she cums and he has to calm her down everytime but he secretly likes it

you don’t know why your body had that reaction, that same feeling bubbling up inside you everytime you were overwhelmed with pleasure— bottom lip wobbling and sobs finding their way through your moans. rafe didn’t understand it either, but he knew you — and nothing about it surprised him.

“you’re fine.” he scoops you up like you’re nothing after making you cum so hard you were struggling for breath, shaking and crying. “you’re fiiiine. see?” he cradles you like a baby, reluctantly, because god damn he was tired — but you were precious to him, so of course he was gonna give you what you wanted. “caaaalm down. breathe, a’ight? s’just an orgasm. very normal thing.” he even bounces you a little like you were a newborn, but hell— he didn’t know what to do. he was still getting used to the whole comforting you thing.

you sniffle, rubbing your cheek into his chest, self soothing. “i know— dunno why it happens rafe, can’t help it i just—”

“its okay, dont have to explain.” he cuts you off, thumb windscreen-wiping against your back. “i’m here. just focus on gettin’ calm. gonna fuckin’ give me a heart attack, bursting into tears like that.” he sighs quietly, bringing his lips to the crown of your head.

“sorry.” you mumble, breathing starting to calm.

“i know, s’alright. just got you good, di’nt i? you must’ve needed that more than i did, shit.” he chuckles, sitting you up on his lap and swiping the backs of his fingers quickly across your cheeks to rid of your tears. “you good? get it all out?” it’s not unkind, lips twitching up and you sniff once more, nodding happily making him cup the back of your head with his hand.

“alright. that’s my girl.”

[cherrychilli]

18+ Eddie Munson x f! reader, established relationship, reader has sensitive nipples, nipple play(f receiving), brief handjob mention, use of nipple clamps, allusions to PIV sex WC:4K

You were right where you wanted to be, alone together in Eddie's van, not exactly cramped but you liked that it required you to press up against each other a lot more than if you were somewhere more spacious.

After an hour and a half of nervously pulling at the hem of your new pleated skirt, not used to showing your legs off like this, you allowed it to inch up around your thighs when he pulled you closer to straddle his lap, no longer concerned about how much skin you're revealing when he's touching you so eagerly, whispering honeyed praises against your heated skin.

The buttons on your blouse were undone while Eddie had his lips at your neck, sucking and nipping hard enough to make you draw sharp, shuddery breaths. One of his hands snuck underneath the unbuttoned fabric and smoothed over your ribs, thumb tracing the curve of your breast, finding no cotton or lace there this time.

The discovery prompts a smile to emerge on his face which you can feel as he presses sweet kisses along your jaw, one of your own starting to form on your lips as you pluck up the courage to take the lead.

Flattening your palms against his broad chest, you're able to gently guide him back against the leather seat, interrupting the path he was kissing up towards your lips. Eddie lets out a little groan in protest, lips pushing into a pout, not wanting to spend even a moment without his lips on your skin but he's quick to perk up when he sees you start to pull at your blouse.

Easing it down your shoulders, you let him see you like this for the first time, chest completely bare, nipples pert and pulled tight. You’re all warm and soft, perfumed skin turned dewy with a light sheen of sweat; your figure cloaked in moonlight that shines through the windscreen on this lonely dirt road he’s chosen to park at.

In the past, you've only ever let him touch your breasts over your clothes in the short time that you've been together, never receiving any kind of complaint about it from Eddie like you had with some of the boys you’ve dated previously. While those boys had bitched and moaned about it, claiming blue balls and other bullshit excuses in the hopes of getting you to take your clothes off, Eddie had only ever been respectful and considerate, treating you with the decency most others had lacked.

"Shit, baby they're so pretty", he breathed, saying it with so much adoration and sincerity it makes you swoon.

"Can I? please?", he begged softly next, hands drawing closer towards your breasts, waiting for you to give him permission to touch you there.

You draw in a deep breath to prepare yourself.

He was going to find out eventually.

You wanted him to find out. You'd been waiting for him to discover your little secret all on his own because you couldn't bring yourself to look him in the eyes and explain without burning up.

"Yes Eddie, I want you to touch me", you answer with a smile, soft and yearning. Those long, thick fingers you've daydreamed about while watching him pinch the end of a cigarette or pluck aptly at guitar strings were finally reaching for you, climbing higher, thumb and index fingers closing around a perky nipple.

It was easy to anticipate his touch but not the effect of it, calloused fingertips making sparks light up on your skin unlike what you could produce on your own, hot and instantaneous like striking a match.

The way you suddenly gasp and twitch in his lap has him pulling his hand away from surprise, eyes widening, lips parting.

"Sweetheart..."

This was it. This was the part that made your whole face feel like it might go up in smoke, watching the realization spread across his face.

You knew you were pretty sensitive, probably more than most people, some light grazing and gentle squeezing enough to set you alight whenever you played with yourself. For the longest time you wanted to hide it, that feeling only worsening when none of the other boys you went out with showed you the patience or kindness you deserved but with Eddie? Well, you were starting to feel differently about the whole thing now.

"Have they always been like this?", he asks with so much awe pooling in his eyes, all round and practically glittering with excitement that you feel no room for your usual self-consciousness to creep in and make you want to curl away from his sight.

Instead, you lean in a little closer and offer him a chaste nod, breath caught in your throat as he reaches for the same nipple again.

He's a little more gentle this time, index finger pointed to circle the outline of your areola, feeling you twitch and your chest rise and fall with a pleased sigh beneath his fingertip before flicking his eyes up to yours.

"Ever cum from this? just this?"

Oh.

He’s getting right down to it. None of that beating around the bush kind of bullshit and honestly, you liked that.

"Yeah. Yeah, sometimes", you tell him truthfully, growing more excited when he grins up at you, teeth bared like a panther ready to pounce.

Without warning, he begins swiping his thumb back and forth over one tender bud, his bulge growing more prominent under his jeans when you jerk in his lap, thighs squeezing around his hips, letting out a little mewl from the sudden stimulation.

You could have argued that it was mean of him to catch you off guard like that but you didn't. Not when you liked it so much. And he could tell that you did.

Seeing the corner of your lips pick up through your shaky exhale, he progresses to pinching both nipples gently, your spine curving when he tugged on them next and rolls them both between his fingers, squirming in his lap, nails digging into his leather jacket.

"Fuck, baby they're so sensitive", he covers your tits with his large palms, squeezing the soft swell, kneading them.

"Gonna put my mouth on them. That okay?"

"Fuck, yes Eddie please", you choked out, hands leaving his shoulders to wind your fingers into his soft curls, pulling him closer.

He tongues and laps at your nipples with fervor, flicking and swirling, lips sucking the sensitive peaks until you buck and grind down into his lap, clothed clit catching on his bulge perfectly.

The magma he'd breathed into your veins flows through your chest and spills down into your stomach, licking over your bones as it descends, surging, roiling, everything growing hot and contracting tight inside you. "Eddie, oh fuck– wai–", you'd meant to warn him but it all happens much faster and harder than you're used to. You came with your nails scraping along his scalp though he shows no sign of discomfort as you clutched at him, whining so high and loud, the wetness pooling in your panties transferring to his clothes.

Registering the dampness saturating the front of his jeans he reluctantly lets your swollen nipple go, able to pull back when your hold on him slackens, eyes searching for yours.

"Fuck– are you okay? could you do that again? is it too much? do you need a break?", he rambles, caught between not wanting to overwhelm you and wanting to watch you come undone in his lap again and again.

Large warm hands rub soothingly at your waist while you catch your breath, pulse just a little under racing when you give him your answer. One that leads to him making you cum twice more before it's your turn to help sate Eddie's throbbing ache, taking him into your hand and stroking him until he spilled messily all over your fingers.

Sharing your little secret with him sparked an obsession that you happily welcomed. Eddie couldn't get enough of how reactive you were to his touch, the way you writhed and moaned, no penetration required. You reveled in his attention and the pleasure it brought you. So much so that weeks later you find yourself wanting to take things further.

Wanting to surprise him, you had him drive you close to the mall under the pretense of needing to buy something important but it wasn't until you arrived outside the store you'd directed him to that you admitted what the item was.

The adult boutique was one you’d surveyed curiously out of the corner of your eye and only when you were certain no one else could see you do so every time you passed it on your way to the mall, intrigued by the cherry red neon sign advertising its collection of intimate apparel and adult toys, never thinking that one day you'd actually end up going inside.

From the moment you revealed the truth to Eddie, you knew what you were in for. The boy practically lit up like a Christmas tree, unable to contain his excitement. You had to tug him along through the store. Like blinkers on a horse, you kept him on path for what you had come in for, no detours. It was so clear he'd be in there for hours had he come in alone judging by the way his eyes kept darting to every corner, not wanting to miss seeing every item of paraphernalia displayed.

He's like a hummingbird, focus whizzing everywhere, pointing at every item that catches his attention, forgetting the last one as soon as he set his eyes on something new.

"Baby, what about that? you wanna go check it out?"

"Oh my god, look at those"

"What the hell are these even for?"

"Fuck, d'you see the size of that thing?"

And even though you roll your eyes you do find his enthusiasm endearing, even feeling grateful for it because it helps to put you at ease now that you've reached the part of the store you've been looking for.

"Oh honey...", he trails off, taking in the wall length display of literally every kind of nipple clamp one could imagine. While Eddie was awed by it you were a little overwhelmed by the collection and the options available – all kinds of styles, colors and attachments displayed and waiting to be picked.

"I don't know which ones I should choose", you admit, looking to Eddie for some guidance.

"Shit, I'll buy you the whole rack if that's what you want", he reached for a pair fitted with silver bells, poking it with his forefinger to make them chime. Not the most helpful suggestion but the gesture makes you fill with fondness for him nonetheless.

"I just need one pair, Eddie", you remind him with a giggle.

Aside from the store clerk who’d hardly paid either of you any attention, you were the only ones in the store and for that you were thankful. She was stony faced woman who regarded the two of you just once over her magazine when you entered, disinterest clear behind her reading glasses.

She left you and Eddie to browse as you pleased, seemingly having sized the pair of you up as the flustered first-time patrons that you were and looked to be past caring. Honestly, you preferred her distance over the types of sales assistants who tended to hover and with this being an intimate purchase, you'd rather not have a third-party looming over you as you surveyed the options.

You picked up different pairs of clamps off the display, trying to decide what might be best for you, getting Eddie's input too. Some looked cute and appealing and some bore too close a resemblance to something that might be used to commit torture. You ignored those in favor of the less intimidating ones.

"See these ones? they're pretty soft", Eddie picked up what you'd learned from your internet research was a tweezer style clamp, smoothing his thumb along the rubber tip. "Bet they'd fit great", he tells you, nearly holding them up to your breasts before remembering that you're still in public and within the clerk’s line of sight were she to look up from her magazine.

Drawing his hands back just as you let out a sunny laugh, the corner of your eyes crinkling in that way that made him want to kiss you there. He smiled then too; his happiness far vaster than what showed on his face as he saw you beginning to relax. "Anyway, they're not too tight. Adjustable. Could get you nice and worked up with just the right pressure".

It makes your cheeks feel warm hearing him talk about using them on you so unabashedly with that sort of confidence which came more easily to him than it did to you.

"Or these", he picked up a pair of alligator nipple clamps next, similar rubber padded tips adorning it but you know they're a little more advance than the previous pair. "I could get these nice and tight on you...if you want", he added, tapping on the screw mechanism that protruded from its side. "Keep those pretty nipples nice and pinched". He takes a step closer towards you and you can feel the heat radiating off him, just as you're sure he can feel the same coming off you.

You nearly whimper when he tips your chin up, thumb swiping along your bottom lip, tension building. "That what you want? want it to hurt?", he asked, eyes dark.

"Yeah, I want that", you answer, lips pressing against his thumb in a soft kiss, going from demure to brazen in an instant when your tongue slips out to lick the digit, doe eyes turning sultry.

"Jesus, baby..." he felt as if the world was somersaulting.

The choice was obvious then.

The clerk sighed when you approached the counter and set the alligator clamps down, eyes moving from her magazine straight to the register without connecting with either of you as she rang you up.

"Try not to hurt yourself", she said suddenly, all monotonous as your purchase beeped under the scanner and she tapped away on the keyboard.

The comment nearly makes you jump, launching into a sputtering ramble, cheeks very very warm as you assured her that you knew how to use them safely, your mind racing with all you'd learned from your research.

"I meant him", she cuts you off, tipping her head towards Eddie without looking away from the receipt as it spewed out of the thermal printer, tone impossibly bored like she'd been in this situation far more times than could be counted.

Confused, you looked to your boyfriend and quickly understood, finding his cheeks colored a deep shade of mauve, looking like the anticipation of what was to come had gotten the better of him. Your little playful swipe of your tongue must have affected him more than he'd let on.

"Remember to breathe or you'll get lightheaded, son", she advised, the epitome of world-weary. She tore off the receipt and held out your bagged up clamps in one hand and took her magazine back into the other, eyes lowering back to her article.

Eddie cleared his throat, the color draining from his face. Yours felt paper dry when you swallowed, mutely collecting your purchase before joining him in slinking away to the exit.

~

Eddie made the ride home in less time than you thought possible, even with you reminding him to slow down every time he pushed down too much on the accelerator. The mood wasn’t dampened for very long after you’d left the store.

"Sorry babe– I just can't wait", he’d said to you, smile bright, one hand leaving the steering wheel to squeeze your thigh. You felt the same way.

Back at yours, the bag rustled noisily in Eddie’s hold as he nearly tears the thing apart trying to get the clamps out while kicking off his shoes at the same time. You do your part in the meanwhile, shedding your layers of clothing until you’re left in just your panties.

“Alright” he huffed, cheeks pink, wielding the freed clamps, bag crumpled by his feet, tossing his shirt off and undoing his belt. “Got em. So how do you want to do this?”

“I was hoping we could try something I saw a few days ago?”, you posit hopefully.

Eyebrows raising, he listened intently as you told him about the videos you’d watched as part of your research. You had to click through quite a few, multiple viewings of women bound in leather and chains in dingy, scarlet rooms, their nipples slapped and pulled and clamped so tight it made you grimace. None of it was how you wanted to spend your first time using your own clamps with Eddie but then you found a different kind of video. Soft lighting, gentle caresses, airy moans. Sensual, lingering touches that made your own arousal climb, picturing your boyfriend handling you like that - readying you with both delicate care and fervent hands.

“That’s how I want you to touch me at the start. 'Want it like that before you put them on me”, you tell him.

With his pulse pounding and just as the clerk had advised, Eddie remembers to take a deep breath because listening to you talk about how you want him to touch you has him so terribly excited already. “Yeah, I can do that”, he replied, Adams apple bobbing as he swallowed.

So, you positioned yourselves in the same way as in the video you’d watched. Eddie laid back in bed in his boxers, his back against the headboard and legs spread enough for you to lie between them with your head resting against his chest.

The clamps are set aside on your bedside table for the time being. He’s sweet with you as he gets you ready, lips dropping kisses on your cheek, neck and shoulder, hands warming your waist, climbing higher to cup your breasts gently.

“You’re amazing you know that? Surprising me today with all of this”, he squeezed gently and you sighed like you've been deprived of his touch for too long.

“Wanted to do it sooner”, you breathed, fingers furling over your thighs.

“Yeah?”, he prompts, swiping a thumb mildly over your right nipple, coaxing it to perk up.

“Yeah…you make me feel so good…so safe…never would have done it if it wasn’t for you, Eddie”, you confide, earnestly.

His heart swells hearing you say all that about him. “Sweetheart”, he crooned, feeling you shiver in his arms when he said it, rolling your left nipple between his fingers as you moan.

You let him touch you like this for a few minutes, fingers circling, sweeping gently over each peak, surprising you with an occasional pinch and groaning proudly when it made you arch into him further.

“Eddie, I think I’m ready now”, you let him know with a soft whimper.

He picks up one of the clamps and brings it up to your chest, pressing down on the lever, both of your eyes trained on the rubber tips parting to make room for your nipple.

“Gonna start with one. Okay?”, he circled your right nipple and you sucked in a short breath in preparation.

“Okay”

It’s impossible to feel nervous when he’s holding you so lovingly, letting the rubber tips close around your nipple gently. "How's that feel?", he makes sure to check. Your right breast pulsed from the scintillating twinge; the peak of your nipple squeezed just the perfect amount between the clamps.

"Good, really good– hurts but not too much. I like it", you explain softly

He clamps the second one on as well, the same sensation washing over your left breast too, the weight of the clamps hanging on your chest heightening the intensity with a gentle pull adding to the pinch.

"Fuck, these look amazing on you", he praised with a low drawl.

You could feel Eddie's cock pushing against the base of your spine now, trapped behind his boxers for the time being. "Think you could play with your clit for me? Until it’s time to take them off?", he requests sweetly.

You nod, working a hand between your thighs, finding the bump of your clit over your panties and rubbing gently to stave the pressure inside you.

"That's my good girl", he encourages you. It makes him feel greedy listening to you pleasure yourself while he squeezes your tits, committing every little mewl and moan to memory, lightly nudging and tugging at the clamps.

“Can still hardly believe this if I’m being honest, honey”, he mumbles against your cheek, his chin balanced on your shoulder.

“Because I don’t seem the type?”, you guessed with a whimper.

“You hid it pretty well, you have to admit”, he shrugged “Unlike me. It’s no secret that I’m into this stuff. Just look at me”

You giggle softly. “Yeah, the handcuff belt’s not the most subtle thing, is it?” you teased and it makes Eddie laugh too.

“It wasn’t easy. Hiding it from you I mean. I didn’t want to. I’m glad I don’t have to anymore”, you tell him gasping as your clit throbs beneath your fingers, panties growing damp with slick.

“Me too– Jesus you look so fucking sexy with these on, angel. Pretty naughty”, he winds a hand up to wrap around your throat in a light grasp, tugging on one of the clamps with the other.

“Eddie… how much longer?”, you whined, feeling impatient.

“Just a little longer, baby”, he chuckled.

The pinch begins to develop into a sting, not unpleasant but definitely more intense now. Your fingers slow down on your clit, still working you up but not enough to tip you over the edge.

The longer the clamps remain on your body the more you begin to squirm and twist like you’re trying to get away from the pinch, nearing your limit and Eddie senses it easily.

“Alright, let’s get them off.”

Gently, he takes off the right one first, marveling at how swollen and puffy your nipple looks now. It tingles as the blood flow resumes, a subtle throbbing coursing through in time with your heartbeat as well. when Eddie removes the second one next it feels the same, both of your nipples tingling and throbbing, so tender and in desperate need of having his fingers on them.

“Eddie please touch me”, you mewl, raking your nails over his thigh with your free hand.

It’s fiery bliss when he plays with your nipples now, making you cry out when he drags the blunt edge of a nail across your areola.

“That’s it baby, keep playing with that pretty clit for me– god, they’re so fucking perfect and sensitive”

You work yourself over with messy circles, taking on a sloppy but firm rhythm as you continue to stimulate your twitching clit.

“I meant what I said back at the store. I’ll buy you whatever you want, shit– we’ll have to because I’m going to wear these the fuck out, I can already tell”, he groans into the juncture of your neck, lightly humping his cock against your lower back for some much needed relief.

“Eddie” you moan, your orgasm in sight as he rolls your sore nipples between his fingers, tugging them and releasing them to watch your breasts bounce against your chest.

“You’d look so pretty with them on while you bounce on my cock. You want that don’t you? Want me to fill you up while you show off these pretty tits?”

Your fingers have turned tacky with your slick, the beginnings of a cramp starting to form in your knuckles but you're too fucking close to even think of stopping now. “Yes, Eddie – wanna feel you inside while I wear them”, you keen, your thighs squeezing so tight, the same as your belly when finally, the floodgates containing your pleasure swing open.

The impact feels like a thunderclap, a choked cry of Eddie's name spilling out of you as you writhe in his arms, spine curving into a beautiful arch, nails sinking into your bedsheets, your cunt drenching your panties with your tangy essence.

When you come to, you feel like you've been drifting in and out of weightlessness, realizing Eddie's been soothing you through the comedown, gently stroking your body when you turn around to blink up at him, smiling thankfully.

"How'd that feel?" he asks as if the answer wasn't obvious.

"Amazing", you tell him anyway. "Fuck Eds, I wanna do it again".

His smile widens into a toothy grin. He turns to snatch up the clamps once more from the bedside table before he wrestles you onto your back, peeling your wet panties from your body as you squeal delightedly, face flaring hot when he takes a moment to lick at the slick soaked cotton and lets out a rumbling groan.

"Good because–", he moves on to gently reattaching the clamps onto your swollen nipples again as you mewl, tugging his boxers off and letting them join your panties on the floor. "Gonna make you cum all over my cock while you wear them this time."

[rafeandonlyrafe]

just not home

words: 1k

warnings: rafe gets kicked out of his house, mentions of hooking up/friends with benefits but not explicit

taglist: @drewstarkeysbae @thelomlisrafecameron @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @winterrrnight @slut4drudy @drewsbabygirll @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @jjmaybankisbae @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450

you groan and mentally curse whoever it is that is causing your phone to ring, waking you up from a pleasant dream. 

you grab it off the nightstand, briefly glancing at the contact name before answering, keeping your eyes partly closed as the screen causes you to squint, not adjusted to the light yet.

“rafe, it's late.” you say, not greeting him. “if you're calling to fuck, the answer is no. im too tired.”

rafe has a habit of hitting you up whenever he needs to release some tension. you were sort of friends, at least at first, but it all changed when you slept together once when drunk at a party, then repeatedly ended up in each other's beds until it became a regular thing.

“it's not that um… can i come over though?” rafes voice is softer than you're used to, and it causes you to shake off a bit more of the fog that the sleep has over your mind.

“what's wrong?” you question.

“nothing.” rafe says. you don't respond, waiting to see if he will volunteer more information, but it doesn't come.

“where are you?” you try instead.

“walking over to your house.” rafe says, and your ears then pick up the background noises, the cicadas and frogs in the distance. 

“why are you walking?” 

“my dad took the keys to my truck.” rafe explains. you sigh and switch the phone to speaker as you get out of bed, shivering when you throw back the covers and are exposed to the air. “he kicked me out.”

“ward did what?” you question, putting on a pair of crocs and heading out your bedroom door to find your purse and car keys.

“fuck.” rafe groans. “im sorry, y/n. i shouldn't have called, just go back to sleep.”

“hey, stop that.” you say, heading out the door once you have everything you need to drive. “im coming to pick you up right now, where are you?”

rafe responds with his location. you remain on the line as you drive, but stay quiet to focus on the road. even though there's no cars, you're not fully awake yet and need all of your brain power to focus on getting to rafe safely.

your heart breaks a little when you spot him, head hung low as he walks down the sidewalk. you pull your car to the side of the road, getting out and immediately pulling rafe into your arms, holding him close until he hugs you back.

“i didn't have anywhere else to go.” rafe whispers into your hair.

“it's okay.” you say, rubbing your hand over his back. “im glad you called.”

you pull away from the hug, seeing the look in rafes eye. above everything else, he looks tired, completely exhausted. you have never shared an kiss that didn't lead to or happen during sex, but you can't resist pressing your mouth against his pouty lips. rafe kisses back gently, and you can feel a bit of the tension leave his body as he does.

“come on, it's cold out here.” you tug at rafes hand, watching him sit down in your passenger seat as you round the car to drive you home.

you reach across the center console, linking your hands together. “do you wanna talk about what happened?” you ask.

rafe is quiet for a moment before he squeezes your hand, keeping his eyes on the road out the front windscreen instead of looking at you. “can we talk in the morning? im just so tired right now.”

“yeah.” you nod. “thats fine, rafey.”

you fall into comfortable silence on the way back home, keeping your hand in rafes, your fingers intertwined. it dawns on you that this is probably the most intimate moment you've had with rafe, despite having sex with him multiple times, it's this moment of innocently holding hands, no build up to anything more, just rafe needing you, and you giving him a physical connection.

you pull right up to your door, not bothering to care about your shitty parking job as one of your tires sits off your driveway and in the grass. you just want to get back in bed.

“ill leave first thing in the morning, i just needed a place to sleep.” rafe says as you head inside, making you turn to look at him.

“rafe, don't be ridiculous.” you sigh, feeling sad that he ever thought you would kick him out. “you can stay as long as you need.”

“thank you, baby.” rafe says, following you up the stairs. he pauses at the top, looking at the multiple bedroom doors.

“i can sleep in one of the guest bedrooms if you want.” he offers, and you scoff.

“we've shared a bed before.”

“after we've had sex, yeah.” rafe shrugs. “i just don't want you to be uncomfortable.”

“i think you owe me some cuddles after waking me up in the middle of the night.” you say, and rafe nods with a small grin, glad that you agreed, not wanting to be alone tonight.

you head towards your bedroom, shutting the door behind you after rafe enters. you climb into bed, your legs giving out the second you're back on your mattress.

“i don't have… any pajamas.” rafe sighs, looking down at his jeans and polo shirt.

“just wear your underwear. i don't care, just get over here.” you pat the open spot on your bed, managing to keep your eyes open and on rafe as he strips down to his boxers before getting into bed with you.

you cement yourself to his side, sighing softly when he wraps an arm around you, letting you rest on his chest.

“thank you.” he whispers.

“of course, rafe.” you press your lips against his bare skin, the best kiss that he's going to get out of you as you struggle to keep your eyes open. you fall back into a deep slumber as rafe gently strokes over your back, feeling comfortable and safe with your legs tangled together with his.

[stevebabey]

totally didn’t expect the other part to do well at all but 😳 apparently i don’t know steddie fans. as such, have a part two <3 part one is here again, look out for the borrowed hunger games lines

“You’ve ruined your life, you know that, right?”

The kitchen had been basking in the lull of the quiet morning before Eddie had spoken up, breaking the silence. Steve blinks, realising he’s been zoned out staring at the swirling bubbles atop his mug of coffee and look up at Eddie across the table.

“Doing what you did.” Eddie continues. There’s this slight in his voice. Steve figures it’s not really aimed at him.

Chief Powell had agreed to not release the details of the case to the public for obvious reason. However, it went without saying that of the cops working the case, not all would be so free-thinking. There were plenty who deemed leaking the alibi and letting the town devour Steve’s reputation a more than fair consequence.

And, well, Eddie didn’t have any reputation left to tarnish or save.

Steve takes a sip of his coffee and lets the warm flavour coat his tastebuds as he tries to puts his thoughts in the right order.

He knows how Eddie sees this— sees it as this burden that he’s imposed on Steve’s life. That he had been able to accept it at first, the whispers of freedom tempting enough that he could be selfish enough to gasp them.

Then yesterday afternoon, Steve had come back from Bradley’s Big Buy with dried yolks splattered across the windscreen and regret howled through Eddie like a hurricane, fierce and wild. Realisation of what Steve had condemned himself to— no- what Eddie had condemned him to finally sunk in.

Steve can tell he’s been stewing on it all night. In the couple weeks he’s been here, staying in under the Harrington roof just down the hall from Steve, he’s surprised by how easily his brain has tacked on to Eddie’s habits. His little Eddie-ism’s. That’s what Steve calls them.

Like how Eddie’s nose will twitch if there’s something on his plate he doesn’t like, but he’s too polite to say it.

How he thumbs up and down the edge of a book when he’s reading, completely entranced. Doesn’t even notice his moving, twittering fingers.

How he’s always so much twitchier the morning after a sleep laced with terror after terror. It gives him away before Steve even see the bags under his eyes, the hollowness of his face.

Steve recognises that one from himself, from back when he’d gone through it all for the first time. The flinch is unshakeable when you’re convinced it’s all going to come back— that the world is going to tear itself up and spit out monsters you haven’t even dreamed of.

Today, Eddie isn’t twitchy like that. He’s tired, a sunken in face that comes from a bone-deep aching tiredness. He picks at his breakfast, bitterly avoiding the eggs on his plate.

And Steve can’t pretend to understand how Eddie grew up — can take his guesses but ultimately won’t get near the experiences he knows Eddie has lived through. Steve has only ever been on the other side. Stayed silent while someone else through snide comments and used the word fag like a jagged blade, to cut someone down.

So, he doesn’t know. Not even a year with Robin as his best friend and all her knowledge could’ve prepared Steve for the startling fear he’d felt when coming out of the store to the sight of a group of boys around his car, cartons of eggs in hand. One with a crowbar.

They would’ve smashed his windows if he had come out a minute later, he’s sure of it.

It had been like getting doused in icy water — the Letterman jackets on all of them, the sneers, still jeering taunts as they’d scattered across the parking lot. Steve had felt the bile rise in his throat as he got in the car and sat, staring at the steering wheel, his slimy fear melting and mixing with his anger.

Eddie’s point of view suddenly resounded within Steve in a way he hadn’t known before. Standing on tables, hollering about conformity, leaning in to every foul rumour about him— like a person drawing to full height, making himself as big as possible, to scare off a bear.

Steve gets that a little more now.

So, when Eddie tells him you’ve ruined your life he knows what he’s trying to tell him. Except, Steve doesn’t know how to say lightly that he’d gladly ruin his life to save Eddie’s. It’s too much — but Steve always is. Always loves in these big heavy ways that are too hard to handle.

So instead, he shrugs and says, “Consider it a trade.”

Eddie cocks his head, like a dog, just an inch.

“For following me into the lake and saving my life.”

Eddie scoffs and his head lolls back dramatically like what Steve’s said is ridiculous. “Jesus H Christ, dude, you saved yourself. I told you that I would’ve been too cowardly to come after you if Birdie and Wheeler hadn’t gone in first.”

He mutters the word cowardly with a hiss.

“Well then, a trade for drawing the bats away.”

“You mean the time I nearly became hamburger helper for the bats?”

“Christ, Eddie,” Steve scoffs. “I didn’t take you as someone who fished for compliments so hard.”

Eddie frowns, dropping his fork with a clatter on his plate. “I— what? I’m not- I don’t even—”

Steve cuts in. “You helped us and you saved my life, whether your horrible little brain can admit that or not. So,” He sits back in his chair with another little shrug and sips his coffee. “Equal trade.”

Eddie frowns, a crease forming between his brows. “No, not equal, Steve. You don’t get what you’ve done you— ugh, you just don’t—”

He huffs, cutting himself off, clearly unsure of how to voice his frustrations. He slumps back in his chair and eyes the eggs on his plate again with a glare this time.

Steve waits a moment and hopes he isn’t overstepping when he says, voice quiet, “I know, Eddie.”

Across the table, Eddie’s eyes raise to meet Steve’s and he doesn’t sound smug, he doesn’t sound angry, he just sounds defeated when he speaks.

“Do you?”

“Maybe not quite the extent of it until yesterday but, yes… I know.”

His words sink it and Eddie looks… affronted. His eyes get a little wide and a tremble finds his lips. Like the whole time he’d been convinced Steve wasn’t sure what he’d been getting into, that the reality hadn’t set in— that any moment he would rescind his alibi and throw Eddie to the cops and let them snap the cuffs back on him.

Steve hates that expression. Loathes that Eddie is so surprised that anyone would do this for him — something as important as keeping him alive and out of prison. Steve hates it because he knows it means that somewhere along the way, somebody had convinced Eddie that nobody would.

So, if he’s got to be the one to convince Eddie that someone will— that he will make the effort, will put his neck on the line because… well, isn’t that what Steve does best?

He’ll do it gladly.

Eddie picks up his fork and stabs his fork into the egg, the buttery yolk spilling onto the plate. Steve takes it as a truce, as him meeting him in the middle.

"So,” Steve swirls the mug in his hand and swills another sip back. Swallows it and takes a page out of Eddie’s book and goes the joke, leaning forward, forearms on the table. “If I’m gonna be your boyfriend for the foreseeable future I should probably know more stuff about you. Y’know, like, uh, the deep stuff.”

Eddie’s sunk back down in his seats but at Steve’s final sentence, he perks up. A smirking sort of grin crossing his face and Eddie twists a piece of his hair in front of his mouth. He hasn’t kept eating yet, too focused on the conversation.

"Uh-oh, the deep stuff.” He’s got that teasing tone in his voice. “Like what?"

"Like...” Steve scrambles to pull something from his brain. “Um, what’s your favourite colour?"

“Oh well, now you've stepped over the line."

Eddie’s sarcasm melts into a chuckle as Steve laughs, ducking his head instinctively. When he lifts his gaze, he’s relieved that Eddie looks a little lighter. Not much but a smidge of difference — Steve can see it if he squints. He’s sure it won’t be the last conversation they’ll have about this but for now, it’s settled.

Curiosity piques in Steve and he tries to sound casual when he says, “No, really, what is it?”

Eddie blinks and curls his hair around his finger once more, tugging it lightly. He seems to be considering his answer, eyes dropping to the sweater Steve’s donning.

“Yellow.” He finally says. “Not mustard but, y’know, lighter. Colour of the moon on Halloween or…”

“Cheese?” Steve suggests.

Eddie laughs. “Yeah, the right kind of cheese, sure. What about you? Favourite colour?”

Steve considers it — for the longest time, it had been red because Tommy had told him that red or blue were the coolest colours to like, way back in third grade. No one has asked him since then.

“Pink, actually.” Steve admits, hand coming up to brush across his nose, trying to hide behind the motion. He envies Eddie’s long curls suddenly. He feels the need to explain, more words rolling off his tongue. “Like, y’know, when the sun starts to set, like all dusky, it’s just… nice.”

Eddie’s staring at him peculiarly, his lips parted yet quirked up in this faint smile. If Steve didn’t know any better, he’d call it awe. Breaking his stare, Eddie chuckles again, finally properly picking his fork up to finish his meal.

“Steve Harrington.” He murmurs warmly, more to himself. His lips twitch with a smile. “You just keep surprising me.”

—

some people wanted more 🤲 uh get tagged idiot - normally i don’t do taglists but u were all so kind as to reply to the post & i didn’t get a chance to say thank u for ur lovely words! this is my thank u! have sum more!

@friendlyorange @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @lostinadmiration @life-love-musicaltheatre @oldlovershippiemusic5 @phoeniceae @catateme9 @lolawonsstuff @justagaypanda @pluto-pepsi @whoopstie @scenesofobx @justforthedead89 @musical-theatre-gay @theperksofbeingstjimmy @ikilledabuginthewall @imauselessartist @fridgebaby @lingeringmirth and uhhh @corrodedcoughin cos i still do a little squeal when u rb my tings even tho we’re mewchies :D

[aamircoeur]

stop and stare ー Ken Sato rockstar au.

wherein someone in the crowd catches the eye of kenji sato, the lead guitarist and main vocalist of the band kaijus.

rakista kenji so real. sfw, one-shot. gn!reader, band!au. UNEDITED

edit: check out this art by @preatzells !! https://shorturl.at/kpMZd

the cheers started when each of the band members made their way up to the stage, but the volume of the screams only reached their climax when kenji sato made his way towards the center with his white electric guitar, a small wave directed to the crowd, and his million-dollar smile.

finally done prepping their instruments and themselves, their first song started with a beat from the drums, with the rhythm guitarist following its lead. kenji sato held the mic with one hand and his guitar with the other as he leaned in to the mic to sing.

ー "the mirror's image tells me its own time. but, i'm not finished, 'cause you're not by my side."

you had your hand up high, holding your phone while it recorded the band. you were a few rows behind the barricade, right at the middle, parallel to where kenji sato was singing.

ー "and as i arrived i thought i saw you leaving, carryin' your shoes,"

kenji was swinging his hips slowly as he sung and strummed his guitar, his rings reflecting the light of the spotlight that he was under. his eyes kept wandering within the crowd, looking at the row that was furthest from the stage before flicking his sight to the ones at front.

ー "decided that once again i was just dreamin' of bumpin' into you."

he took a step away from the mic before dropping his head low along with his torso for a headbang, before coming up to the mic, his rings scratching onto the windscreen.

ー "now it's three in the morning, and i'm try'na change your mind,"

you lowered your hand and stopped your phone from recording to stare at the way his fingers plucked at the strings of his guitar.

ー "left you multiple missed calls and to my message, you reply,"

it was as if kenji's body was in complete sync with the song that his band was playing; the way his chest rose and fell after and before every lyric that he sung, his hair, untamable, swaying and dropping to his face while he moved his head to the rythym.

ー ""why'd you only call me when you're high?""

you sung along.

ー ""hi, why'd you only call me when you're high?""

you were absolutely starstruck. working overtime at your job was definitely worth it just to afford vip tickets for your first concert now that you're in the middle of kaiju's crowd with kenji sato singing his heart out in front of you.

ー "somewhere darker, talkin' the same shite. i need a partner, well, are you out tonight? it's harder and harder to get you to listen, more i get through the gears."

you watched him, not caring of the pushes that the people beside you gave you out of their own excitedness. staring at him, the way he ran his hand through his hair for the nth time, and the way that his black-colored eyes ran it's way through the crowdー

ー "incapable of makin' alright decisions, and havin' bad ideas."

before it landed on you.

ー "now it's three in the mornin' and i'm try'na change your mind,"

your lips parted and your breath hitched at the eye contact. he was staring right at you.

ー "left you multiple missed calls and to my message you reply,"

his eyes quickly broke the contact, making you remember that you were actually allowed to breathe. you ran your hand through the side of your hair, tucking it behind your ear as an attempt to compose yourself.

ー ""why'd you only call me when you're high?""

without missing a beat, his eyes were on you again. flustered, you looked away to see the bassist smiling as they played, then your eyes were back to looking at him.

ー ""hi, why'd you only call me when you're high?""

to your surprise, his eyes were still on you. you felt as if there was a spotlight on you, too. everyone else, including the music that was playing, were nothing but background noise to you at the moment. kenji sato was looking at you.

taking a deep breath, you looked up at him and smiled, mouthing a simple "hello," to the vocalist.

you saw kenji sato smile from ear to ear before leaning into the microphone. "hello, baby."