#I need to make a list of everyone’s “usual” drink is at the bar-

[clownsuu]

Hey I have a question but are you the original creator for mafia mob au or is someone else cause I think I stumble in a TikTok creater and they made a mafia wally au. Both arts are amazing but I was just curious to know.

I think I know who you may be talking about! There is basically two “mafia” aus lol, theirs and mine- our aus are completely separate from each other and from what I know, have no affiliation with each other whatsoever besides coincidence of universe

[prael]

Day 12: Three Shades of Sin

Le Sserafim Kazuha & Yunjin & TripleS Xinyu

words: 11,736 12 Days of Praelmas Masterlist

Look, you know this story starts with the way Xinyu has her fingers threaded beneath Kazuha's jaw, her lipstick smeared off in bits and pieces, but that’s not actually how it ends. It’s a slow descent; watching your girlfriend kiss someone new is a beautiful disaster that never really loses its lustre, and the truth is, there’s no moral at the end of this tale - the closest you’ll get to something cathartic is this:

Yunjin grinning at you, sunshine-bright and wickedly gorgeous. “You gonna invite us in, or what?”

-

First things first: the bar is packed - oh, it's always packed - but especially so on the nights when Kazuha performs. It's not a burlesque club, not really; in theory, it's not all that much more than an upscale lounge for yuppies with more money than they need, trying to pretend they're living sophisticated lives with a splash of debauchery on the side.

It's packed, obviously, because they're getting a little more debauchery than expected tonight - but all the familiar faces are there: the grad-school crowd who treat this club like the neighbourhood dive bar; the pretentious A-list types who claim to hate this kind of thing but always seem to show up anyway; the trust-fund kids and their vices and habits; the semi-locals, like you. They’re the mainstay: you know their drink orders, what they’re into, whether you’ve gone home with them before. You know who is dating who. Who's got a looser distinction between romance and just fooling around. Who got fired. Who's always fucked up beyond all help. You know the girl sitting at the end of the bar nursing a cosmo and waiting for you, alone.

She'd come to see Kazuha perform like everyone else.

"You missed my boyfriend," Xinyu says to you, just shy of winking. She looks beautiful - she always does, of course, but this time: she's wearing black leggings and a crop top that shows off the cut of her waist, her toned abs. The skirt is so small it's basically an accessory to how she's got her dark hair pinned up into something half-bedroom, half-backstage-chic, hoop earrings that dangle just above the slope of her neck.

"Did I?" you reply, coy. It's not flirting - or maybe it is, you're not sure.

She tips her head, cheek resting delicately on her knuckles. You end up staring at her mouth; the words coquettish and prurient and absolutely, unquestionably fuckable are swirling around your brain. "Yep," she says, and her lips curve beautifully. "You did."

Xinyu turning up the dial until she's impossible to resist is pretty much standard-operating-procedure here- it's sort of like this place runs through her blood. She's claimed ownership of it for herself.

"It's too bad," she says, drumming acrylics on the countertop. She shoots you a look that's all bedroom eyes: that drowsy, liquid-lidded kind of want that tells you she'd have her head tilted back against your pillows in less than a few minutes if you asked. "I think you would've really gotten along."

"Guess I'll just have to settle for his girlfriend." You lean closer to her, conspiratorial. "This is fun. What else are we doing tonight?"

"Oh, yeah, you know." She stretches long and languid, satisfied. "Same as usual." That means dancing - some partying, probably lots of drinking, flirting. You're going to take her home and pin her wrists to the pillow above her head. You don't mind any of that - it's become your life, these last months, too. You know the routine here like you've known it for years.

"Want something to drink?" you ask her, and Xinyu considers you. Like she's going to pounce.

"Not really," she says, and then her chin fits into the dip between her thumb and pointer finger. You get closer. "Think I'm thirsty for something else." There's nothing left of the distance between you, and you're not kissing her yet, not yet - but the tension is making a point of shuddering and cracking.

All that promise of something more.

"Don't let this go to your head, but." Xinyu reaches out a hand. You play into the script; you take it and bring her knuckles to your lips. Her wrist smells like the perfume you bought her a Christmas ago. You kiss there, too - for a split second. "I love my boyfriend. He's great." Your eyes dart to hers again - she's always watching, waiting for the attention to come back her way. "But sometimes girls just hit differently, right?"

"See anyone in particular?" you say, still nonchalant, while Xinyu hooks a fingertip onto the neckline of your shirt.

"Oh," says Xinyu. Her grin is devilish, dangerous: like she'd carve right through your throat. "That's cute of you. Like, you really wanna know, hm? I have a list."

"How long is it?" You raise an eyebrow, feign boredom. She likes the challenge.

"Depends on the night."

"But I'm at the top," you continue, unabashed - your usual brand of charming. "Right?"

Xinyu laughs; it's a delight, musical and precious. You'd listen to it for hours if you could.

"You already know, honey." Her nails skim your neck; they catch in your hair. The strands fall over the silver around her fingers. "Top of my list, and everyone else's, too."

"Nope." You lean even further over the bar, stealing the inches, taking them for your own. "Not tonight."

"I don't share." Xinyu taps your nose, prim, smirking. Her eyes are shining, brimming with energy - you can't look away from her. She's intoxicating. She's beautiful. "He wouldn't like that anyway."

"Oh, come on. That sounds like a 'him' problem. Right?"

There's a raucous chorus of laughter from across the floor: people coming in from the cold, wanting to see the show, see a gorgeous girl in next-to-nothing strut her stuff up onstage. You watch as Xinyu's eyelashes flutter, delighted - she's waiting for something to begin; this is a ritual that repeats, the fervour starting low and ending high.

And it starts, and it ends, always, with you looking at her.

"We'll see," sings Xinyu, and she twirls on her stool, one leg neatly hooked over the other. The bar erupts into thunderous applause - the lights dim, and Kazuha emerges onstage.

-

See, the club isn't normally about stripteases - sure, some girls dance - but this is still a place with bottle service and $18 cocktails, not one where dancers make a show of stripping out of their lingerie. And it's not like you care much for how people try to make themselves seem better than they are, really: if you wanna be trashy, fine. If you want to keep up appearances, put on some kind of show like you're worth a dime more than anyone else out there, great, fine, do that. This place may be the latter, but in the end, it's all the same; everything falls apart once the night sets in. Everything stays messy, no matter which box you paint yourself into.

That's a long preface to say: you're just not expecting her in the slightest.

To be honest, most nights aren't all that exciting - there are people to remember, drinks to mix up, tabs to close and mouths to kiss, sometimes - but mostly, there's not a lot worth mentioning. When people come into the bar - the people who are new, the people who think that this is an opportunity for the night to turn interesting - you look up, size them up, wonder who they're going home with, if you're interested at all. More often than not, it's none of the above.

"Hi," says the new face as she slides up to you on the stool. Well, okay, so this part is different.

Xinyu stepped out earlier - said she had someone else to find, said you'd probably like who she had in mind, but whatever. You'll see when you see. You're not picky. You were ready to dick around on your phone until your girlfriend figured out which plaything you were both in the mood for tonight - you're not opposed to another addition, not at all - but then-

Then the girl sits at the bar, leans on her elbows over the polished surface. Rakes her fingers through the wisps of dark hair at her forehead, pushes it back, and -

And meets your gaze dead on, and doesn't break it. Not even a bit.

Okay - so, she's blindingly, impossibly stunning. A textbook fucking ten.

"Hi," she says again, firmer, like she knows what you're thinking. "Do they serve anything here that isn't blue or tastes like putting your tongue to a nine-volt?"

It's such a shockingly mild opener that you immediately laugh at her. It just spills right out of you.

"Yeah," you say, leaning against the bar, mildly amused. You call over the bartender, order in duplicate - you're pretty sure that's how this works, you have to get the drink in front of her, not even mention it, just let her know that you're calling the shots here - and then fix her with another look, eyebrows quirked. "New in town?" you ask. Small talk. Sure.

"No," she replies, "just new in here." She tosses her silky red hair over her shoulder. Reveals the halter-neck of her blouse and the deepness of the dip. Her collarbones are out. You barely even notice. "Also," she continues, "this place is a fucking zoo."

There's no patience to her. She's harsh, no filter. Your drinks arrive, and she hardly reacts when they do.

"It's a bit crowded." You're trying somewhat to stay diplomatic. "It's the girl on stage," you offer, and you gesture vaguely towards Kazuha's figure: long legs and curves in all the right places, raven-black hair falling to her waist. Everyone looks at her like she's a gift sent down from heaven. She's dressed in something gold, sequin, and she knows that they're pretty much right.

"Well, I guess that explains it."

"Everyone's hoping she'll take off more clothes." You shrug your shoulders at your new companion. "But she never does, so I'm not quite sure why everyone thinks tonight will be the exception."

"No shit," the girl drawls, her tone entirely blasé - she's so painfully disaffected, the disinterested, entitled type; your heart skips a beat. "No offence to you, man, but I think most of the guys here are either idiots or creeps." The redhead wrinkles her nose. "Or both."

"A fair assessment, honestly," you muse. Sip your drink. It's bitter. She hasn't touched hers. "You think I'm any different?"

The corner of her mouth ticks up. "No," she says.

The room seems to tilt sideways, and everything gets fuzzy: it feels like you're supposed to be talking in code or perhaps just reading between lines - there's a whole secret conversation happening beneath this surface-level, meaningless banter. You're making contact, making plans. She knows where this is going. You're right there with her.

"The girl up there is cute," the redhead says after a while, thoughtful. "What's your deal with her? How come you haven't turned into one of the animals in the horde yet?"

It's an obvious line of questioning.

"She's nice," you admit, "but I've already got something good going with someone. No need to push my luck with anyone else."

At this, she raises an eyebrow, curious, cautious, wary. "Nice, how?"

"I mean, she's beautiful," you say, "very pretty." Easy things. Surface things. These things anyone could list off. "Cute voice."

"Nothing in particular, though, huh." Her eyes flick back to the performer onstage - Kazuha's walking the catwalk, kicking her heel out at the men closest to her; her skirt rides up, and everyone goes absolutely wild for it - and then returns her focus to you. "Not your type?"

You've been in this seat - or one just like it, at least - watching Kazuha's ass onstage for countless nights. You're well aware of her appeal, but you can't figure out a harmless way to say your mind is giving you three images of a palm-print burning across the same expanse of skin at any given moment.

You shrug, ambivalence feigned. "I guess not."

"It's funny." She props her chin on her palm, her nail polish glittering against her jawline. She's barely touched her drink. "The girl's normally such a doll, right? Kind of girlish. Could barely hold a conversation with a boy when I met her. And now she's all that. On stage."

"Hmm," you reply, like you can't imagine it. "Is that right?"

"Oh yeah," she tells you, half-smiling. Her lipstick leaves marks on the glass as she takes her first sip. "Years of ballet school will do that to a girl. Though maybe something about performing just became second nature."

"Explains the legs," you mutter, feeling the look she levels with you; dangerous. "And the gracefulness," you amend quickly. She raises an eyebrow at you, and you raise one right back; it's a power struggle, and when her fingers curl across her chin, you almost choke on nothing.

"Legs and grace," she says. "That's about it for her, huh?"

You nod, your voice quiet, soft.

"How do you know her?" you ask gently.

"Oh, honey," she croons. Her face is halfway to laughter, mirth perched like a threat in her voice. She puts a palm flat on the counter and slides it forward so her manicure scrapes at the varnish. Leans into you over the edge of the bar and presses her lips to your ear. "I'm fucking her."

Everything in your brain stops, and starts; everything crashes down around you; everything rearranges.

"You know," the girl continues like she's explaining something casual, something innocent, "she's real fun on her hands and knees. Can't get enough of me." She tilts her head, contemplative. "I suppose she is beautiful," she adds, almost thoughtfully, and then reaches out her fingers. Tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. "And graceful."

All you can picture are those gorgeous, creamy thighs marked up by nails like razors: bruises shaped like fingertips, angry scratches that would leave scars if pushed hard enough. Things for her to return to.

You swallow. You blink.

"She's very lovely," you say, careful, careful.

"Listen." The girl leans away, sweeps her red hair back over her shoulder, fixes you with her heavy-lidded eyes again. "We don't have to pretend we're in love or anything." Her voice is velvet, husky; the words catch at your eardrum and melt there, dripping down the bones of your skull like liquid seduction. "She's busy, clearly. So, I'm looking for a little company tonight, and I think I've found it."

"And your girlfriend?"

"Can't make it." She smiles, wolfish. "Which, if you don't mind me saying, is very lucky for you."

"Girlfriend, who you fuck into the mattress," you clarify. "She'd have no problem sharing?"

"With a pretty thing like you?" Her eyelashes flutter - the way they sweep low makes shadows across her cheeks, delicate. "No chance she'd object."

Your mouth twists to the side. "What's the catch?"

"No catch," she purrs. "Just: I'm going to go to the bathroom, and I think you could follow me there in five minutes, tops. Sound like a plan, handsome?"

Oh.

Okay. You think vaguely that Xinyu's probably got a hand in this, somehow. Doing this on purpose, leaving you here to fend for yourself - and it's a very Xinyu kind of move, really: setting you up with some stranger, letting her proposition you, and waiting for it to escalate past the point of return. Sending you right up to a pretty pair of vices, telling you to chew them down to size. Maybe if you do good - you already know how she wants you to perform - you'll get an actual reward later. Another girl for you to fuck, or maybe Xinyu herself. Or both. Your brain is spinning in circles. You really, really can't think straight with her breathing right onto your pulse.

"What, you've got something better to do than fuck two girls tonight? The girl seems to weigh something out in her mind; watches you through a side-long glance. "You really can't drop everything to play around for a little bit?"

So maybe it's not Xinyu's handiwork - this is a little too far-fetched, even for her - but you can't lie. When she goes ahead, drags her fingers on your shoulder as she glides by and doesn't bother looking back, the way your cock throbs makes it easy to decide that it doesn't matter.

-

You get lost a bit on the logistics. (That'll actually be a recurring theme.)

There's a pair of single-occupancy toilets in the back of the bar, ostensibly family washrooms; for mothers with children, wheelchairs, sloppy bathroom sex with god-blessedly gorgeous strangers, that sort of thing - but they're occupied. Both the handles spun up; red tags flipped up to indicate engagement, a motif, and symbolism in spades. Something heavy-handed and easily ignored.

"Maybe I should just get on my knees right here," she suggests eventually - like a joke, but she'd do it. You're pretty sure.

"Absolutely not," you counter, only a little bit scandalized. She grins and presses a palm flat to your abdomen.

"Just problem-solving." She's totally blasé. "Critical thinking."

"Careful with that," you warn her, sorta unreasonably given where your fingers are on the cut of her hips.

She pretends to think about it, fingers tapping thoughtfully on her lip, a comical exaggeration, and you just roll your eyes. You think about getting her name, maybe a number - you could just leave it at that, save her contact info under tall, great ass, (fuckable) lips and pray to hell it never comes up as recommended when someone else texts you.

Yeah, right. It's better to just bury yourself in this until it all dissolves - stick to the immediacy of it. Get your mouth on every part of her body and lick her clean, and then be gone before the sun rises. Right?

She pulls you down by your neck and slots your lips together again, slow, agonizing, her lips slipping over yours like they're made to be there. She kisses like it's an art form - something you can perfect, practice - and her tongue darts along the seam of your mouth like she wants to coax you open. There's the bite of cherry lipstick, sweet and candied; her fingertips into your belt loops, then yanks you toward her with her nose scrunched and a wicked smile.

"I can't believe you'd let me fuck you with your back against the wall like this." Her hips bump forward into yours - she's playing at bashful, coy and innocent. She's failing miserably. "What if someone sees?"

"I think you'd like that," you answer.

"Mmm," she agrees. She's tipping her head back, sliding her tongue across her upper lip, baring her neck to you. Her eyes flick back up, dragging like a blade. "Letting someone walk by, seeing you pushing into me, knowing I was about to make you lose control...yeah. Sounds hot, honestly."

"Shut up," you murmur, leaning closer.

"Make me," she kisses back, eyes flashing; oh, if you didn't feel it before, this is definitely how you know you'll see her again: you recognize the power in her stance, the firecracker-red blaze in her glare - it's like looking in a mirror, that domineering aggression. It's the promise of a rivalry; something you'll want to tame.

A wayward thought lingers: oh, hell - your mind is rapid on the recall, an endless, eager, addicting memory loop - how she kisses, too. The silky sweetness, the enthusiasm - the way her hands bury in your shirt and her pitched, muffled sounds of appreciation spill right into your throat. How she's such an obscene daydream, and the filthy, filthy things she tells you with her hands in your hair - the shock of that, her bold, pretty mouth telling you what she's fantasizing about right now and the fact that those fantasies line up with yours in nearly every sense. Her very presence is a contradiction, her mismatched gestures: tender kisses and wandering hands; how, for every inch given, she'll take five more.

You get your fingers under her skirt, pull her legs up to your waist; she wraps her palm over your cock; smiles against your lips, almost smitten but too arrogant for it: a villainous grin. You hitch one of her thighs over your hip, her panties damp against your slacks. Oh, how good she is - how perfect the feeling, how beautifully her teeth sink into the soft underside of your lower lip like you belong to her: a piece of property.

"That's it, sweetheart," you groan, kissing the apple of her cheek, letting the blush seep right under your tongue. Your hand hovers near her inner thigh. "God, you're so fucking sexy."

"Touch me," she hisses into the skin of your cheek.

"So demanding," you hum.

"Oh, shut the fuck up," she moans, arching into your chest - but her eyelashes flutter as your thumb ghosts across the fabric of her underwear, teasing. "Ah-ha..."

You'll justify it later, somehow: a cheat night, maybe - Xinyu's so used to getting other girls all to herself, you should have a few all to your own - and this one doesn't count as one, really; she belongs to someone else anyway, the raven-haired girl with the siren voice, long legs in silk stockings and pearls across her neck and high-heeled boots clicking across the pavement. And Kazuha doesn't even have to know: she's busy, probably; off with another guy or two or three. No reason to tell her what happens - you certainly won't complain. One orgasm and the redhead will be out of your hair.

There's a side door, some stairs. Nobody stops to ask who you are or where you're going, or even so much as bat an eye as you spill out into the alley - where people go to smoke or fight or vomit; she kisses you outside in the cold air, sliding her hands into your pockets and pushing up to the tips of her toes. There's a smile on her face like you're her best idea ever. It's cold out; she doesn't appear to care.

"God, I'm wet," she breathes, and you don't have to believe her.

"I bet I can help with that." Your jacket slides across your shoulders, off onto the concrete. You're leading her around a corner and against a brick wall. It's dark here. Dark enough for mistakes. Dark enough that you can press her spine to the bricks, slide your hands to her sides and lift her up, taste the lipstick across her jawline-

"Oh my god," comes a voice - softer, sweeter, a total siren lilt. "Please, fuck, that feels so-"

Both your heads swivel.

One streetlight illuminates Kazuha with her back pressed to the bricks and her hand curled tightly in all this black hair, panting, pleading: a perfect fucking masterpiece. She's got her eyes screwed shut, her lips parted; she's absolutely lost.

"Huh," says the redhead, dispassionate - and her fingers curl loosely over your forearm, drumming rhythmically. "Looks like she got distracted after all."

The hand between her legs is fucking her up and doing it fast, snapping sharp wrist motions accompanied by these rhythmic, throaty gasps from Kazuha as she holds onto the edge of a dumpster lid, clawing at metal. There's a muffled string of curses as the woman crouches, leaning forward - shoving her tongue inside. "Fu-uck," Kazuha manages, two distinct syllables - and her grip tightens around her waist, her spine. You catch the light shining off her gold earrings like a flash-warning, and you fall short of a breath.

“Xinyu?” you sputter. “What’re you-”

Xinyu extracts her hand from Kazuha’s cunt, licks her fingers clean and turns to you, not at all guilty - but she isn’t sorry, either. You blink hard.

“Oh, hey,” says Xinyu, cheery as anything. She brushes off her dress. “Didn’t think I’d find you here.”

“Neither did we,” you choke, dry-mouthed. “Are you…”

“We’re making use of some downtime,” offers Kazuha, smoothing down her hair, wiping off her smudged lipstick. The makeup is so precise that it doesn’t look smudged at all - or maybe that’s just how used she is to covering it up. “Is there a problem?”

“No, none-” Your mouth snaps shut as Xinyu meets your stare and gives you an impish little shrug, biting back a smile. She saunters over to where you stand, keeping a respectable distance.

“Look at this, babe," Xinyu says. She gestures to the girl you were making out two seconds ago, casual. "I found him first. Isn’t he handsome?”

“You’ve got weird taste,” replies the redhead, not unkindly, tilting her head back against the wall and exposing all that gorgeous skin. You can see her chest rise and fall in ragged breaths. Xinyu walks a hand up your torso, palms your collarbone with a suggestive smile - it's a little possessive, but then again, you realize you’ve forgotten to let go of the other girl's hand.

“You would be into him,” retorts Kazuha. She laughs softly. “Hi, Jen,” she adds, almost as an afterthought.

“Hey,” Yunjin says, wiggling her fingers, lazy. “Loved the performance."

"Shut the fuck up," snipes Kazuha, rolling her eyes, but she's flushed, halfway to an orgasm that's not gonna happen because everyone is apparently choosing now to puzzle this one out. "Could see you flirting with him the entire time, idiot."

"He's super fucking hot," says Yunjin. "Oh, speaking of which-" She tugs you closer by your wrist - you're stuck, standing still, trapped between three gorgeous women ready to argue over who saw who first.

“Wait,” you manage, breaking free. Yunjin huffs. Xinyu frowns, blinking. Kazuha leans back against the wall.

“We didn’t plan this or anything,” explains Kazuha. “Xinyu just likes what she sees sometimes.” There’s a practised ease in the way she says this - like this has all been rehearsed before between the two of them. "Or, well-" Kazuha lifts a shoulder, delicate, polished. "A lot of the time, I guess."

"Yeah," Xinyu says, not defensive. "So?"

"Well," you say, after a long moment - your mind working furiously to process, reconcile, synthesize - this scene where you're being pulled in six directions at once, trying to put this story together before any more pages flip.

"That's your girlfriend," you say to Yunjin, finally - and point a finger towards Kazuha.

"And yours," says Kazuha, one hand on Xinyu's hip. “Hi,” she adds.

"Yep," says Xinyu. "How about that."

She steps up close to you and bats those dark lashes. Behind her, Kazuha’s gaze catches your glance; it takes you a solid ten seconds to realize she’s trying to place where she’s seen you before - it clicks for her all at once, though it's a lot quicker for you - and then it all slots neatly into place, every cog and screw lining up in an easy motion.

“So.” Yunjin chews idly at the pad of her thumb. "What, you guys met once at the mall or something?"

"Yeah," you reply, realizing exactly how you and yours have come to fall for two of the same type. "We met at the mall."

If you'd like to imagine that this goes smoothly after that - it doesn't. Not really. It's more accurate to say that Yunjin looks at you, your blank stare, the panic - and the three girls just dissolve into laughter, giddy and conspiratorial like they've just pulled off the world's greatest coup.

"C'mon," says Yunjin. She's so good at reading social cues - like, oh, you being totally stunned-silent by the sheer amount of sexual energy suddenly coursing through this alleyway. "You said it yourself," Yunjin reminds you, gesturing at Kazuha, "beautiful, very pretty, nice legs." She brings her lips to your cheek. "You didn't lie about that."

"What?" says Kazuha.

Yunjin just smiles, brushes a lock of red hair behind her ear. "We have taste," she tells Kazuha, confident and poised - and then to you, hushed under her breath, "I'd watch you rail her," she murmurs. Her tongue darts out, pressing wet and warm into the shell of your ear. "Would you like that?"

"That's-" you start. You stop. Xinyu looks over at you, a devious flicker lighting up her eyes - oh, god; if that doesn't spell disaster, nothing does -and the grin she gives you is so downright evil you wonder why you ever dared dream you stood a chance. She looks back over at Kazuha, reaches out a hand to clasp gently at that impossible waist, pulling her in close.

"Sweetheart," Xinyu drawls, tracing a thumb over her jawline. "Doll," she continues, letting the nickname linger. She leans up, pecks a kiss against Kazuha's mouth - but her eyes don't leave yours for a second. She bites down gently on Kazuha's lower lip, tugging lightly at the skin before letting it snap back.

"You know I wouldn't ever get jealous over sharing something with you," Xinyu murmurs. She says it like a proclamation; something binding, solemn - a pact signed in ink, wax-sealed and pressed into the skin of Kazuha's collarbone. They're practically the same height. It makes your throat run dry. "You get me," she says.

Yunjin laughs, but not meanly. "It's cute how you pretend you aren't selfish," she says to Xinyu, rolling her eyes. Her lips curve upwards. "Tell me something I don't know." And then - you feel her fingertips trail delicately over your waistband, slipping her thumb below the hem of your jeans. "Hey, Kazuha?"

Kazuha drags her focus off Xinyu with visible effort, snapping back into the conversation.

"Wanna ride his face?"

Xinyu is grinning like a lunatic, gorgeous and predatory.

Kazuha gathers her hair off her neck. “He seems like the type who would want to eat pussy for hours."

"I wouldn't complain," you croak out - and Yunjin laughs. It’s genuine, unpracticed, the sort of thing that shakes her shoulders; it fills you up.

"Why don't you sit back down against that wall," she tells you, nudging at your ribs. Her touch feels electric. "Relax."

Oh. She says it like an order, and you realize that she knows full well what it'll do to you. She's still smiling, though it's sharper now, sharper, hungrier - like the glint of fangs that'll tear you apart. It's really no wonder you ended up exactly where she wanted you - but then you realize Kazuha's looking at you, and you realize that you're not entirely sure whose team you're on or if there even are any teams here. It's not like you can complain. The most you can manage is a grunt of acknowledgement, sitting down slowly, trying not to trip over your own feet and ruin everything.

"Good boy," Yunjin quips, quiet enough to feel private, intimate. You blink up at her, still holding her hand in your lap as you sit down, staring like she holds the key to all seven wonders of the world in her palm. "Kazuha," Yunjin calls over her shoulder, patting your arm. "Get over here. Come meet my new friend."

And that's sorta how you wind up in some kind of...what-the-fuck situation? Some otherworldly thing you shouldn't even hope to explain - some alternate dimension shit with two beautiful women pressing you back against some dirty-ass brick wall in the alley behind your usual haunt, a third one laughing hysterically at all four of you. You feel like the dumbest motherfucker alive, especially when Xinyu whispers something in Yunjin's ear, and it earns a resounding laugh, but mostly just because your girlfriend's hands are everywhere and Yunjin's sitting back and watching like it's prime-time television.

That - and also because Kazuha's decided she needs your face buried in her cunt ASAP, and frankly, you can't even muster up the energy to disagree.

-

First things first: the bar is packed - oh, wait, no: it's always packed. But especially so on the nights where you're trying to navigate this stupid situation, you got yourself into where three fucking goddesses have you on rotation, like clockwork. 

You're collecting coats and closing tabs, doing your absolute best not to bring any more attention to how Kazuha's wobbling on both legs because she can't quite walk straight anymore.

Yunjin - your current distraction, clad in the most perfect shade of red lipstick, clinging onto your favourite girl like a lifeline - keeps leaning over to Xinyu, whispering frantically in her ear, and it's like the more they talk, the more amused Xinyu gets.

"I told Yunjin your apartment's the closest," Xinyu says to you, eventually, a small smirk forming on her face. "Think she wants you alone for a while. Sounds like she thinks you could really, uh-" She nods toward you, gesturing pointedly towards your belt. "Blow her back out, is how she phrased it."

Oh. Well, then. Yeah, no, you'd be perfectly okay with that.

When you glance back over at the rest of your - you don't have a word for it - entourage, all three pairs of eyes are locked on you, expectant and eager. Jesus fucking Christ. You make brief eye contact with Yunjin; her smile grows impossibly wider. This was meant to be a casual night, wasn't it? A nice outing at the lounge bar where you down drinks and enjoy the scenery - that was how it started, right? Then Yunjin had shown up, demanding all your attention like you owed it to her just for existing (and honestly? You kinda do). It'd been an excuse to look at Kazuha's tits, and then another to press your mouth all over Xinyu's - but the way your girlfriend's looking at you makes it abundantly clear that that ship's already sailed. 

Kazuha raises a water bottle to her lips, looking cool and confident as ever (oh, you know better).

"Didn't mean to invite everyone over, but." Xinyu preens, adjusting the hem of her skirt and checking for signs of wear. She knows exactly what she's saying, exactly what you're thinking - there's an intentness to her words. "You wouldn't mind, right, baby?"

"Yeah, sure," you agree, glancing up at all of them with a nod. You've never moved faster in your life; your coat's over your arm, keys in your pocket, the whole ensemble. They're watching you, waiting patiently. Xinyu raises an eyebrow. "Lead the way?"

She beams. She turns, slips her purse strap over her shoulder. "Alright," she chirps - and the four of you take off into the night.

-

It's funny, you think: Xinyu's also had a weak spot for Kazuha, probably since the first time she saw her perform. (That's the part that sticks out in your brain.) But then again, maybe Kazuha knew about Xinyu too; they seem pretty damn cosy for this being their first interaction with each other, though you suppose you can't judge - you were practically aching for Yunjin within an hour of meeting her, weren't you?

But whatever. Your cock is in Yunjin's hand, and your mind is very much not present right now. That's the important thing.

By the time you finally unlocked your front door, all four of you stumbling in - everyone tipsy, aroused, dying to get their hands on someone's skin - Yunjin immediately glued herself to you, pushing your coat off your shoulders. She'd gotten your zipper undone in record time. It's not the first time, obviously: she's got this ghost of a grip around your cock already, a knowing stroke, this way of handling your arousal that feels almost proprietary in its control.

There's an island in the kitchen; you're washed up on its shore. Fingers spread across the marble sand as the edge presses against your lower back. "Drinks are in the—"

"You can skip the fanfare." Yunjin is stroking you, her other hand at the nape of your neck to pull you down, kiss her; your mouth meets hers, hot, messy, too hard. Pick up where you left off sort of thing. Some unheard conversation must have planned this, on the street or in the hallway or the elevator—they'd figured out some secret plot, who got what, how they would split up, and it starts here.

It's in your periphery that you see them cross, hand in hand, watching you come undone by the vixen in red. Xinyu is taking the lead, and you can see her mind working overtime to figure out what would drive you the most insane right now. She stops at the couch, centre-view, perching herself on the back of it to pull the other girl against her. Kazuha giggles in the high pitch, something that sounds too sweet to come from someone whose job it is to get men going—and maybe she does that on purpose: the look over her shoulder accompanies a feigned innocence.

Xinyu looks past her, gaze falling over Yunjin first: red dress, blood red lips, hair like a hearth-fire, and the hand moving on your cock in your unbuckled jeans. "A head start? How unfair." She rolls her eyes with all the mocking derision she can muster, but her smirk betrays her. She's pushing Kazuha by the shoulder, putting the dancer down on her knees. Even in the most compromising position possible, she looks immaculate: she sinks, legs together, ass perched on her heels. There's not a strand of hair out of place, and even in her lust, Xinyu strives to maintain the fact, so she takes care in the way she pulls Kazuha between her thighs. A gentle, fingertip hold, as she spreads her knees to frame her.

You watch with rapt attention; you can hardly look away. The whole thing is artfully posed.

Yunjin says your name, the first word you've heard from her, and you've only missed it a little. Your gaze moves to her. You expect another comment, snide, but her mouth parts, like the words have been stolen right out of it.

"You good?" You're trying to be a gentleman, if not an asshole—and it works, too; it spurs her back. She bites the corner of her lip and hums.

"Yeah, you know." A half-shrug accompanies her words as she lets you slide a strap from her shoulder. "Still waiting for you to blow my back out."

Oh. You laugh, hoarse. Yeah, that's—that's on the agenda, for sure.

It's just—the show, right across from you, has started.

Kazuha, in her performance, has Xinyu's skirt pushed up around her waist, face against her thigh, breath hot on her skin, fingers splayed over her knee to press her legs even wider. The most natural seduction; the effortless allure that laces every part of her. Her lips against skin are soft and pink, moving against the curve of the muscle, mouthing up higher. You know how that feels—travelling the vast expanse of Xinyu's long legs in search of something to bury your face in.

"She's in for a treat," Yunjin whispers.

"So am I," you return, placing a hand on Yunjin's now strapless shoulder and putting just enough weight into your hand that she knows she's going down.

"Can't promise I won't bite," she warns, in the tone that makes your throat dry, in the way you think she just might. But you've also had the image of Yunjin's head bobbing in your lap the whole cab ride home.

If there's a heaven, you'll find it in a mouth like this one: soft-lipped, warm and wet, tongue on you. You reach for the back of her neck, feel the silk of her hair under your palm as she sucks hard enough to make your hips jerk. Then there's the gentlest of grazes��her teeth on your shaft, and it makes your jaw tighten. She's all smirk and smoulder, eyes coming up to see what kind of face she's making you pull.

"Oops," she laughs.

"Fuck," Xinyu gasps, the loudest sound in the room. There's the slightest shift of Kazuha's shoulders, the way her back bows when her tongue drags from slit to clit; nose pushed up tight.

Xinyu, still leaning over the back of the couch, turns her gaze toward you, then, heavy, desperate, and dark: an intensity that hits right in the base of your stomach and twists like a dull knife.

Xinyu trades pleasured gasps for a coy remark. "Look at her go. Eats pussy like she'll starve to death without it." It's like she needs to comment on it, all casual, as if there weren't someone between her legs, making her thighs tense.

Yunjin pulls back just long enough to say, "Tell me about it." Then she goes deep enough that you see your cock hit the back of her throat. No warning. You cough out an obscenity. It's good, and it's better because of what you're looking at.

"Yeah?" Xinyu says. "Be pretty easy to cum like this, you know?" The implication hangs in the air, unaddressed.

Just like Yunjin before you, you agree. "Tell me about it."

Your girl, on the couch, her body twists again. Kazuha is making her work to keep the upper hand in all this, if there's such a thing, and she has to put conscious effort into keeping her words steady. Her focus is on you, on your face, on how your mouth opens every time Yunjin sinks her mouth to the hilt.

"Do you wanna cum like this?" Yunjin says to the underside of your dick, her hot breath against your length.

You look to Xinyu for a final answer: her head's back and her chin tilted high in a groan that fills the room, an arcing note in a rising song that starts between her thighs. Her hands grip the cushions.

"She's close," You say off-handedly. An easy observation. It doesn't answer her question.

"Could finish you so easily," Yunjin hums. You feel her words against the crown. She swirls her tongue, and you clench your fists.

"Faster than Kazuha?"

"Much faster." Yunjin grins like she's just thrown down a challenge. And you get why it works: competitive to a fault.

"No chance," Xinyu manages. There's sweat on the skin that shimmers with highlight, her chest heaving with every laboured breath, "absolutely—" Kazuha presses forward, and the rest comes out a curse. She grits out the words. "Impossible."

"Bet?" says Yunjin, her nails dug deep enough into your skin that it leaves little crescent moons.

Xinyu's head lifts. There's a smile on her face that's just shy of wicked, "I'd say winner takes all."

There are very few bets that Xinyu won't take and fewer stakes that she won't gamble with, but she's got confidence in Kazuha's ability, and time is a-ticking. Even with how wound up Yunjin's got you, watching them, it's still an even race at this point. Kazuha has a lot to prove: this is a test to see if her pretty lips and clever tongue can get her girl to the finish line faster than anyone else.

And, oh—she can taste it, can't she: Xinyu dripping wetness to her chin, her folds spread and cunt eager. The dancer's a performer of many skills: her fingers slide inside, her mouth locked in place and sucking hard until Xinyu is fucking her mouth with the back and forth of her hips. In a moment of indulgence, she presses Kazuha's face deeper, harder. It's rougher, meaner: she pushes her up tight enough that her air might just get cut off, if it weren't for the moans that slip from the singer's mouth. "God—" You think she says, and then nothing but sharp inhale and the jolt of her hips that has Kazuha's nails in the flesh of her inner thighs.

Yunjin's picking up the slack on you. Maybe to wipe the smirk from your girlfriend's face, or maybe she just really wants your cum down her throat. That's fine. You're not opposed.

Mouth briefly replaced by hand, strokes hard and tight, so she can talk and please. "Better cum in me soon. You'll lose." She winks. She's not wrong, and she sucks in her next breath like she knows it. That mouth on you again.

Let's be real. Let's not get it twisted. You win. You always win.

Xinyu will cum first. It's one of those facts in life. Death, taxes and Xinyu's climaxes.

It starts in her chest—a hitch that becomes a heavy rise and fall, a moan from deep in her throat. Her body follows it: every limb taut like strings in a bow. Tension: her head back to the sky and the arch in her back like a crescent. Her legs start to shake. It's there that you feel your blood thrumming, the adrenaline that starts that climb before your fall, and Yunjin takes her cue to speed things up on her end as Xinyu tumbles over on hers. Her thighs tense, tight, trembling.

"Oh—oh fuck—Kazuha." Xinyu moaning another woman's name always has a certain kind of kick to it, even more so with you down Yunjin's throat. She's never shy about this. Never timid. Always, unabashedly, the way it is with you and how she'll scream and cry for it, for the orgasm that wracks her like an electric current.

Kazuha has no interest in easing her down: the pads of her fingertips work her open, pumping inside, tongue flat to lap against the pulsing heat, riding her through each wave and crest, drawing them longer, higher. Xinyu's shaking with the overstimulation, hands in hair, but not pulling back.

"God. Fuck, Kazuha—" This time, there's the edge of desperation to it, so close to pleading for it to stop.

There's a moment when you lock your eyes. Xinyu looking through the strands of her dark hair that stick to her cheeks, and the sweat that glosses her forehead, the flush on her skin, her lipstick smeared in places. And that smile, her wicked grin in full bloom. Her breath coming in shallow heaving puffs. Kazuha is slowing. Stilling.

You've been teetering close to that razor's edge, the precipice of it, but there was only ever going to be one winner. Yunjin pulls her mouth from you and she has no idea just how close you were, just how cruel the denial, as she stands.

You say her name as a question: why would she ever fucking stop?

Her mouth to your ear, and you feel her smirking again, her teeth against the shell: "You lost," she murmurs.

"You lost," Xinyu echoes from across the room. She pushes Kazuha away, legs still unsteady, as she slides from the couch to her feet and straightens out the fabric of her dress. You watch as Kazuha touches the gloss of her lip and sucks it off her finger. Her smile is soft and warm when she gets to her feet. It's like a stage; everything posed: Xinyu and Kazuha, standing side-by-side and arms entwined.

"Second place," says Xinyu, looking you right in the eyes.

"I get it," you say. Your cock stands at full mast. "You don't need to remind me."

"Oh," she grins, leaning against the dancer, "I absolutely do." Her hand touches Kazuha's chin and lifts, kissing her deep, tongues dancing against one another's. When Xinyu's teeth drag along her bottom lip, you know she must be able to taste herself. "She's real good. Though I do wonder what her girlfriend is like," she whispers as she eyes Yunjin.

Kazuha speaks up. "She can definitely make a girl cum." She speaks with such nonchalance as if she's discussing the weather or what brand her shampoo is and not the way she's had Yunjin eating out of her cunt.

Kazuha is a professional; it's no surprise to hear she knows how to get a girl to see god, and it's no surprise that anyone she lays with has to be on top of their game. Xinyu knows, too. She grins, and she laughs, and she holds her waist like Kazuha's some sort of prize, and it's just so Xinyu, this display. "Lucky us." She touches a hand to the dancer's hip. She says to Yunjin, "We oughta try her out."

"You're going to leave him hanging?" says Yunjin, running a hand down your chest dangerously low before taking it back, a gentle press of lips on your jaw. "That's not very fair."

"He can help you out, right?" Xinyu offers, gesturing in your direction with one of those looks in her eyes. You know that one. "Make us cum." And her hand slips to the swell of Kazuha's breast, groping greedily. It's a demand that comes out as a suggestion.

Kazuha whispers something inaudible to Xinyu's ears and it must've been good because the woman hums, intrigued, the smile on her mouth turning wider and more mischievous by the second. They both take a step, both reach out, Kazuha takes your wrist and Xinyu takes Yunjin's. Wordlessly, they take you away from the kitchen and to the window: the massive wall of windows that line your apartment with the city behind.

"I want the world to see," Kazuha explains. "To wish they were you."

"Sounds a little cheesy," you quip.

"Sounds hot," Xinyu retorts as she places her hands on the glass. She bends forward so that the swell of her ass pushes out against the hem of her skirt, and against Yunjin, who is standing right behind her. "Don't you think, babe?" she teases Yunjin.

"Very," Yunjin says. She moves her fingers along the seams of Xinyu's body, finding their way underneath her top. You hear Xinyu breathe out through her mouth. Yunjin moves closer to Xinyu's ear and bites it. "But the only ones that'll actually get to touch you, to taste you... that'll be us, huh?" She moves her fingers along the waistband of her skirt.

Xinyu turns her head back at her, smiling. "They'll be able to see how well I can take it, too. You'll let them see, won't you?"

Kazuha perches in front of you, spreading her fingers out against the glass, lowering her shoulders, arching her spine and lifting her ass to the sky for your taking. In an instant, you're on your knees and appreciating her for everything she's worth. "You don't need to be a gentleman. Just go for it. You already had the courtesy earlier," she tells you as you move closer.

"Can't I take a moment to appreciate you first?" you reply.

"Do you have to?" Her laugh is half a moan, and she's pulling up her own dress. "Are you so infatuated by the sight of me? Because, believe me—" and her words are cut off as you sink your teeth into her cheeks, your fingertips pressing tight into the skin at her hip— "you've seen more than most get to."

You run a hand up the expanse of her thigh. "Savouring every moment," you hum into her skin.

"How romantic," she laughs. There are the smallest noises in the back of her throat that come with your touch as you caress her ass. Fingers into flesh, gentle pressure until you feel her roll against it. The perfect ass. The kind people would kill for.

You hear Xinyu gasp, the sharp breath: Yunjin's got her face pressed hard between Xinyu's spread thighs from behind. "Y'know—" your girl manages between moaning pants, "wasn't sure what to expect. This isn't how we usually do things." She's trying to hold the conversation together while Yunjin works to make a ruin of it. Xinyu braces herself against the glass. "Two girls at once is a pretty good score."

"I'd call it that," you hum in agreement as you pull Kazuha's delicate panties down her thighs.

"The two of you do this often?" Yunjin asks between licking Xinyu's dripping cunt and then slapping an ass cheek hard, enough to sting. It leaves an angry pink imprint on the flesh of her. Xinyu hisses, her fingers curling against the glass as she struggles to hold herself steady. Kazuha arches her spine to give you better access.

"See them all the time," Kazuha gently laughs, the breathiest moan breaking her sentence up, and she rocks herself back against you. "Taking someone home before my show even ends."

Xinyu's eyes open, and her vision is clear. She looks over her shoulder. Her hips are slow, riding the tongue that pushes deeper inside. Her voice is steady, and she's trying hard not to let Yunjin catch her completely, though the pressure on the glass betrays her. "Been keeping an eye on us, hm?"

You're dragging your tongue against Kazuha, circling around the wetness between her legs. You taste the sweet musk of her, and then you drag the flat of your tongue along the folds. She hums with a laugh that sounds a little breathier, more strained. Your tongue moves deeper, dipping into the parting of flesh, to taste the soft, velvet feel of her, the slick heat that comes with her arousal.

"You're not exactly subtle. Hard not to notice."

You push a little firmer, face into her ass, tasting the deepest parts of her and as she shifts on her knees, she lowers a hand to your hair and grabs a handful of it, keeping you where she needs you, fingers curled around the strands and the sting that follows. You hear the noise she makes, the way she shivers under your attention. It feels good.

"We have a fan," Xinyu jokes, but her laughter is cut off by a moan as Yunjin sucks harder on the soft folds between her legs. "Maybe two." There's the sound of skin hitting skin, and then a gasp. You know the sounds of Xinyu when her skin is slapped, or her flesh is bit.

Yunjin's hands roam her body freely. They're everywhere: touching, teasing. Her nails scratch and drag, and Xinyu groans when teeth meet her inner thigh again.

Kazuha is dripping against your chin now. Every lick sends another jolt up her spine, and every circle against her sensitive clit has her moaning. You squeeze her ass. She rocks forward. "Mhm..." Her lips part, and her jaw goes slack.

"What a pretty fucking mess," you hum against the wetness.

Xinyu takes Kazuha by the chin, pulling her into a kiss, and there's no way for anyone else to appreciate how beautiful they look against each other. Xinyu runs a hand up into Kazuha's hair, and her hips are still grinding, still pushing down onto Yunjin's mouth. "I'm gonna cum if she doesn't stop."

"Cum with me?" Kazuha says. It sounds desperate, almost needy in its demand: an urgency to share this. To do it together.

It doesn't sound like a bad idea at all.

"Not stopping," is the last thing Yunjin says as she continues to feast. You think she might have a point to prove, but if that means she wants to eat a pussy that good, then so be it. Your mouth works Kazuha faster: you spread the folds with your fingers and go to work on her clit. Your teeth catch the sensitive flesh, and she shakes with it, thighs threatening to tremble and tense, a strangled cry falling from her lips that she smothers by moaning it right into Xinyu's lips.

The taste of Kazuha on your tongue is something you'll never get tired of. Her sweet juice spills over, and when she arches, she cums harder, cries out louder until finally, her knees start to shake. That's how it starts, and with her orgasm comes Xinyu's too. There's a moment when the two are tangled together, when the sounds that fall out of them echo each other's. Their voices meet, their moans mix, and their tongues clash in their kiss, like they can't bear to keep any distance from one another. It's intimate, even amidst the other mouths on them. Even as Yunjin and you coax them through it. When it passes, the two cling onto each other, holding each other up, both of them trembling with the aftermath of a shared bliss.

Kazuha falls first: with a slow slump she sinks down to the floor, falling away from your hungry mouth and onto her hands and knees on the hardwood. She pants, heavy breaths, her head bowed, her hair in her eyes. There's a contented hum to the room as it all begins to settle down. Kazuha turns to you: there's that gorgeous smile, as she pushes back hair from her face. Her makeup is smudged. Her lipstick's a mess.

Xinyu follows after, but not without first stroking Yunjin's hair and kissing her, thanking her. Xinyu falls into Kazuha's embrace, the two of them holding each other up on the floor. Their heads are on one another's shoulders.

You lose your balance to a hard push. Your ass hitting the ground hard, sitting flat on the hardwood.

"Your turn." Yunjin grins, a hand pushing at the centre of your chest, keeping you from rising.

"You're going to do that right here?"

She grins at you. "Right now."

From here on out, it's just an inevitable, sordid decline into depravity. There is no message here, no moral, no meaning beyond the mindless, the reckless. There's nothing profound about the way Yunjin slips the other strap off her shoulder and pulls the material down to her waist to expose her braless chest. There's no wisdom in the way she moves into your lap, arms hooked over your shoulders.

No revelations come from how her bare pussy slides against the head of your cock. No matters of the world solved by the way you grope her tits in your palms. Nothing poetic about the sound that slips between her pretty red lips when you enter her cunt. This is just the way things are. This is barely a footnote on the night, not an epic climax. It's not a resolution or a denouement. Just another impending orgasm. You're just lucky you're at the centre of it all.

"Give us a show, won't you?" Xinyu murmurs.

Yunjin's got a smile on her lips that says, sure, sure, I can do that. She puts her hands on your chest, pinning you against the ground, her hips lifting and rolling as she slides you in and out of herself. "You think we should thank them? The people in the toilets?"

"Why's that?"

"Well, we'd have gone in there." Yunjin pushes her hips down hard onto you to punctuate her sentence. "We'd have fucked." She's taking control here: riding you in the centre of the hardwood floor. "You'd have cum." Another roll of the hips. "In me. On me." She gasps, moans. "That would have been that." It's all being said so nonchalantly. "But now, it's like this."

You laugh a little as you watch the woman ride you for all you're worth. "It's fitting," you say as you push yourself up from the floor, sitting face-to-face with the woman riding you. "Because you deserve so much more than a quickie on a dirty toilet." You wrap an arm around the small of her back. "And I'd much rather take my time with you." You buck your hips up into her, commandeering the rhythm as your pace starts to climb. You drive into her, pounding hard, as you bury your face between her breasts.

There are the smallest of noises that break free from Yunjin: the whines that get trapped behind her throat and the moans that slip between her teeth. She lets you handle her, and the only sound she makes is that soft whimpering and that sharp hiss when your fingers grip tight at her skin, and when her body slams down against your cock, you feel her tense and then shake around your shaft, squeezing and clamping down hard. She stifles her sounds.

"You good?" you whisper. She doesn't answer. At least, not at first. She gives herself a moment to catch her breath, as her nails drag across your shoulder blade.

She moans out a reply. "Oh yeah. So good. I'm so—" her words trail into a hiss of a breath.

You push her onto her back, pinning her to the ground as she laughs, arms above her head and eyes on yours, as you pick the pace back up again. "Show's still on," Xinyu says, somewhere on your peripheries.

"He fucks like a..." Kazuha whispers, unable to find the right words.

"I know," Xinyu laughs, before leaning in to kiss at Kazuha's jaw. "Doesn't he just?" The words are barely a whisper in her ear.

There's this shift in your periphery, Xinyu taking a place on the floor, her hand behind Kazuha's head as she spreads her legs again. It's rare you've found anyone who can keep up with Xinyu, but tonight's proven to be the exception. Kazuha's on all fours, leaning in for another taste. The sight has you groan.

Yunjin laughs at that, pulling your face back to hers, her legs wrapping around your hips, locking behind your back as she pulls you into her. "Don't get distracted now, honey," she says. Her fingertips trace along the muscles in your shoulders. Her lips curl up into a smile as her body shivers underneath yours, and you can feel it: that sweet clamping down of her pussy around your cock, and you know that she's close to coming again.

"Got an idea," you whisper.

"Wait, wait—" Yunjin claws at your back, holding you closer, tighter. "Just let me—" and you feel it. Her wet heat coating your length, pulsing. You roll her into it, feel the slick mess as her hips twist against the hardwood. She shakes, head thrown back, eyes fluttering shut, and lips parted. "There we go. Now, idea?"

"Come here." It's seamless, the way you move her around and behind Kazuha, positioning her face right against her girlfriend's ass. "Doesn't that look so good?"

"Beautiful," she says.

"Bet you eat that ass every chance you get, I know I would."

"Me too," Xinyu chimes.

"Yeah?" Yunjin says as she traces her hands along Kazuha's hips and curves, the lines that make her. She touches her thighs, and then she moves her fingertips to the cheeks of her ass. "Well." A kiss on the flesh of it. "You know. She does have such a pretty ass," she whispers.

"You both do," you reply as you mimic Yunjin's touches on her own ass.

She smiles into the skin, pressing more soft kisses along it. Her fingernails dig in gently as her mouth presses a little harder against it. Yunjin drags her nails over it, making marks. Yunjin moans softly, burying her mouth deeper between the cheeks. Kazuha arches with a moan of her own, rocking back. Yunjin sinks deeper, eating her girlfriend's ass like it was the last meal she'd have for days. The sounds are wet and hungry. Her moans are muffled as her mouth does its work. "God..." Yunjin groans into the flesh. Her hands roam up to Kazuha's sides, and she digs her fingers in and holds her, rocking the woman's hips against her face. It's like she can't get enough, and the taste must be so fucking intoxicating.

You're back inside Yunjin, the end of the train. She shivers again, moans again. Her nails drag up the small of Kazuha's back, marking the line of her spine with the gentle red trails. Her teeth scrape against Kazuha's skin, and she presses the pad of her tongue between her asscheeks again.

Yunjin's dress is still bunched at the waist, you bunch it and then hold it firm: it pulls tight across her toned stomach and gives you a handle, a grip to hold. You thrust into her, hard. She groans into Kazuha, and in turn, Kazuha gasps into Xinyu.

You hear Xinyu moaning, a note that arcs and echoes and then tapers off again. Kazuha is humming, soft and quiet, and Yunjin groans deeply. When the three of you all start to sync up, to fall into one steady beat, it feels right. It's everything falling together. Waves on the sand.

Xinyu is gasping; her head is back, and her throat is exposed, and her body is writhing with pleasure. She has her fingers buried in Kazuha's hair, clutching at it desperately, as she rocks back onto her tongue, onto her mouth, her hips bucking erratically. You're fucking Yunjin in slow and deep thrusts that have her moaning and shuddering, her fingers gripping hard into the dancer's thighs, and she's eating that ass with hunger, her own body responding to each motion of your hips in a ripple of a wave that runs up her spine, one after the next after the next.

This was never meant to last. There is no way.

You're on edge. Xinyu's on the precipice, and Kazuha is shaking.

There is no way, you say it again, and that's how your mind feels: unsteady, untethered, and it's in that haze that you slip your free hand to Yunjin's hip and guide it under her, have her press two fingers into the slickness that's so familiar, that she knows so well. You tell her. "Make your girlfriend cum." It's not an order. You've no authority here, in the mess that this has become, but she does, doesn't she: she's the only one who could get someone to sing for the world to see.

It's just seconds after when she slips the digits up inside that the woman is shaking, her back arching, and she's moaning in tandem with the way her hips roll back on you. Yunjin's fingers plunge deeper inside, and Kazuha shivers in delight. And then there's the smallest cry of a sound, and she's spilling wet onto the hand that keeps pushing her down. "You're so beautiful, Kazu," Yunjin murmurs, the words muffled by how she's buried her face between those cheeks, she's so damn close to her own climax. Kazuha is trembling, shaking. She moans out her release into Xinyu's wet cunt.

Thighs clamp hard on Kazuha's head. "Yes—" Xinyu cries out, as her hips rock upwards, bucking on Kazuha's mouth as she rides the orgasm hard, hands at her own breasts, groping greedily as her tongue drags her bottom lip under white, teeth bared: it's like a growl, almost, or a snarl, her eyes open wide, but staring right through everything.

And that's what pushes you over. You grab hard onto Yunjin's hip, the bunched fabric of her dress. Your fingernails drag against her flesh as you rut into her, hips thrusting again and again. She can't help the gasp, the sound, as your nails scrape deep into her thigh. She's so sensitive. The skin so soft and so receptive to touch. That noise turns into a moan. You know the sounds of her now. She doesn't need to tell you. You know. The pace of her breathing changes, and you hear the breathy little whimpers. When she gasps and when her cunt flutters, you can tell that she's close. And you know, when she cums because of the shuddering that runs up her body, the tensing of her muscles and that moaning that starts low and quiet before it grows, and then it explodes out of her in a sudden burst, like fireworks.

Xinyu's curling a finger. A beckon. You have a place to take, kneeling over her, and a finish that she demands.

"You know what to do, don't you?" she teases, a laugh on the tip of her tongue: that sharp and mischievous smirk, and the eyes that gleam in the light.

"I do."

She turns her gaze on the couple on the floor, the girls who've sunk onto one another. You can hear Yunjin laughing. Kazuha's fingers trail over her face, tracing the outline. "Go ahead," Xinyu says to you: not permission but expectation.

She presents her face as if it's a canvas and, yeah, sure, maybe you've done this more times than you can count, but you've still got your hand on your dick and the other on the back of Xinyu's neck, rubbing like it's the first time, and—

There it goes.

"God," Yunjin groans, "that's pretty."

Kazuha's contented hum agrees. They both reach a hand out to run their fingers across the mess of your cum, spreading it across the smooth expanse of skin, painting their art of Xinyu. There are no lines, no patterns, just the abstract swirl and the smearing that follows.

"Should take a photo," Kazuha suggests. "For posterity's sake."

"Too late," Yunjin mutters as she leans in to lick at the slick of white on the woman's cheek.

Soon, they're both at it, cleaning your girlfriend like she was the world's finest delicacy. And she basks in the attention. The centre of it. She's used to that kind of spotlight, though you don't think anyone shines as bright as her.

Yunjin takes a mouthful, opening to show the white on her tongue, and then her lips collide with Xinyu's. The cum is passed, tongue-to-tongue, a kiss shared. They share it with each other, a kiss that is truly sordid. You hear Kazuha's moan of excitement before you even realise what's happening: she joins in, making the kiss a trio. Three mouths passing your cum back and forth and the sound of their soft moans of delight.

It's hard to fathom that this is only the beginning. It's almost as difficult to comprehend just how far it's already gone, and the truth, as you see it, is that it doesn't need to make sense. Some nights are destined for excess. Nights like these. With a trio like this. You're not asking for any answers: all you're asking is that the four of you sink deeper, lose yourself to it.

The girls break the kiss, and Xinyu says, "You know, he has this walk-in shower. The big kind." You can hear the smirk in her tone like she knows just the kind of trouble she'll cause with her words.

"Yeah? I bet we could all fit in it," Kazuha hums, and there's that look of hers again, a little devious but mostly playful: a look of a girl who just wants to please everyone she comes into contact with. She can't seem to get enough, and she's just dying for a taste of more. Her hands slide along both women's waists, pulling them in a tighter embrace. Xinyu looks at you.

"You did always say—"

"I did."

"And, honestly, there's no better—"

"I know," you tell her, climbing to your feet and holding out a hand. "Come on."

[hazelfoureyes]

Have you ever thought about the idea of a Clueless ace reader x ace alastor trying to figure out what all the fuss is about? Couple different ways it could go obviously but I feel like it would be a perfect comedy smut

Thank you for this meal. Okay I know this is LOOSELY based on your prompt, please forgive me. Can I add in that they be a little tipsy?

After a few drinks, you and Alastor do your usual teasing and mimicking of the others dramatic displays of physical affection. But, unusually, Alastor seems to be really invested in the joke tonight…

Warnings/promises: light smut (fingering), wrong kind of haha, sconces, bad Angel accent, Under 1500 words

maybe the tag list? Works list: @ xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx

Alastor list: @celestial-vomit , @amurtan

.

Fuck Joke Around and Find Out

The evening started with drinks among the group gathered at the bar. Everyone talking, sipping, leaning into each other to be heard better. Vaggie’s fingers playing with Charlie’s, Angel inching closer and closer to Husk until he was quite literally on top of him, to Husk’s obvious embarrassment. At some point, Angel took Husker’s hand, the two slinking down the hallway. Soon after, Vaggie not-so-discreetly followed a bouncing Charlie to their top floor home.

After realizing the couples snuck off, you turned to Alastor and asked, already smiling, “Oh I guess it’s our turn?”

Your giggling slipped into mutual cackles, his brows rose and he asked, “Your room or mine?”

You threw your leg over Alastor’s lap and straddled him, mustering your best Angel Dust accent, “Pssst rooms are for squares, baby.”

Normally, especially when having a little to drink, the physical barrier between each other was thin and easily toppled. An unspoken understanding had formed some time ago, allowing you both to relax a little more than usual when in close proximity. He still attempted his touchy intrusions to fluster and bother people, but he knew that didn’t work quite as effectively on you.

“Squares? Oh, not us.” A smirk, his head somewhat dramatically shaking a reinforced ‘no’, making his bobbed hair sway left and right.

When you start a pitifully-motivated grinding against him, losing balance and tipping backward, Alastor’s large hands come to the dip of your hips and still you. A laughed, accent-less, “Thanks, trying to do it like he did,” fell sloppily from your mouth, your hands going to his shoulders for extra security. Your head bent down, stifling another nervous giggle from spilling out. “I think this is exactly how Angel had Husk pinned. Not a convincin’ portrayal, pookie?” Your accent was shit, but he smiled all the same. His ears were pressed down and to the side, resting a little more against his skull than usual, something that seemed to happen often when he had a couple glasses. It looked more relaxed than his normal way of wearing them, but you never asked him about it.

Alastor’s finger tipped your chin upward, pulling you in for a kiss against his grin. When you huffed, fighting the awkward laugh, he swiped his tongue over your lips and slid into your mouth. A hum, as you relaxed into it. What a long joke this is, you think somewhere a little up and to the left of your liquor softened mind.

When alone together, you’d occasionally play around. Just mimicking what ridiculous things the other sinners had done recently, laughing and moving on to general gossip and conversation. Maybe the alcohol was dragging out the bit.

His hands pulled you forward, your little hip movements actually making contact with his crotch now. You hear yourself moan into his mouth before you even realize you’d made the noise.

Thinking becoming a little fuzzy, you pull back from him, “Oops. Sorry. Got carried away.”

“No need to apologize. What’s a little joking around between pals?”

You nod before a surprised shriek is forced out of you, Alastor pulling your hips down and starting to sincerely grind against you.

“I didn’t expect you to remember all the moves, Alastor.” Your hand came to your mouth trying to still the tremble of your lips as you spoke. Other hand now gripping his shoulder to stay upright. You’d never have played around with any one else but him like this. Too much confusion to deal with after. But, Alastor’s “playing” was so convincing. You weren’t minding it, to your surprise, but you weren’t sure you understood the source material as well he did.

His head fell back with a roar, “Being an infrequent lover doesn’t mean I am a bad one.”

Oh. Was the blush on your face noticeable in the dingy light of the parlor? You had never heard him say that word before. His hips were still moving, but the laughing stopped. It wasn’t unpleasant, in fact you found yourself sinking a little more, letting your weight settle fully. It earned you a sloppy half-smile from him. “That would make them experts, compared to us,” You motioned your head in the general direction of the stairs.

“You think so?”, he leaned up to kiss you, you leaned back a little, causing his lips to miss yours. A quick annoyed glare passed over his face before slipping back into a neutral stare, “Are you in the mood for a good joke tonight, dear? I wouldn’t be opposed to making you”, he grazed his nose against yours, “laugh.”

You let him capture your mouth with his, a surprisingly more intense kiss, before pulling away again when you caught another moan rising up, “I don’t mind a good laugh, now and then.” Did you-you say that or Angel-you?

The sofa cushions were pressing into your back before you could process what had happened. Alastor’s body was resting between your legs, which were spread open around him. His lips didn’t leave yours, one of his hands cradling your neck to trap you between him and his hungry mouth. The other was undoing the button of your pants and sliding under the band of your underwear.

His back was arched, his considerable height forcing him to bend over you if he wanted to continue the kiss, which he apparently did. Now on your back, you wiggled under him, awkward and uncertain what role you played anymore.

When his fingers slipped past your bottom lips and the mound of his hand ground into your clit, you pulled away from him and both hands shot to your mouth. You were aware you were in a public space but you couldn’t see anything past the sofa. Everything beyond him and the tattered chaise lounge was shadowy and lacking contrast. Even then, your heart was pounding.

When did the playing around shift? Was this—- did he think this was funny? His smile was strong against your neck still, but maybe not?

You splayed your fingers out to better hide yourself, embarrassed at how your hips rolled into his palm. Looking past your hands, you could see him staring down at you now, wide shoulders hiding you from the light of the sconces above. He had the same look as always in his eyes, nothing out of place. Cooly, he asked without actually wanting an answer, “Do you think this is what they’re doing now? Or is everyone already…”

A finger slipped down and into you, your legs clenching around his hips. You heard him sigh, before a second finger began to push in. Your hips lifted off the sofa and angled into his hand, welcoming the way he was pressing down and into you.

Oh, yeah, no.

A pent up moan tumbled past your lips when his fingers crooked up and pressed into the soft bundle of nerves just inside your entrance.

“What a curious laugh you have, my dear. Are my jokes that good?” He buried his face into the crook of your neck again when a voice stopped him from leaving the little marks he had been set on.

“I thought jokes were supposed to be funny. When is the funny part going to happen?”

Alastor’s ears were pin-straight into the air, hair stiff and sharp, as his face slowly turned to the side to see Niffty sitting at the bar.

”Oh, was I suppose to leave when everyone else did?” His hand slipped out of you and then in turn, your pants.

“No, Niffty, dear. That’s quite alright.”, Ears faced back and down, eyes half lidded and smile clearly forced, “We were just— playing around.”

“Really? Cuz it kinda looked like you guys were gonna fuck.” She hopped off the bar stool and scurried down the hall, “Please don’t dirty the sofa, sir.” echoing behind her.

You patted his shoulder, lifting yourself up on your elbows, “Can I be Husk next?”

I wrote this while washing dishes— the dishes aren’t very clean but neither am I

༻Masterlist༺

[absurdthirst]

Safe Haven {Joel Miller x F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 17.1k

Warnings: No Outbreak AU, domestic violence, spousal abuse, verbal/emotional abuse, Joel is a protector, oral sex, female receiving, fingering, vaginal sex, brief hair pulling, rough sex, aftercare, death, loss, kidnapping, threats of violence, feral Joel, threats of murder, happy endings. Reader is described as having hair that can be pulled.

Comments: Coming to Jackson had been a last resort, scared of your ex and running for your life. Meeting a cowboy in the bar your aunt owns will change the trajectory of your life, and his.

Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers

**Follow @absurdthirst-writes and turn on notifications to stay up to date on all new fics.

|| MasterList || Joel Miller MasterList ||

Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

Joel groans as he steps out of his truck, the moon shining above and he adjusts his belt after he locks his vehicle. Making his way into the bar, he nods his head at the men who greet him. Locals in Jackson that he has known for years ever since he moved to the area to escape Texas. To escape the memories. He strides up to the bar and sits down on the stool, raising his hand to call over the bartender. He expects to see Jerry come over to give him his usual - beer and a shot of whiskey - but instead, a beautiful woman appears and Joel raises his eyebrows. "What can I get ya?" You ask him, wiping down the counter. "Yuengling...and shot of Jameson." He orders and you nod, walking along the bar to pour his drinks. His eyes dip down to your ass and he wonders where the hell you came from. This town is for rough ranchers, not pretty young things like you. "Here you go. Wanna open a tab or close out?" You ask and he snorts, "tab. Name is Miller. I have an ongoing tab." He says and you nod, having discovered that nearly everyone has an open tab. 

You add the drinks to his tab and sigh, leaning against the counter to look at the brooding man who saddled up to your bar. He's gorgeous. A rancher through and through with the hat on his head which he takes off to set down on the counter after taking a sip of his drink. He's the kind of man you'd be flirting with if you had any interest in that. You don't. That's why you moved to Jackson, to get away from men. Well, one man. Your husband. "So, you're new in town?" Joel asks when you refill his beer. "Yeah. Arrived yesterday." You reveal and he hums, "well, welcome to the most boring place in the USA." He snorts and you wince, remembering the fact that your husband called Jackson the exact same thing.

Joel notices the joke falls flat and he taps the bar, looking around the place. It’s pretty quiet for a Friday night, but the night is still young. You wipe down the counters and Joel tosses back the shot, setting the glass down on the counter. “Another?” You ask and he smirks slightly. “Hell, why not?” He shrugs, picking up his beer. “Nowhere else to be tonight.”

You nod, making your way over to the bottles to pour him another whiskey. After you set it down, he says, “you want a drink? I’ll buy you one.” He says and you shake your head, crossing your arms, “no thanks. I don’t drink while I’m working. My aunt owns the place and I don’t think she’d want me drinking on the job.” You reveal and Joel says your aunt’s name, “you’re her niece? She mentioned you’d be coming into town.” He hums and you hate the fact that those dark brown eyes of his are hard to look away from. “Yeah. I, uh, it was last minute. I needed to escape and she helped me.” You confess and Joel tilts his head, “from what? A boring 9-5?” He chuckles and you shake your head, “from my husband.”

Joel’s brow knits, instantly wondering what could have occurred and he stares at you for a moment before he nods. “Understood.” He grunts, taking another sip of his beer and glancing around the room, noticing a few of the other ranch’s hands are here, including his own. “You have a problem, you tell any of the boys from the Triple M to give you a hand.” He tells you, looking back at you. “You have a problem with them, you let me know. I’ll handle them.”

You nod, offering him a slight smile, “thanks.” You get called over to another patron but your eyes drift back over to Joel. He’s handsome. In a slightly depressed way. That’s probably why you can’t stop looking over at him. He’s damaged goods…like you. “Another round?” You ask Joel, someone now sitting next to him. “Yeah. And what do you want, asshole?” He asks the younger man who scoffs, “don’t be mean in front of the pretty lady.” He nudges Joel. You bite your lip at the compliment but you know it would sound better coming from the older man’s lips.

“Where’s your wife?” He looks around, not seeing Maria. His younger brother grins the sappy smile of a man in love, “she’s in the bathroom. Has to pee every time she gets out of the truck.” Joel snorts, although he’s slightly jealous. You walk back over and he jerks his head to the side. “Beer and a shot for this jerk and a ginger ale for his wife, pretty lady.” He smirks slightly, aware of the interest in your eyes and he wouldn’t mind peeling you out of those jeans.

You work fast to get their drinks, setting them down just as the woman you assume is Maria comes to the bar and sits down. “This baby is bouncing on my damn bladder.” She huffs, picking up the ginger ale you set down for her. “Not long now, baby.” Tommy says, leaning in to kiss her cheek and your stomach twists at the obvious love in his eyes for his wife. You set Joel’s beer down, “here you go, handsome.” You flirt back slightly, wanting him to know you find him attractive. You tell yourself it’s to get a bigger tip.

Tommy’s brow wings up, surprised that his brother is flirting with someone but it’s good to see him get back on the horse. “Well, fuck me, tonight’s gonna be a good night!” He slaps the bar top with a grin, making Joel roll his eyes. “Pay attention to your wife.” He grunts, sending you a wink. “Lady’s interested in me.”

Joel’s wink makes your cheeks heat up and you chuckle at the way Tommy rolls his eyes at his brother before he turns to nuzzle his nose against his wife’s cheek. Another customer calls you over and you walk down the bar passing Jerry who is serving someone else. “She’s pretty.” Maria hums, caressing her bump, “you should ask her out.”

“She’s flirtin’ to get a better tip.” Joel dismisses the idea, although he wouldn’t mind taking you out. It’s been a long time since he’s wanted someone. Hell, it was almost surprising that his cock twitches and he’s half hard. “If she wants to go out, she can let me know. I drink here, and I don’t want her aunt poisoning my whiskey.”

You watch Joel from the corner of your eye. It’s wrong to feel attracted to him. You came here to escape, not to get with a local rancher. You need to focus on yourself, not on a handsome man. You find it hard to trust anyone. Your aunt gave you a safe haven from your husband and you need to keep it that way. 

**** 

“You’re a fucking useless slut!” Your husband, Josh, yells at you, throwing the dinner you cooked him across the room. You hadn’t made the meatloaf he didn’t tell you he wanted. Apparently he expected you to be a mind reader and he’s not happy to have fettuccine Alfredo instead. “I- I’m sorry. I didn’t know. You didn’t -” You cut yourself off. 

“I didn’t tell you? You should fucking know. You know what I like to eat! Why did I marry you? I could’ve had Shelly from work. At least she sucks cock. Every guy gets a blowjob from her but no, I got stuck with you. You don’t give me shit. I got a useless cunt. All because you got pregnant.” He hisses and you shake your head, tears stinging in your eyes. You lost the baby at five months. It was traumatic for you and your husband seemed to be relieved but didn’t divorce you. You’ve been married for three years. The first year he was perfect. He took you out for dinner, treated you well. After you lost the baby, he changed. You should’ve left him when you lost the baby but you were so distraught and your only family is your aunt. You lost your parents when you were in college to a car accident. You had no one to lean on except Josh. 

“I- I’m sorry. I didn’t - I can make you meatloaf.” You choke out and he scoffs, “too fucking late. I’m gonna go to the bar, get some wings. Clean up this goddamn mess.” He points at the dishes he threw on the floor and you nod, your throat closing as your hands shake. He slams the door behind him and you start to sob, sinking down to the floor. You need to get out of here. 

**** 

“Woah, watch you’re doing lady!” One of the ranch hands snaps his fingers in front of your face and you come back to yourself, gasping when you realize the beer you’re pouring hasn’t stopped because you are pulling down on the tap. “Shit.” You hiss, lifting the lever and setting the beer down. “I’m - I’m so sorry.” You choke, reaching for the rags to clean it up. Jerry comes over, his eyes widening at the mess on the floor and he shakes his head, “clean up this goddamn mess.” He hisses, clearly frustrated with you and you gasp, hands shaking as you fumble with the rags. “I- I-” You struggle to breathe, taken back to that night with Josh.

“Jerry, chill the fuck out.” Joel growls, seeing that you are as spooked as an unbroken foal and he immediately senses that you need a moment. He pushes away from the bar and walks over to the mess and takes the rags from you. “Go take a piss or wash your face.” He tells you quietly before looking back at Jerry. “It’s just some fucking beer and it’s not like this place is the goddamn Ritz.” He huffs, folding the rag and wiping up the beer himself as you edge away. Joel’s dark eyes find you watching warily, as if unsure if you should and he nods. “Go on, girl.” He tells you again.

Your hands are shaking as you make your way to the bathroom and you inhale deeply as you push the door open, rushing over to the sink and tears sting in your eyes as you try to control yourself. You are shaking and you’re taken right back to Josh. How he would say you’re a useless whore. You splash water on your face, trying to calm your racing heart. After ten minutes, you gather the strength to go back outside to finish your shift. The beer has been cleaned up and you decide to get Joel a round on you.

Joel watches as you set another beer down in front of him. Tommy and Maria are on the dance floor, holding each other close while the other couples zip around them. “You good?” He asks, watching you close and not liking that you were obviously crying at one point.

“I’m good.” You nod, “this one is on me.” You tell him, wiping your hands on your jeans. “Sorry about that. I- I freaked out and I shouldn’t have.” You confess, “I embarrassed myself.” You shake your head, “all because of pulling a beer.”

“More like a trauma response to some shit from your past.” Joel comments, watching you for a moment before he picks his beer up with a small nod of appreciation. His knuckles are scarred from his own trauma responses, so he knows what you are going through. “Best thing to do is to focus on something good. And talk to someone…..if you’re into that kind of shit.” He doesn’t feel comfortable expressing himself to a lot of people, but he doesn’t look down on those who do.

You stare at him, shocked that he’s read you like a book, and you nod after a few seconds. “I- I’ll try to do that. Thank you. It’s - it’s complicated.” You sigh and lean back against the counter. “I don’t really like talking.”

"Then don't talk." Joel shrugs slightly, knowing that he's the same way. "Better options are to either fuck through your feeling or raise hell." He takes a sip of his beer and eyes you. "Both of them have their merits."

You snort, “sex sounds pretty damn good actually.” You lean against the counter, “I’m not a raise hell kind of girl. More of a book and a coffee kind of girl.” You admit, “what’s your preference?”

Joel’s eyebrow ticks up and he wonders if you are feeling him out. “Fuckin’ wasn’t always an option.” He tosses out casually. “Sometimes you just gotta beat the shit out of someone’s face if you can’t make a woman scream in pleasure.” He shrugs, eyes meeting yours. “But I’d rather fuck, any day of the week.”

You inhale sharply at his words, your stomach twisting with arousal. Josh wouldn’t have sex with you since that night you fucked up his dinner. Deep down, you knew he was fucking someone else and you didn’t care. As long as he wasn’t coming to you for sex. It’s been so long since you’ve been touched with desire and the look in Joel’s eyes tells you he’s capable of making you feel things you’ve never felt before. “Me too. I’m not a fighter.” You confess, snorting at your own joke. You couldn’t fight against your husband when he would scream at you. “I’m guessing the options around here aren’t too plentiful for you. Seems like more ranch hands than anyone else.”

“Nah.” Joel huffs out a smirk. “And they ain’t exactly my type.” His eyes slide up and down your body and he knows you are interested. “Been a long time since I’ve had a pretty little thing like you.” He admits, ignoring the pang of loss from Tess. It’s been a few years and she’s gone.

You bite your lip, stomach twisting with lust at the dark look in his chocolate eyes. His hair is streaked with salt and pepper and his hands are calloused. He looks capable. Like he'd protect you with his entire being or he has the capacity to destroy you. You're not sure if you want to take the risk after escaping from Josh. "Been a long time since a handsome man took any interest in me." You confess, "damaged goods." You shrug, "but you seem to understand that. I'm new here...any tips on places to go, things to do?"

Joel sets his beer down and shrugs, leaning forward. “Ain’t too much to do around here.” He admits, licking his lips before he decides to proposition you. “Best thing is to watch the sun come up off the northern part of my land.” He tells you. “Might have to come stay the night to get there on time.”

“There’s a campfire breakfast option or a regular option with a thermos of coffee to take on horseback.” Joel nods. “Either one. I prefer to sleep under the stars when I get a chance, but you might prefer indoor plumbing.

You chuckle, “I am partial to a toilet but a night under the stars sounds perfect. Exactly what I need after all the shit I’ve gone through.” You confess. “You want another drink? Water?” You ask, “or coffee? Jerry has a pot going in the back.”

“Coffee.” Joel decides, finishing his beer and pushing the glass towards you. “Black. I’m a simple kind of man.”

You nod, taking the glass, and you head into the kitchen to grab him a cup of coffee. You bring it back to him and look over at his brother and his wife. “She’s due soon.” You jerk your chin over to the couple and Joel nods, “yeah. They got all the baby shit ready to go. I had to make up the crib. Good thing I used to be a contractor.” He snorts and you chuckle, “you’re gonna be a good uncle. I can tell. You got kids?” You ask, tilting your head.

Joel frowns, looking down into his coffee. “Got a foster kid.” He tells you, his heart aching when he remembers Sarah and how he had held her in his arms as she took her last breaths. “Pain in my ass.”

You snort, “she’s a teenager?” You assume from the look on his face but his eyes soften when he mentions her. “Well, I don’t work tomorrow night. My aunt wanted me to settle in after a rough first shift so if you’re free…maybe you could show me around town?”

“What time do you get off tonight?” Joel asks, weighing the work that needs to be done with the chance to just blow off some steam.

You look at your watch, “in an hour. Jerry said he’d close out my first night. Let me settle in with the locals first.” You reveal, “so…if you’re free…” You trail off, leaning against the countertop.

“Passenger seat in my truck is empty.” He points out, glancing back at Tommy and Maria, still dancing. “We can split the difference.” He decides. “Indoor sex tonight and outdoor sex tomorrow.” He smirks and winks. “See if you can ride a horse after I ride you all night.”

Your eyes widen and you inhale sharply, liking the cocky look on his face. You’ve been through hell and you want to have fun. You deserve to have fun. “Sure thing, cowboy. You ready? I can settle your tab and tell Jerry that I’m leaving.” You know you should play coy but he doesn’t seem like the kind of man to like being messed around with. He nods, shifting to pull his wallet out of his jeans and he hands you enough bills to cover his tab and his family. “Thanks.” You say, heading over to the cash register. “Keep the change.” He orders when you come back over and you sigh, knowing it’s best to not argue. “I’ll go get my jacket if you still want me to come home with you?”

“I’ll wait.” He’s not the type of man to have you come out of the bar and search for him. Groaning slightly as he stands, he motions. “Go get your shit, I’ll say bye to my brother and hands that are here.” He tells you, turning to head towards the group of Triple M hands playing pool in the back corner.

You walk over to Jerry, telling him you're leaving, and his eyes dart over to Joel, a frown on his face. "I hope you know what you're doing." He clicks his tongue and you nod, "I'm having fun." He snorts, "go. I'll lock up." He orders and you rush into the back room to grab your jacket and your purse, coming out the front to find Joel waiting for you, his hands in his pockets. Your heart thumps in your chest at what you're doing. Both with nerves and excitement. It's been a long time since you felt this way.

​​He shouldn’t do this. You’ve got trouble written all over you. But it seems like Joel finds nothing but trouble and he’s always been a sucker for a nice ass. “Ready?” He pulls his hand out of his pocket and touches the small of your back as he guides you out of the bar and over to a large 4x4 dually with the Triple M logo on the side. He walks you to the passenger door and opens it for you. “If you’re gonna fuck the shit out of a woman, you can open the door for her.” He grunts when you look at him in surprise.

You are surprised by his actions and his words. “I just - I’m not used to having the door opened for me.” You confess and he shakes his head, “then you’ve been with mannerless assholes.” He scoffs and you chuckle, “that we can agree on.” You get up into the truck and it smells like him. He rounds the front after shutting your door and you inhale sharply, trying to calm your racing heart. “I just realized…I never got your name.” You frown, looking at him after he settles in the driver's seat.

Sliding the key into the ignition, Joel chuckles as he introduces himself. “Joel Miller.” He tells you quietly. “Rancher.” He wonders if you are second guessing yourself. “Own the Triple M spread. My brother Tommy and his wife own the next ranch over. Called it Fresh Start Ranch.” He snorts. “They rehabilitate horses and people.” He tells you. “Gives minors and first time offenders job skills.”

You nod, saying his name. It suits him. “Enough people know you to know that I’m safe.” You declare and he nods, “I ain’t gonna hurt you.” He promises and you smile, telling him your name, “currently on the run from my crazy husband who tried to kill me. I own nothing. Don’t have a dollar. He took control of our joint account and I can’t use it otherwise he will find me.” You confess, revealing your reason for being here.

“Cash is king.” Joel nods, not liking the bastard from what little you’ve told him. “You can always open an account in our local bank.” He tells you. “They don’t ask too many questions. A lot of the hands open accounts.”

"Probably best to stick with cash. I - I barely made it out of there with my life. I can't - I can't risk him finding me." You confess, hands shaking slightly as you lean back in your seat. You close your eyes, remembering the way he held the knife in his hand. "Hey. Hey. Look at me." Joel murmurs and you inhale deeply before you turn to look at him. "I can escort you home. I ain't - you don't seem ready for anything." He observes and you sigh, "it's - I don't want to be alone. Can we go to yours and talk? I want to tell you why I'm like this." You say, voice a little stronger.

He doesn’t need another headache. He doesn’t need another responsibility. He’s got plenty on his plate without your shit added on, but he can’t turn down the naked plea in your eyes. He sighs and nods. “Sure.” He pulls out of the parking lot, resigned to the fact that the sex he had been anticipating is now off the table. “How did your aunt end up in Jackson?” He asks conversationally.

“She was married to a rancher. He died when he was fifty. Heart attack from the stress. So she sold the ranch and bought the bar and the apartment above. She lived there for ten years then decided to move into a home when she got remarried. So, she’s been around town for a while. Doesn’t manage the bar as much and needs a set of hands. She called me to check on me the week before he - she said I was welcome to escape here. Just call her and the apartment and job is mine.” You tell him and he hums, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel.

“Did he physically abuse you?” Joel asks, wanting to know what kind of prick you were married to. “Or more emotional and verbal?” He knows that if it’s physical, if the bastard shows up here, no one will even acknowledge that you are here, if you are sitting right in front of them. Everyone protects their own here in Jackson. Joel would be even more brutal. He would just take him out on the ranch and bury him.

“He was emotional and verbal. Everything I did…it was never enough. He would throw things at him but never hit me. Until - until the day he found out I was leaving. He came home early from work. He wanted me to make him lunch and he found my bags in the hall. I was in the shower, about to get dressed and leave before he got home from work and he - he came into the bathroom with the knife. I only managed to escape because I sprayed him with hot water. Ran to the car naked and I- I drove off after grabbing one bag in the hallway. I sold the car the next day, bought another one so he couldn’t track me and drove here to escape.” You reveal, hands shaking at the memory of him pulling back the shower curtain, the knife in his hand.

“Jesus Christ.” Joel hisses, tightening his fist on the steering wheel as he drives. “What a fucking psycho. You don’t need to worry, people around here don’t like fuckers period, but definitely not ones who would threaten someone they are supposed to protect.” He reaches out and offers your leg a light squeeze before he lets go. Remembering you might be skittish.

You feel safe with him. His touch is reassuring and something you haven’t felt in so long. “I- I escaped but he’s looking for me. I know he is. He was yelling at me, telling me he couldn’t let me go. I couldn’t leave. He screamed that he’d kill me before I left.” You choke, “I barely made it but I did and I refuse - I need to start fresh.”

Joel nods, knowing all about fresh starts. “Jackson is a good place for it.” He tells you. “Lots of folks are here because they got something they want to forget. You’ll blend in in no time.” He chuckles. “Then you’ll have half the patrons ready to whoop his ass if he shows his face in town.”

You smile, “thank you.” You reach for his hand, squeezing gently. He seems so capable and you love it. The strength in his touch but you’re not scared of it. You look out of the window, watching the town pass by, and he pulls into an estate with “Triple M” above the sign. “I really want to see the sunrise.” You reveal and you look back at him as he drives down the rubble road to his place. “I really want to see you.” You decide, feeling safe with him after telling him why you're so skittish.

Joel chuckles and he tries to ignore the harsh reality of that lie. He’s let so many women in his life down. His wife, his daughter, his lover. He’s terrified that he might let Ellie down and now you have just thrown him for a loop like he’s breaking a new colt. “You’re seein’ me, ain’t ya?” He asks, flashing you a grin. It takes five minutes to get from the gate of the property to the main house and he nods towards it when it comes into view. “Whaddya think?”

You inhale sharply at the beautiful lodge. Its setting against the mountains that will be seen when the sun rises has you nodding, “it’s beautiful. I see why you like it so much.” You tell him, “you gonna show me the inside?”

“Don’t plan on making you wait in the truck.” He snorts, pulling up to the front yard and parking it. “Come on. I’ll show you around and you can see what you like best.”

You smile at him as he gets out after killing the engine and rounds the truck to open the door for you. You get out and follow him inside his place, admiring his shoulders and back as he unlocks the door to reveal the comfortable and warm lodge. “Oh it’s gorgeous. I love it.” You exhale in awe, stepping in to admire the manly yet homey decor.

“It’s home.” He grunts, moving over to the bar area of the living room. “Want a drink? Coffee? Whatever you want, we can make it happen.”

“You have any whiskey?” You ask, walking over to the photo frames on the table in the living room. There’s a few different women in the photos. From two young girls to two older women. You can't figure out who is who. You turn to watch Joel pour out two glasses of whiskey, walking over to hand it to you after he’s done. “So who’s who?” You ask, gesturing to the photos.

Joel sighs softly, aware that you would ask about it, although he hadn’t expected it to be tonight. “That’s Ellie and Tess.” He tells you, pointing at one picture with his drink hand before taking a sip. “Foster kid and my late- erm, lover.” He settles on that title for Tess.

Your eyes widen and he continues, “she died a few years ago. It - it was fucking dumb. She was trying to rescue a stray dog on the property and it bit her. She got fucking rabies and - and she died.” He shakes his head, unable to believe it even after all these years. The worst part? She didn’t know that he loved her. “I’m so sorry.” You choke, reaching up to touch his arm.

Joel shakes his head and sighs. "Not a goddamn thing I could do." He admits softly, unsure why he is talking to you about this. He never talks to anyone about losing Tess, not even Tommy dares to bring up her name. Ellie had just been placed with them and it had been a long time before he opened up to the girl at all.

Your heart aches for him, he’s lost so much. “I’m - there’s no words.” You murmur, knowing there’s nothing you can say to remotely make the loss tolerable. He has to heal on his own time. “She has your eyes.” You point to the other teenager and Joel smiles sadly, “my Sarah. She - she was killed when she was thirteen. I used to live in Texas. Austin. She went to go get my watch repaired for my birthday and - and she was shot.” He confesses, “I tried to get there as quick as I could and she - she died in my arms.” He finishes quietly and your eyes widen, glistening with tears from the pain in his voice. 

“Joel…I-” You don’t continue, you just spin around and wrap your arms around him.

Joel grunts, absorbing the impact of the hug. You had pushed into him hard, probably trying to reconcile all that he’s endured and he awkwardly wraps his arms around you. It’s not that he doesn’t appreciate the hug, he just doesn’t know how to really handle the softness anymore. “It’s - I’m existing. I’m still here.” He doesn’t mention that his sole reason now is for Ellie, but he rubs your back gently. “If I can make it, you can too, pretty girl.”

You look at him, that small patch in his beard that doesn’t seem to grow, and you lean in to kiss it. “You don’t- we don’t have to do anything.” He reminds you but you kiss his jaw again. “I want to. I want to feel. I want to feel wanted. Desired. Can you do that for me? Can you fuck me like there’s no tomorrow?” You ask, “because that’s what I need right now.”

Joel’s eyes flatten, darkening with desire. “I fuck rough.” He warns you, voice dipping down and taking on a raspy quality. “I’ll make you feel good, but I’ll also make you hurt.” He’s not talking about a slap or any kind of violence, he doesn’t get off on beating women while he fucks them. However, you would feel him tomorrow, every step you take and when you are riding a horse.

You whimper at the gruffness in his voice but it’s arousal. You know he won’t actually harm you. You nod, “I want that. Just- just make me feel something other than what I’ve been feeling.” You demand, wanting to take control of your emotions after such a turbulent escape.

“I can do that.” He promises, lifting his drink. “Finish your whiskey and I’ll make you forget your own name by the time I’m done riding you.” He growls, cock starting to harden again at the thought of laying you out on his bed.

You let go of him, stepping back to grab your glass and you down it, wincing at the sting of the alcohol but you like it. He watches you as he sips, doesn’t down it like you do, and your body tingles from his intense stare.

Joel knows Ellie is in town. It was the entire reason he had gone to the bar. She’s spending the night at Dina’s house and the main house is empty except for you and him. “Take your clothes off.” He orders, leaning back against the bar. “Ex-excuse me?” You huff, making him smirk at you as he continues to drink. “You heard me, girl. Strip.” His eyes drag up and down your form possessively. “I want to see every beautiful inch of your body before I touch you.”

You should say no but the look on his face has you obeying. You shrug off your jacket, letting it fall to the floor before you reach for the hem of your shirt. You lift it over your head and expose your bra. You hear his soft groan and it makes your pussy start to throb with need at the desire. You reach behind you to unclasp it and drag it down your arms, exposing your tits to his hungry gaze as he sips the alcohol. He doesn’t say a word, encouraging you to continue with his silence so you kick off your sneakers and unbutton your jeans, pushing them down your legs until you’re left in your panties and socks. “All of it.” He demands and you nod, lifting your feet to remove your socks then you hook your fingers in your panties, pushing them down your legs until you are standing bare before him.

“Fuck.” Joel growls, draining the rest of his whiskey and slapping the glass down onto the bar before he shoves off of it. His blood is hot, cock aching for you and he’s going to show you exactly what that little show has done for him. Stomping up to you, he grabs your ass and hauls you close, his lips demanding and harsh when they descend on yours.

He tastes like whiskey and something sweet that makes you moan into his mouth. His fingers dig into your flesh and you tangle your fingers in his salt and pepper locks, pressing yourself against him. His hard cock is pressing against your hip and you moan when his tongue pushes into your mouth. He takes what he wants without forgiveness and you love it. You love that he’s taking all the need to think away from you.

Joel is strong, he’s manhandled bull calves and horses, throwing hay and everything else that is needed on a ranch. Grabbing your thighs, he hoists you up into his arms, making you gasp into his mouth. Clinging to him as your legs wrap around his waist. Still kissing you, he starts to carry you towards his bedroom, eager to lay you down.

You gasp when he tosses you down on his bed. Simple comforter and two pillows, you shift back onto them to watch him as he works on unbuttoning his shirt. “I want to do it.” You huff, shifting onto your knees and reaching out to continue removing his clothes. When his shirt is unbuttoned, you push it down his shoulders and caress his chest, admiring the salt and pepper hair there.

Joel groans at the feel of your warm hands on his skin. He hadn’t been lying, it’s been a long time since he’s had someone touch him. Your fingers comb through his chest hair and he leans in to bite your bottom lip. “Open my pants, pretty girl.” He growls, cupping your ass again.

Your hands slide lower to play with the buckle of his belt, working fast to undo it, and you whip it out of the loops, making him chuckle. You toss the belt to the floor and work on unbuttoning his pants, reaching in to pull his hard cock out and you moan at the way your fingers barely touch when you squeeze him. “Holy shit.” You gasp, looking down at his girth.

Joel smirks, watching your eyes widen. “Second thoughts, pretty girl?” He rasps out. “Don’t think you could take me?”

You swallow harshly, "I- I am going to take every inch." Your stomach twists in anticipation. Josh had a small dick and you never complained when he first started fucking you but he was selfish. You wonder if Joel is selfish or not. You lean over to spit onto his length, twisting your wrist to start pumping his cock.

“Un uh.” He almost grabs your face, not wanting you to blow him, but he just grunts in approval when you pump his cock in your fist. “You’re going to cream on every inch.” He warns you, rocking his hips forward into your grip. “Now, tell me right now before we get started.” He huffs. “Anything I can’t do to you?”

You shake your head, "he never - thank God. He didn't abuse me like that. He stopped touching me. We didn't - not for eighteen months." You confess, "I think he was cheating on me." You continue pumping his cock, leaning in to kiss his neck.

Joel grunts. “Then your pussy’s been neglected for far too long.” He grabs your wrist to pull you off his cock, stepping back and kicking off his boots and shucking his jeans. Making sure to pull out his wallet for a condom.

You shift back onto the bed, laying down as you watch him throw his wallet onto his nightstand, his jeans and briefs discarded on the floor. "Fuck, you're so hot." You murmur, eyes drinking in the sight of the strong and capable man.

He chuckles, knowing that he is old and wearing down, but he can still put on a good show for you. Grabbing your ankle, he flips you onto your stomach and ignores your shriek of surprise before his hand comes down on your ass.

You gasp in surprise, your finger curling in the sheets and you moan when he smacks your ass again. "Again." You plead, wanting him to consume you, to make you forget all of the shit you've endured recently.

“That’s a good girl.” He slaps your ass again, a bit harder this time, tempering the slap with a quick rub of the skin with the palm of his hand. Grabbing both globes and pulling them apart to look. “Stared at this ass while you got my beer.” He grunts, leaning in and spitting on the puckered hole. “Knew it would be killer.”

Your eyes roll back in bliss at the way he's manhandling you. "Swayed my hips to make sure you were looking." You confess, "I wanted you to - to want me." You admit, "want you to fuck me hard. Make me forget my own name."

His hand slides through your folds to your clit. “Have to make sure you can take me first.” He hums. “Want you to be sore, not bleeding.”

You rest your cheek on his sheets, moaning when he rubs your clit. You’re already wet for him but his cock is too girthy for you to take him without his fingers stretching you out first. “So good. Joel, baby. Shit. Want your fingers inside of me.”

Joel smirks, pulling his hand away so you whine. He slaps your ass once more and flips you onto your back again. “Want to see your face when you cum.” He slides two thick fingers into your cunt while he dives into your folds with his mouth ravenously.

Your shriek echoes off of his walls as his fingers drive into you, making your back arch and your fingers tangle into his hair as he sucks on your clit like a hard candy. “Fuck.” You gasp, loving the way his thick fingers stretch you out.

Joel groans against your clit, curling his fingers up inside you and scissoring them apart. Wanting to stretch you out. His other hand has your hip in a bruising grip to keep you from bucking up. Sucking on your clit harshly.

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!” You cry out, back arching as you try to not buck up. His hand squeezes your hip and you moan his name as he laps at your clit, your fingers tugging on his hair and your other hand squeezes your tit.

His dark eyes watch you carefully, tongue flicking over your clit before he sucks on it again. Pulling back his hand in order to push another finger inside you. Wanting to make sure you are going to take him with ease.

You pant as he stretches you out on his thick digits. No one has taken this much care with you. Most men would’ve been trying to stick their dick in you by now. You moan his name again, toes curling when he works you higher and higher until you’re crying out. “Oh fuck!” You squeal, clamping down on his fingers as you fall apart around them.

Joel lightens the pressure of his tongue, but he keeps pumping his fingers into you. Curling them and pushing deeper. Rocketing you higher until his name comes out as a squeak and another rush of liquid splashes his wrist. Your cunt squeezes his fingers like a vice and he knows you are going to feel amazing around his cock. Chuckling, he starts to slow down, letting you ride out your pleasure with a nice languid pace until your body goes boneless. “Now you’re ready.” He hums.

You nod, eyes still closed as he withdraws his digits and you manage to open them to watch him kneel on the bed. He grabs the condom, opening it, and he rolls it down his cock with a hiss from how hard his cock is. He was leaking pre-cum into the sheets while he was working you open. “I’m still not sure that’s gonna fit.” You declare and he chuckles, “it’s gonna.” His face turns serious, “but if it hurts, you tell me and I pull out.” You nod and he shuffles closer, gathering your slick from your folds to coat his length. “You ready?” He asks and you inhale deeply, “yeah. Fuck me.”

Joel hovers over you, flashing you a smirk as he braces one hand on the bed. The other is wrapped around his cock as he guides it to your entrance. “Wrap your legs around me when I push inside you, pretty girl.” He grunts. “And hang on. This ride will last longer than you’re used to.” He promises, snapping his hips forward and burying his length inside you.

​​You do as he says, wrapping your legs around his waist as he pushes inside of you. “Oh my fucking God!” You cry out, tilting your head back as you take his girth inside of you. He’s stretching you out but the slight hint of pain is delicious. Your mouth falls open and your legs tighten around him while he works himself completely inside of you. “I really didn’t think you’d fit.” You confess, gasping from the intensity and you love it. You feel alive.

He chuckles, leaning in to brush his lips over yours. “Knew it would.” He grunts, twitching when your walls clench down around him. You seem to like the rough rasp of his voice. “Tight little pussy fits like a glove.” He groans. “Now let’s see how you cum on my cock.” He hisses as he pulls his hips back, prepared to slam back into you again.

You wrap your arms around his neck, bringing his lips back to yours, and your tongue slides against his as he starts to move inside of you. He eagerly swallows your moans of pleasure and you tilt your hips up, trying to meet his rhythm. “Fuck. You feel so good.” You pant against his lips, “more. Want you to - to wreck me.” You order, wanting him to make you forget your own name.

He chuckles again at how greedy you are, but his hips snap forward just a little harder on the next thrust. “Gonna wreck you.” He promises, ducking down slightly and starting to bite on your jaw.

You tilt your head to give him more access, your thighs tightening around him as he starts to fuck you hard. "Shit baby. Keep - keep going." You plead, knowing your expectations are low because of your husband who would barely last a couple of minutes.

Joel plants his hands on the bed bedside your head and starts to pound into you. Knowing that his back will start to scream, but he’s not going to let up until you are the one screaming. Hammering into you with rough, quick thrusts before pulling back to do it again.

Your eyes widen when he hammers into you. A squeal escaping your lips and you choke out his name. He steals your breath from you and his cock pushes deep enough that it feels like he's in your stomach. "Ho-holy shit." You moan, your heels pushing into his ass as he grunts above you.

He doesn’t have the breath to chuckle. Just continuing to fuck you like there is no tomorrow. Grunting and hissing every time he buries himself deep and pulls back for another thrust. He curls his hands into fists and he changes the angle of his hips until the pubic hair above his cock rubs against your clit.

“Ohhh myyyyy fuck - fucking Godddd!” You squeal endlessly, breathlessly as he rams into you. He’s rubbing your clit with his pelvis and your eyes squeeze shut. Your breath hitches as your body starts to shake. You moan his name and he rocks into you over and over. “I’m gonna- you’re gonna - shit. Joel. Joel. Jo-” Your voice breaks as you fall apart, clamping down on his cock.

Joel growls, something deep and feral from his being as he rocks into you harder. Watching as your eyes squeeze closed and your back arches. Your cry fills his ears as you cum around him. As soon as your body tenses for the last wave of pleasure, Joel is rearing up, breaking the hold your legs have on him to pull out of you and flip you back over. Wanting to fuck you from behind.

You scramble onto your hands and knees. Your back is arching as you still shake from your previous orgasm. “Fuck baby. I need - fuck me.” You plead, wiggling your ass.

It’s almost amusing how desperate you are for his cock, but he doesn’t chuckle or slap your ass. Just notching his cock and pushing back inside you with a groan of your name as he holds onto your hips.

“Shit. Oh fuck!” You cry out, fingers grabbing at the sheets as he fills you again, stretching you out even more in this position. “Joel!” You gasp, falling forward onto your elbows.

“That’s right.” Now he slaps your flank. “Told you I’d ride you hard.” He grunts, setting a harsh pace as your cunt squelches around him. “Fuck, you’re so goddamn tight, petty girl.”

He practically straddles you, his knees by yours as he bends you over so he can sink even deeper inside of you. “Fuckkkk.” Your voice rattles as he hammers into you. Your eyes close as you struggle to breathe under his weight but you love it.

He presses his weight into you, aware that you love it from the way you moan. He can’t help but hold you tight, pressing closer and his teeth scrape over your shoulder as he surrounds you.

You let him overtake your senses, letting him use your body however he wants. You moan his name loudly as he rams into you over and over. His cock punching your guts and your cries come out soundless as he wrecks your pussy.

Joel loses himself in you. Forgetting everything but the sound your cunt makes and the way it squeezes him. Growling as he feels himself get closer, knowing that you need to cum again before he finishes.

Your eyes roll into the back of your head as he adjusts his hips and hits a spot inside of you that makes your body shake. “Yessss right thereeee.” You hiss and he focuses on that spot, pushing against it time and time again until finally pushes you over the edge. Your cry is soundless as you cum, soaking him and your thighs shake.

Joel’s hand finds your hair, tangling into it as he yanks your head back. “That’s iiiiiiittttt.” He growls. “So good. Gonna cum, pussy’s too good.” He praises, pulling your head back more so he can kiss along your throat as his thrusts stutter. “Fuuuuuuuuck.” He groans your name and pushes deep, spilling into the condom and burying his face against your neck, relaxing his hold on your hair.

You pant as he presses his cheek against your neck, his hot breath fanning over your skin. You let him ride out his high, rocking back against him as he twitches inside of you. “Fuck. That was - " You can’t even finish the words and Joel smiles against your neck. “That’s - that’s what I needed.”

“Me too.” He groans, reaching back to hold the base of the condom as he pulls out of you. When he moves back, you kind of slither forward to lay on the pillows and he chuckles. “Now, pretty girl.” He groans slightly as he climbs off the bed. “Have you had anything to eat? Want some water? Or just a piss and some sleep?”

“Piss. Water. Food - if you have any - sleep. In that order.” You murmur, feeling boneless, “gonna take me a little to be able to move.” You admit, “you fucked my skeleton out of me.” You chuckle softly, enjoying the scent of him on the pillows.

He snorts as he pulls the condom off and ties it closed. Moving to the en-suite door, he shuffles inside and lifts the toilet seat. “Pisser’s in here.” He calls out as he pees. “When you can move. I’ll go make you some food and get you that water.” He flushes and comes back out, smirking as he walks over and presses his lips to yours. “Steak and eggs good?”

“Where have you been all my life?” You tease, groaning as you shift to sit up as he grabs his briefs from the floor. You watch him pull them on and he winks at you. You groan as you shuffle off of the bed, plucking his shirt from the floor before you practically waddle into his bathroom. It’s clean. No decor and only a few towels. Typical man. You pee and wash your hand, splashing your face while Joel heads downstairs.

He’s got the steaks cooking on the grill pan, over the gas flame and he pokes it with his finger before he moves to the fridge to get the eggs out. He practically lives off steak and eggs, the simple, yet delicious meal one that Ellie loves as well. He hears you start to move around upstairs and chuckles to himself as he pours you a glass of water.

You make your way downstairs on shaky legs, finding the kitchen and you swallow when you see Joel's back muscles moving as he cooks. "A girl could get used to this." You tease, walking over to press a kiss to his back, "thank you for taking such good care of me."

Joel snorts, turning around and grabbing your ass as you walk by. “Sit down before you fall down.” He smirks with pride, he nods towards a chair at the bar with a glass of water sitting in front of it. “Steak’s almost done. You like your eggs scrambled or fried?”

"Fried. Over easy." You tell him as you sit down on the chair, wincing slightly, and you pick up the water to take a sip. You should be recoiling from a man but Joel makes you feel safe. After what happened at the bar, you know he understands you and knows how to handle you. You watch him crack the eggs, "you cook a lot?"

“Have to if I want to eat.” Joel snorts, looking over his shoulder at you. “We had a housekeeper, a while back, but she got married to the Rawlings boy a couple of ranches over and is expecting a little one.” He explains as he slides the eggs around the pan. “Ellie burns water, so if we’re gonna eat, I’ve got to cook.”

You chuckle, “sounds like you know what you’re doing.” You down most of the water and watch as he serves up the eggs. You moan when he sets the plate down in front of you before he sits beside you. “Thank you.” You murmur, reaching for his hand to squeeze it before he picks up his fork.

“Think I should be saying that to you.” He hums, nodding to the food. “Now that we’ve pissed and had water, we are on to the food portion of Joel’s after fucking care.” He jokes. “Eat up.”

You giggle, picking up your knife and fork. You dig in and groan at the taste of the steak and perfectly cooked eggs. “Fuck, you are the whole package. Good lay. Good cook. Just need to see if you can kill a spider.” You nudge him playfully and he chuckles, “I even put the seat down.” You smile and he continues eating. You’re quiet but it’s comfortable, something you’re not used to. You used to be on edge when Josh was quiet, wondering when he’d say something bad.

You finish your water and Joel doesn’t say a word. Just getting up with a slight groan and going to refill it. You are happily digging into the food and he wonders if you had a chance to eat at all while you were at work. He brings it back over and nods when you thank him. Finishing up his own food quickly and moving to load the dishwasher with the dirty plates while you eat the last bites of your food.

“I can do that. You don’t have to do that. You cooked. Let me -” You scramble to grab your plate, rushing over to the dishwasher. “Go sit down. I can - let me do it.” You plead, reminded of the way Josh would demand you load the dishwasher before he finished eating. He didn’t want to finish his meal with a dirty kitchen so you’d have to get up to clean it before he finished his food. If you weren’t fast enough, he’d throw his plate at you. He never hit you but you’d be hit with shards of ceramic from it smashing. He would call you a lazy whore and you’d have to clean up the smashed dishes.

Joel frowns at the panicked tone to your voice and he takes the plate from you gently. “Don’t worry about this.” He grumbles. “Just gonna throw it in. The kid can unload it tomorrow.” His brows scrunch when you freeze in confusion. “You’re my guest, pretty girl. Only thing you need to do for me is hop your sweet ass back in my bed to sleep.” He cocks an eyebrow up. “Unless you’ve decided you want to go home?”

You shake your head, hands shaking slightly, “I- I’m sorry. I didn’t - he used to make me - I had to clean up before he finished eating. He liked a clean house and I- shit. I’m so sorry.” You shake your head, knowing how ridiculous it sounds. “I don’t want to go home.”

“Don’t be sorry.” Joel closes the dishwasher and turns around to face you, leaning back against the counter. “You’ve got shit in your past that affects you, so do I.” He shrugs like it’s nothing too serious. “Just let it out when you need to, you ain’t gonna bother me.”

You walk over to him, cupping his cheeks. “Thank you.” You murmur, leaning in to softly kiss him. “Thank you.” You caress his cheek and you drop your hands, feeling silly for your reaction. “You ready to sleep? I’m exhausted and you promised me a sunrise.” You tap his chest.

Joel grabs your hand and squeezes it. “Sleep sounds good.” It’s late and you need some sleep. He needs some sleep, although he’s accustomed to only a few hours. You smile shyly and he turns to lead you out of the kitchen. “You need me to carry you upstairs?”

You nod, “yeah. I don’t think I’m gonna make it. My legs are like jello.” You confess, “can you- I can make it.” You promise and he nods, reaching down to wrap his arm around your legs, his other arm around your waist. He grunts and he lifts you into his arms and you wrap your arms around his neck.

He chuckles again at the dazed and slightly romanticized look on your face as he hauls you up the stairs. “Just like out of one of those books, huh?” He jokes, smirking at you. “Gotta be willing to carry them after you fuck the life of ‘em.”

You can't believe he carried you up the stairs. He sets you down on his bed and pulls the covers over you. "Let me grab you another water and then it's sleep time, baby." He declares and you nod, covering the yawn that escapes your lips.

By the time he grabs the water and comes back up, you are already passed out. It’s kind of cute how you are curled up in the pillow and he sets the water on the nightstand beside you. Climbing into the bed beside you, he turns off the light and closes his eyes, aware that he will be awake in a couple of hours.

"Sweetheart. Wake up." You wince at the slight nudge to your shoulder. "Wanna see the sunrise?" A gruff voice asks you and you open your eyes to look at Joel. "Thought you were gonna wake me up with oral?" You tease, voice rough with sleep.

“Is that what the sunrise is to you?” Joel smirks slightly and shrugs. “If we do that, you’ll miss the sun coming up as you cum.” He teases back.

You groan and sit up, excited to see the sunrise with a handsome man. You rub your eyes and yawn, “I gotta pee.” You murmur, shifting out of bed and you shuffle into the bathroom. Your body aches from his harsh fucking last night but you love it.

Joel had already gotten up and dressed. Laying out a spare toothbrush for you to use. He throws out a heavier jacket than you had worn last night on the bed for you to wear, not wanting you to get cold when you are riding. “Going downstairs to make coffee.” He calls out.

You gurgle around the toothbrush and you wash your face. Redressing in your clothes and sneakers, shrugging on the heavier jacket, you make your way downstairs to where Joel sets a cup of coffee on the counter. “Not sure if you want cream or sugar. Or that oat milk shit.” He grunts and you chuckle, “just cream.” He nods and grabs the creamer for you.

While you take your first sip, Joel pulls out a thermos and pours the rest of the pot into it. Adding creamer for you since he will drink coffee any kind of way. “You ever ridden before?” He asks, unsure of your skill or id he should just drive the truck.

You chuckle, waggling your eyebrows, “depends on what I’m riding.” He raises his eyebrows, a serious look on your face, and you nod, “yeah. Back when I was a kid. I used to ride a lot on my friend’s horse when I’d visit her.”

He nods, happy that he can get the horses out. “I’ve got a sweet little mare that is itching for some exercise.” He tells you. “We’ll make breakfast over the fire at the ridge.”

You feel like you’re in a dream as Joel gathers the bags and you make your way to the stables, it’s dark out but Joel flicks on the lights and you gasp at the set up he has. “Oh they are gorgeous.” You coo as you walk over to a horse, holding your hand out so you don’t spook them.

There’s something about girls and horses. He smirks as he moves to the tack room and grabs a couple of saddles. It won’t take him long to get the horses saddled and on the way. He’s too used to this kind of work. Even if the boys in the bunkhouse aren’t up yet. He walks back and hears you giggle as the horse, the mare he had wanted you to ride, sniffs your hair and attempts to taste it. “She’s a nibbler.” He warns with a grin.

"Like her daddy." You giggle, winking at Joel before ducking your head away from the horse. "She's beautiful." You murmur, stroking her nose and she nuzzles into your hand. "You wanna ride, sweetheart?" You ask her and she grunts into your palm. "We are gonna see the sunrise, beautiful girl." You coo, enamored with the horse.

Joel saddles his own horse and then moves over to you and Sweet Pea. He tells you her name and rolls his eyes playfully when you coo even more at the sweet name. He ties the bags onto the saddle and pats her flank gently. “Ready to go?”

You nod and he grabs the reins of his horse, making his way out of the stable and into the night. The stars are still shining and you follow Joel's lead as you begin to make your way across his land to the hills in the distance. "It's so peaceful out here." You declare, enjoying the solitude with Joel by your side.

“It is.” Joel agrees. “I feel like I can start over here. Maybe not fuck up this time.” He steers you towards the mountain that he wants to show you and watches out for holes or snakes. “Do right by the kid. Give her a fucking future.”

You smile softly, "you seem to really care about the people you love. You're protective. I understand...after everything. You're a good man, Joel. Even if you don't think so." You know his type, brooding and self loathing but he's shown you nothing but kindness.

“You’ve never seen me at my worst.” He reminds you, aware that the violent, brutal side of him could quickly change your mind on his goodness. A rabbit darts out from a burrow and he instinctively reaches for your horse's bridle as he tries to calm the slightly spooked horses. “Easy, easy there.” He grunts out, happy when they just side step nervously and then settle back down. “Good girl, good boy.” He soothes, patting them on the necks.

Your heart flutters at the way he handles the horses and you continue on your journey, the sky starting to lighten but no sunrise just yet. "Everyone has a bad side. It's about how we handle our demons. You have been nothing but kind to me." You shrug and the cool morning air hits your face.

He admires your positivity, despite the abuse from your ex. You are good to the very marrow of your bones. Ellie would like you. “Demons.” He grunts, “well, most of the time, I just shoot ‘em.” He guides you further onto his property, up the mountain to the little ridge he loves to watch the sunrise from. “Here we are.”

You gasp at the sight in front of you. The sky is brightening up and you see the mountains in the distance. “Wow.” You murmur, staring at the beauty in front of you. Joel dismounts and guides his horse over to the tree to tie him up, patting his side before he comes over to help you off of your horse. “It’s gorgeous.” You murmur when he helps you down and takes the reins.

“It’s my favorite place.” Joel confesses, motioning to the flat rock where he likes to sit. “I’ll get the coffee, and we can sit.” He tosses you a blanket to spread over the cold rock.

You spread the blanket out on the ground and settle down, watching him grab the bags from the saddle and carry them over. You eagerly take the flask of coffee and the two plastic mugs, pouring the hot liquid into them.

“After the sun comes up, I’ll make a fire and we’ll cook some breakfast.” Joel promises. “Bacon, eggs and toast sound good?” He smirks and holds up a can of beans. “Or are you a beans on toast kind of gal?” He tosses the can up and shrugs when he catches it. “It’s actually pretty good.”

“No beans.” You snort, taking a sip of your coffee. 

The steaming cup of coffee warms his hand and adds to the beauty of the moment. watching as the pink hues break and the bright sun flashes over the horizon and bathes the valley below in sunlight."Beautiful." Joel whispers softly.

You are silent, just taking in the sunrise and it takes your breath away. When the sun is above the horizon, you lift your cheek from his shoulder and turn to look at him. “Thank you for showing me this. When I - before I escaped, I thought I was destined to die at the hands of my husband - physically or mentally. I never imagined I’d be safe and watching the sunrise. Thank you for bringing me out here.”

"This is a place for new beginnings." He murmurs softly. "Never thought I would get one, but I know you damn sure deserve one." He looks into your eyes seriously. "You'll be safe here. No matter what."

You know he isn’t one for gushing gratitudes so you simply nod and lean in to kiss his cheek. You watch the sky for another few moments before he starts to set up the fire for breakfast. “Where did you learn all of this?” You ask, knowing you wouldn’t have a clue how to start a fire. “My Pa. Taught me and Tommy when we were kids. Used to go camping in the middle of nowhere in Texas.” He confesses, “he taught us how to survive. Figured the world was gonna end one day and we’d all have to fight for our lives.” He snorts at the memory of his father. You hum, “like a zombie apocalypse?” You ask and Joel snorts, “yeah.”

"After Tommy got out of the Army....he helped me for a while. We were contractors. Built houses and shopping malls." It seems like Joel is talking about another life. He is talking about another man. Life had been so simple back then. "Then...after Sarah....Tommy moved out west and when I- I couldn't stay anymore, I followed him. Came out here, started over."

You watch him as he prepares the breakfast, “at least you came out here. Started over. Some people…they wouldn’t survive what you went through.” You tell him and he sighs, “some days it doesn’t feel like it.” You understand that. “But you’re still here. And it takes time.” You tell him and he tuts, “wasn’t time. It was Ellie.” Your heart melts at that and you watch him place the bacon on the now hot pan. “And she’s lucky to have you.”

He doubts that, but he won't let her down. He pokes at the bacon and looks around the valley, the sun clearing the horizon. "Well, she's got me." He snorts, smirking slightly. "Sometimes she hates it. Says I'm too parentified. whatever that means."

You giggle, “maybe you need to loosen up a little. She’s a teenager, right? Just need to let her have a drink now and then and let her date someone stupid.” You tell him, “I know. I was a teenage girl.”

"She tries whiskey every time I drink some at home." Joel glances back over at you and grins. "Hates it every time." HIs grin widens when you laugh and he shrugs. "Hasn't seemed interested in anyone yet."

You shrug, "maybe she will, maybe she won't. You'll be a good father to her whatever happens." You can tell he's a strong character, strong in his resolve to be better. "You just gotta let her make some mistakes. Lord knows my parents let me fuck up...but they would've said no to Josh." You murmur, frowning at the realization that he was never the man you thought he was.

“Everyone needs to make mistakes, although I know she’s going to be making all new ones.” He hums, smirking slightly at the headstrong girl and her convictions. He looks back at the bacon and he frowns slightly. “Did your parents….are they gone?” He asks, understanding that they must be. 

You nod, “car accident. I was in college when I got the call. Some asshole drunk driver. I - they never got to see me graduate. I barely did. Got lost in the booze and partying to deal with my grief.” You confess, “nearly fucked everything up but they left me their house in the will. Josh made me sell it. Used half of the money for a down payment on our house and he - he spent the rest of the money. Gambling. He was - I was scared and alone and grieving. I just wanted to belong somewhere and he took advantage.”

Joel frowns, jaw clenched at the idea of you being taken advantage of while you were so vulnerable. While you were trapped in your grief. “Maybe you can find a new home. A new life where you don’t have to worry about being taken advantage of.” He offers quietly. “A life your parents would be proud of. One that you are happy in.” 

“That’s why I left. Why I moved here. I can’t touch the account. He’d be able to find me. I need time to figure out what to do next but one day…I’m hoping I find a home. A place I can relax and be happy in.” You confess, watching Joel serve up the food after he fried the eggs.

“You think he will come looking for you here?” Joel asks, sitting down beside you after handing you one of the tin plates the hands take on the trail. “Since your aunt is here? Would he remember?”

You shake your head, “she met him once, when we got married. He didn’t really know about her. Kinda cut me off from her after we got married. Said I was his new family.” You sigh and shake your head, knowing you made mistakes. “I hope he doesn’t find me. I never told him where she was. I - shit - I have been so careful to not let him know where I am.”

“Well, you can get close to her now, repair that relationship.” He points out. “Abusers like to isolate their victims. Make them feel like they have nowhere to turn, no one to talk to about what they are doing.” He’s seen it before.

“I know that now. In the beginning, he made me feel so special. I felt so stupid for believing him. I didn’t - shit. I got away from him and I want to start again. I want to live and not feel like I am constantly triggered by my asshole ex.” You shake your head and take the mess tin from his hand when he offers it to you.

“Look at you, talking shit out.” Joel teases softly, picking up the thermos to refill your coffees. “After fucking it out. You’re on the road to recovery.” He chuckles when you snort and roll your eyes, taking the cup back from him. “Shut up.” You huff and he nods. “When you eat your breakfast.”

You dig into the food, the sun making everything shimmer and it’s like the ushering in of your new life. “Thank you.” You say to him again and he shakes his head, “stop sayin’ thanks.” You chuckle and he winks at you, taking a bite of his eggs. 

**** 

“Thank-” Joel cuts you off with a stare and you close your mouth. You shift over in the cab of his truck, parked outside of the bar where your apartment is, and you reach up to cup his cheek. “If I can’t say it…” You trail off and lean in to kiss him. He cups your cheek, kissing you back, and you pull back after a moment, a smile on your face. “I had a good time. I’ll see you around hopefully?” You ask, tilting your head.

Nodding, Joel leans back. “Of course.” He smirks. “Coldest beer in town is served right under your apartment.” He teases. “And if I’m not showin’ up quick enough, you come out to the ranch. Even if I’m out, one of the boys can find me.”

“I’m sure I’ll see you in the bar.” You smirk and grab your purse to pull your keys out, realizing that you don’t want to wait too long to see Joel again. “Do you maybe want to come for dinner? I’m not working tomorrow night and I need to repay you for being so great.”

“You don’t need to repay me for anything.” Joel huffs. “But dinner sounds good.” He agrees. “Seven sound good?” He figures everyone will be done with the fence lines then and he’s not moving cattle between pastures. Only thing he was thinking about doing was going to an auction to see about some sheep.

You smile, “see you tomorrow at seven, handsome.” You get out of his truck and shut the door, walking up to the door that leads to the apartment above the bar. You turn to see him watching you and you offer him a small wave before unlocking the apartment and disappearing upstairs.

Joel sits in his truck for another minute, ignoring the few cowboys that are milling around in the parking lot before he puts the truck in reverse and backs out. He needs to go talk to Tommy, because he has a feeling that your ex will show up. You’re too good to let go of that easily.

You shower and change, getting ready for the rest of the day. You decide to head out and get some groceries for dinner tomorrow night. You do some laundry and sleep the day away, exhausted after Joel fucking you hard, until you open the bar for the night. It's an uneventful night but Jerry seems to treat you with kid gloves as you serve the locals. The next morning, you are excited to see Joel again and you head downstairs to the bar to clean up and take the cash to the bank. You're mopping the floor when you hear the door open. You could've sworn you locked it. "Hey. We’re closed!" You call out and turn when you don't hear the door close again. 

"I think you can make an exception for me, honey." You inhale sharply, spinning around to see Josh. "What - how - you're-?" You choke, heart pounding in your chest as your ex husband stands in front of you. He's found you. You shake your head, dropping the mop, and you run towards the bar to get the phone. 

"Ah ah ah. I don't think so. We need to talk." Josh rushes towards you, grabbing your arm, and you cry out. Shouting for help as he tries to physically restrain you. You fight, slapping and scratching him, but he jerks your body. "You stupid bitch. Thought you could run away. You will never be rid of me." He hisses and you scream, spinning around to hit him but he side steps and you fall forward, hitting your head on the bar. You crumble to the floor and your head pounds as Josh stands above you. "You are mine, baby." He reminds you and you wince as your eyes close, wondering what will happen to you now.

It’s not yet seven, but Joel had finished up early and decided that he could stop by and get a bottle of wine to bring, like he had good manners. He had thought that if you were too tired to cook after working, there’s a dinner that has a good meal. Or you order a pizza and call it good. He’s not that picky. Parking around back, he frowns slightly when he notices a van but he doesn’t think twice as he gets out and climbs up the stairs to your apartment to knock.

Your head lolls, pounding from the way you hit the edge of the bar, and you barely register that you have been tied to a chair. A rag wrapped around your head and covering your mouth to stop you from screaming. Your eyes widen when you gain more consciousness when the doorbell rings and you scream against the gag. "Don't be rude, honey. I bet that your auntie coming to say hello. Interfering old cunt will get what's coming to her. She should learn it is wrong to come between a man and his wife. Fucking old hag trying to take you away from me." Josh huffs, walking over to the door to open it and he is shocked when he sees a man, not your dear old aunt.

Joel’s eyes narrow and he tilts his head as he says your aunt’s name. “She’s not here, is she?” He asks, holding up the bottle of wine. “Told her I’d bring her a bottle the next time I was in town.” He’s got a good fucking idea who this bastard is, but he can’t give it away right now. Josh scoffs. “She’s not here.” He rolls his eyes and Joel nods, seeing a leg of a chair and a leg tied to it. He smiles blandly. “Well, I’ll try again next time.” He tells Josh. “Sorry to bother you.” He tips his hat and feigns turning to leave as the bastard closes the door.

Tears stream down your cheeks as you hear Joel leave. Part of you is relieved that he’s not involved in this, the other part feels hopeless as the only person who could save you leaves you. You sob against the gag and Josh comes over to you. “You must think I’m fucking stupid.” Josh hisses, “some guy comes to the apartment with wine and asks for your aunt? Seems too fucking suspicious. He was looking for you, wasn’t he? Goddamn. I turn my back for a minute and you’re already sitting on some other guy's dick. Jesus Christ. I married a whore. A useless fucking whore.” He strides over to you and slaps your cheek, making you gasp against the gag in pain.

Joel stomps down the steps noisily but then he’s creeping back up, trying to look in the window when he hears you cry out and a dark hiss. “I should just fucking kill you, you useless slut. We’re married!” You cry out, the sound muffled, as he hears a sharp slap. Joel clenches his jaw, knowing that he should call the Sheriff, but he would rather deal with this fucker himself. Lowering his shoulder, Joel slams it against the door, breaking through it and launching himself at your estranged husband.

Your eyes widen, full of tears as Joel drags your husband down to the floor. His fists immediately hitting his face and Josh kicks him to try and get him off. “You motherfucker!” Josh growls, “fucked my wife and-” Joel hits his jaw and he cries out in pain.

Joel sees red, looking up and seeing your panicked eyes, the swelling on your face. He climbs on top of Josh and pulls his fist back. Slamming it into the fucker’s nose to break it and from there, it’s just hit after hit. Blow after blow as Joel beat him unconscious.

You can't do anything but watch. Eyes wide as you witness Joel beat your husband to unconsciousness. You cry out against the gag, not wanting Joel to be arrested for killing your husband. He doesn't deserve a prison sentence when he has Ellie.

When you cry out again, you break through the rage fueled haze that Joel is in. Stopping before the last blow is delivered and he pants, dropping Josh back to the floor where he was holding him up by his shirt. The man’s head hits with a thud and he climbs off of him to pull out a knife. “I’m going to cut you out of there.” He promises, not wanting to spook you after you’ve obviously been tormented by your ex. “I’m going to get you out of here, pretty girl.”

You are breathing heavily as he cuts your ties and removes your gag. You swallow, your throat dry, and he helps you stand on shaky legs but you collapse, the fear draining your strength. “I got you.” Joel promises, wrapping his arm around your waist to help you stand up. “I- he - shit.” You finally choke out, “he found me.”

“It’s okay.” Joel promises you. “He’s not gonna hurt you ever again.” You choke out another sound, almost like you don’t believe him but Joel doesn’t say anything. Instead, he helps you towards the door. “Come on, pretty girl, we need to get you out of here.”

You let him guide you down the stairs on your shaky legs and you are struggling to breathe when the cool night air hits your face. “Hey. Hey. It’s okay. It’s me. It’s Joel. Just breathe.” He orders, cupping your cheeks, and you inhale deeply, trying to calm down.

Joel can see that you are trying not to break and he scoops you up, carrying you over to his truck. He opens the door and sets you in the seat. Pulling out his phone, he dials a number. “Tommy.” He grunts when the other end picks up. “Get the boys from my ranch and meet me at the bar.” He tells him. “We’ve got a critter needs disposed of.”

Your hands are shaking as you listen to Joel summon his brother and you aren't sure what to think. Josh threatened to kill you, Joel saved you and nearly beat Josh to death. "Are you - are you going to kill him?" You ask, "he's not worth jail time. I'm not worth jail time."

“Don’t worry about that.” Joel doesn’t want you to worry. He reaches out and cups your cheek. “Listen to me.” He tells you carefully. “He will never bother you again. Ever. You don’t have to look over your shoulder, you don’t have to be scared. You will never see him again.”

You nod, swallowing harshly as he settles you in his truck. "You - shit - you saved me." You murmur, surging forward to wrap your arms around his neck and breathe him in. "You saved me. He - he was gonna kill me."

“It’s okay, pretty girl.” Joel promises, wrapping his arms around you and squeezing gently. “You don’t have to worry any more.”

You breathe him in and relax knowing he's got you. "Your hands." You murmur, bringing his arm from around you so you can inspect the broken skin. "You need to bandage these." You realize that this is what he means by his demons, his method of coping. You want to take care of him like he took care of you.

“It’s okay.” He winces when you press on a knuckle, sure that he’s fractured it. But it’s only a hairline fracture. “I’ll take care of it later.” He’s more worried about you. “Do you need a doctor, pretty girl?”

You shake your head, "no. No. I- he didn't do anything more than bruise me. I'll heal." You promise and Joel nods, "I'll bring you back to my place after my brother arrives." He tells you and you nod, "okay. I- I just want to get away from him."

Joel knows that it won’t take long for Tommy to get there and he pulls out a blanket from the back. It’s an old horse blanket but it’s clean. Draping it over your legs, he pats your knee and sighs. “I’m sorry I didn’t come sooner.”

You shake your head, "you saved me. If you hadn't - I don't know what he would've done. He wanted to take me home and I think...he would've killed me." You choke, "you arrived just in time."

“I wouldn’t let that happen.” He promises, knowing he would have tracked that motherfucker down. He pulls back when he hears the truck pull up and turns to see Tommy jump out. “Let me go talk to my brother.” He murmurs softly.

You inhale deeply, trying to calm your racing heart. You watch in the wing mirror as Joel speaks to his brother. "What the fuck happened, man?" Tommy asks, seeing the state of his brother's fists.

Joel glances down at his hand and shakes his head. “Her ex found her.” He gestures back towards the truck. “He had her tied up in her apartment. I busted in.” He explains. “He’s unconscious upstairs.”

"You want me to - to get rid of him?" Tommy asks, tilting his head. "Don't - I mean, I nearly fucking killed him but she stopped me. Just get him the fuck out of here. Maybe drop him off at a hospital in Denver?" Joel suggests and Tommy snorts, "away from here. Got it." He nods, whistling to the boys to follow him upstairs. You look up as Joel gets into his truck, starting the engine. "Thank you, baby." You murmur, watching him as he pulls away from the bar.

“They’re going to make sure he knows to never come near you again.” Joel explains. “Next time he comes to Jackson, he will be a dead man walking.” If the man ever showed his face again, Joel would personally put a bullet in his head. “For now, I’m taking you home. You’re staying with me.”

You look out the window as Jackson passes by, the town turning to fields and you try to think about how Joel saved you, not about what he saved you from. When he pulls up outside of his house, you open the door but he's already there to help you out.

“Here we are.” You are shaking slightly and he knows that you are about to freak out. “Get inside and we’ll have a drink. Or three.” He moves you gently and speaks softly. “Get you cleaned up. You want to soak in a bath? Damn tub is good for when you’re sore.”

"A bath sounds amazing." You confess with a soft groan. He escorts you inside and when he shuts the door, you break down. Now that you're safe, you start to sob and wrap your arms around yourself.

Joel panics slightly, shuffling slightly and moving towards you before he stops. “I- I don’t know what you want me to do. Can I touch you?” He asks softly.

You nod, knowing he isn’t Josh. The fact that he asked about touching you makes you calm down a little and his arms immediately engulf you. You nuzzle your face into his chest, breathing him in. He saved you. He’s not Josh. He saved you. This is Joel.

Joel reaches up, caressing your head gently. He doesn’t speak, just holds you close and rocks you gently. Letting you break down like you need to, just keeping you safe while you work through your emotions.

You aren’t sure how long you sob into his chest. His hands caressing your back, and you soak his shirt. “I’m sorry, I - shit. I need - I don’t want to cry about that fucking asshole anymore.” You shake your head, wiping your eyes with the back of your hand.

“You needed to get it out.” Joel grumbles softly. “Now how about that drink and bath?” You nod, sniffling and he nods too. “I’ll get you the drink.”

“As long as you get in the bath with me. You need to soak those fists.” You say and lean in to kiss his cheek, “come sit in the bath with me, baby.” You order, wanting to feel him surrounding you.

“Go start it.” Joel smirks, looking at you softly. “I’ll bring the drinks. We can have a drink in the bath. You relax and then I’ll put you to bed.”

You don’t waste time heading to his bathroom and turning on the water. You are exhausted now after everything that has happened and you pray that Josh will no longer be a problem. You want to file for divorce as soon as possible. Finding the bubble bath shoved deep in the cabinet under the sink, you pour a good amount in and start to strip, ignoring your face in the mirror. You don’t want to see what he did to you.

Joel decides that the night calls for full drinks, getting the juice glasses out of the kitchen and pouring out most of the bottle of whiskey between them. Carrying them upstairs and watching as you sit in the tub. “Here.” He holds one out to you. “Best sleep med I’ve got.”

You take the glass from him, sipping the liquor and you wince at the burn while he sets his drink down and starts to strip. “You wanna get in behind me?” You ask, shifting forward to allow him the room to get in the bath.

Joel grabs two towels and drops them by the tub before he steps in. Hissing slightly at how hot the water is. Apparently you wanted to sit for some time, so he cups his cock and balls before he sits down, needing to protect them from the sudden temperature change. “You like it hot.” He huffs and he settles down and pulls you back against him.

"I do. Sorry." You murmur as you lean back against him, sipping your drink before you set it down on the edge of the tub. You close your eyes as his arm wraps around you. "I can't thank you enough for this. For everything."

“I was going to kill him.” Joel admits quietly. “For hurting you. For fucking touching you.” His arm is draped over your stomach and his thumb brushes your hip gently. “Already alerted the sheriff that I would.” He chuckles quietly. “He told me to just make sure a bear found him before anybody else.”

"Sounds like a good sheriff." You chuckle before you swallow, "you were going to kill him for me? Baby...I- I've never known a man like you. I know we just met but I really like you, Joel. I want to stay in Jackson and I want to get to know you more. Know Ellie. I - I like you a lot." You confess, "I am damaged goods so I'm not sure if you want to deal with all that shit."

“You aren’t any more damaged than me. Than the kid.” Joel snorts. “You stay right here and get to know us. See if we don’t drive you crazy in two days.” He teases. “I’ve got plenty of shit that I’ve dealt with, helping a pretty girl cum and giving her a shoulder to lean on ain’t much of a problem to me.”

You grin, turning your head to kiss his jaw, “thank you. I would love to get to know you both. I want to stick around and make a life here.” You murmur and he turns his head, softly kissing you. “And I wouldn’t mind you making me cum a few more times.”

He hums against your lips, twitching against your back but he doesn’t start touching you. He wants to make sure you are in control of what happens right now. “You just tell me when, pretty girl.”

“Now.” You murmur, wanting to feel him inside of you. You want to make him feel good and you want to know that you’re safe in his arms. His lips meet yours, spurred in by the adrenaline of beating up your husband, and you shift to straddle him after setting your drink down on the ledge.

Joel would never take advantage of you, but he will give you what you need. Squeezing your ass as you grind down against him, “you want to cum, pretty girl?” He asks roughly, kissing down your jaw and pressing his tongue to an abrasion on your neck.

You moan, tilting your head for him, and you reach between you to grip his cock, pumping him between your bellies. “I’m on birth control. IUD. Want you to - want you inside of me. If you want.” You tell him breathlessly, moaning his name as he squeezes your ass.

“Fuuuuck.” Joel groans out, jerking his hips up in your grip. “I don’t mind that.” He murmurs, flicking his tongue against your pulse. “‘m clean. You just take what you want. Sit on my cock if you want it.”

You reach down to position him at your entrance, you slowly sink down onto him and he groans, his hands caressing your waist and back. “Fuck. You feel so good.” You pant, “saved me. Saved my life.” You murmur, starting to rock on top of him.

Joel groans, squeezes and caresses your ass and up your back as you work yourself on his cock. “You’re safe.” He grunts. “Not gonna let anything happen to you.” He doesn’t know why, but he’s attached to you, protective. Perhaps it’s crazy, but he would have killed for you.

His words wash over you, making your heart thump, and you caress his cheeks, leaning in to kiss him. It's crazy but you feel so comfortable and safe with him, like you've known him your entire life. He feels like home. "Baby." You gasp when he thrusts up into you, the water sloshing in the tub.

“It’s okay, baby, I’ve got you.” Joel tightens his hold on you, not hard enough to hurt you but to take over. He takes one arm and slides it down to rub your clit. “You want to cum? You want to cream all over my cock? Feel like you are flying?” He grunts into your skin, face buried against your neck.

You nod, a cry escaping your throat as he rubs your clit, thrusting up into you. “Fuck, Joel. Yes. Yes. Right there.” You choke when he thrusts into the right spot. His hips focus on that angle, making you choke as he pushes you higher and higher until you fall apart with a squeal of his name. The water splashing on the floor as you convulse around him.

Joel groans your name, kissing your neck and along your shoulder as you ride out your high. Slowly rolling his hips as the water settles around you both. “Good, pretty girl?” He asks, smirking slightly when he hears you still panting. “Or you need another one?”

You tangle your fingers in his hair, dragging his face to yours to press your lips against his. Your tongue invades his mouth and he eagerly responds to your invasion, groaning softly. “I want one more. I’m greedy for you.” You confess, rocking down into him.

“Haven’t cum yet.” Joel leans back, cupping your tits in his hands as he squeezes them gently. “Use me, pretty girl.” He commands. “Ride my cock and rub your clit.”

You can’t deny him. You shift back to rock onto his cock, water sloshing as you gasp his name and rub your clit, rocking back onto him a little faster. His dark eyes watch you, flicking between your tits and where his cock disappears inside of you.

“That’s it.” He groans, twitching inside of you. “That’s it, pretty girl. You’re so good to me. Feel so good around my cock.” He praises. “He was a fool,” he grunts, squeezing your tits again. “Shoulda worshiped you. Taken care of you. You’re a prize to appreciate.”

His words wash over you, cleaning off the harsh insults of your husband and replaced by his praises. You clench around him and he groans, leaning in to kiss along your shoulder, and you rub your clit a little faster, wanting to fall apart for him.

Joel groans and hisses your name, feeling his own body start to tense, but he doesn’t want to cum yet. Not before you do again. “So fuckin’ tight.” He moans.

His moan works you up, making you bounce on his cock and the water splashes over the side of the tub. “Fuck. Oh fuck, baby. I’m gonna - you’re gonna make me-” You squeal as you fall apart around his cock, soaking him as you shudder through your orgasm.

Joel doesn’t let up this time, taking over and thrusting up into you. Groaning out your name as he starts to cum, hips stuttering as he gives in and buries himself deep. Painting your walls with hot ropes of his cum.

You whimper at the feel of his hot seed coating your walls and you tangle your fingers in his hair, bringing his mouth back to yours. You’re so thankful he saved you. In more ways than you know right now. He saved you from your husband and he saved you from yourself. 

**** 

“Ellie. Keep up!” Joel yells over his shoulder at the teenager who decides to join you for your sunset ride. After Joel beat your husband up, he brought you home and after you were settled, he left to the place your husband was being kept. You don’t know to this day what he said to Josh but the next thing you knew, your divorce papers were filed. You managed to live in peace in Jackson, getting to know Joel more, getting to know his family. You’ve fallen for the rancher and you moved into his home a month ago, your aunt telling you to go for it. You were wary at first to take such a big step but you are happy you did. You love Joel and Ellie. Your family. The divorce came through last week, so you're officially a single woman. 

“She’s fine. She won’t miss it.” You tell Joel as you ride alongside him, trotting down to the river to watch the sunrise and have breakfast.

Joel grunts, shifting in his saddle and glances back at the girl before looking at you again. “She’s a pain in the ass.” He huffs, making you laugh. 

“You always say that.” You point out, making him roll his eyes. He’s been looking forward to this for a while. You have been happier, brighter, since the divorce came through. Happy that you can fully move on with your life and not be tied to him in any kind of way. Joel looks over at you with a small smirk. “Still sore, pretty girl?” He asks, thinking about how hard he had fucked you last night.

You chuckle, “nothing I can’t handle, cowboy.” You wink at him, “gotta be able to take what you give me.” You shift on the saddle, loving the slight ache in your body. He makes you feel loved, desired, even if he doesn’t say it often, you know how he feels.

“Good.” Hopefully you mean that. Since you’ve been here in his life, Joel’s been happier. Smiling more. Looking forward to the time where he’s back at the main house and spending time with you and Ellie. Not that he hasn’t enjoyed time with Ellie before, but the three of you feel like a family. He urges his horse faster. “Come on, or we are going to miss it. It’s a special sunrise.”

You follow him, Ellie behind you, and you arrive at the river just as the sun is about to appear over the horizon. Joel dismounts his horse, helping you down and then he helps Ellie down, tying up the horses. You grab the saddle bags and carry them over to the edge of the river to the rocks you usually sit on. Joel comes to sit next to you, opening the saddle bag to pull out the flask of coffee, handing it to you and he hands Ellie her flask of juice. She hates coffee. “I never get tired of this.” You murmur, resting your head on his shoulder.

“Hope not.” Ellie knows what’s coming, he’s talked to her about it. Enduring her teasing and jokes even more than usual in order to make sure that she’s okay with the potential change. Joel sets his hand down on your free one and threads his thick fingers through yours. “Hopin’ you might want to stay.” He confesses quietly and pulls out a small velvet box from his jacket pocket. He had felt like a fool going into the jewelry store, but Willie’s wife had told him that you would love it. “Forever. Watch the sun rise with me until we are too damn old to get up here.” You pull away and look into his eyes in complete shock. “Love you, pretty girl. Will you marry me?”

Your heart pounds in your chest and you swallow harshly, throat suddenly dry but fuck, you are so in love with him. He's proven to be an incredible partner. Treating you as an equal, both of you damaged but understanding of the other. You feel like you're home when you're with him. No matter where you are. "Ye-yes. Yes. Oh my God. Yes." You choke, surging forward to press your lips to his just as the sun rises. His hand cups your cheek until he pulls back, fumbling with his thick fingers to take the delicate ring from the box.

"I hope you like it. Didn't know your style." He confesses as he slides it onto your finger and you stare at the diamond in awe. "It's perfect. This is perfect." You promise and Ellie comes over to hug you, "just make sure you guys don't put me in some frilly dress for the wedding." Ellie jokes and you giggle, tears in your eyes as you pull her close and Joel wraps his arms around you both. Your new family. You never imagined when you were trapped in a loveless marriage that you'd be happy one day yet here you are, engaged to a wonderful man with a step daughter you adore. Just like the sun rising over the horizon, your life is bright and colorful and full of hope.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

All In 1

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, power imbalance, low self esteem, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: you meet a mysterious man on a night out with your sister. (petite!reader)

based on the winning option for this poll

Characters: casino owner!Bucky Barnes

Note: told myself to slow down, didn't.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

It’s your first time wearing that skirt. You’ve had it in your closet for two years. At least. You’re not really a skirt person but it’s cute. The floral on black with the zipper up the front. It drapes nicely enough though you’re not used to wearing anything so short. You have a trusty pair of shorts on just in case. 

You don’t go out either. Definitely not to places like this. You keep an arm across your middle, gripping your other as the hordes of people make you dizzy. The shining gold accoutrement of the decor along with the waft of low music over the noise of tables and voices add to your vertigo. 

The casino is busy and bright and loud. You stay close to your sister as she leads you across the carpet; ivory with golden curliques patterned across them. You’re no gambler either but you’re not there to play cards.  

“I think it’s upstairs,” Roxie says as she looks at the tickets in her hand. “Gala Room B.” 

“Oh, right,” you murmur and smile at her, “what’s the band again?” 

“Don’t worry about it the tickets were free,” she chirps as you look up at her. You feel even more a child beside her; your height often adds to your inferiority complex. Historically, you think, those characteristics have been often intertwined. 

“No, but--” 

“You need to get out of mom’s place more,” she chides, “I could’ve brought Katie instead, but I chose you, sis.” 

“I know, er, thanks,” you run your hand up to your shoulder and rub it nervously. 

“Show doesn’t start for another hour. Let’s get a drink,” she insists and turns, strutting towards the long bar at the other side of the grand space. You trail after her, shrinking down even further. She turns back to you as she leans on a tall stool, “what d’ya want?” 

“I don’t know. I don’t really...” 

“I know, it’s one drink, how about a vodka-cran?” She suggests, “you love cranberry.” 

“Um, sure, if you think that’s good.” 

She sighs and rolls her eyes. She’s the wild one, not you. You know you bore her and since your parents’ divorce, years ago, you haven’t really hung out together. She went with your dad and you with your mom, since then, it’s all been a bit fuzzy. 

She orders as you stand back, not wanting to get in the way of the people all around you. You lean back, rocking nervously as you glance around. You feel underdressed as you see women in cocktail dresses and men in suits. Even your sister is a stark contrast to your overly casual attire; your favourite purple cardigan and the skirt you’ve never worn. 

Your eyes scan the room, admiring the golden sconces of bulbs that resemble candelabras and the gilt trim all along the wall. The more you look around, the less you belong. You don’t even know why you said yes. Well, your mom pushed you into it. Just like your sister, she keeps saying you need to get out more. 

You rub your lips together and feel around your small tassled purse. It’s used, like most of your things. The thrift store is as much as your mom can afford and you still haven’t found a solid job. You worked at the grocery for a summer before they laid off half of you then did a one-day stint at a polling centre for the last municipal election. Even if you wanted to go out, you don’t have the money for it. 

You pull out your chapstick and smear it around your chafed lips as you sway back the other direction. You stop short as you nearly slam into another body and you stumble out of the way of the man in his black-and-white suit. Embarrassment creeps hotly up your cheeks and you cap your lip balm and stand out of his path. 

He’s taller than you. Well, everyone is. But to you, he seems huge. His suit is finely tailored to his figure though his hair seems to clash with the refined style. It’s almost to his collar but neatly parted, a shank falling forward to frame his sharp cheekbone. His square jaw is trimmed thickly with a dark beard, peppered with strands of silver and patch along the dimple of his chin. You’ve never seen anything as blue as his eyes, they are almost inhumanly vivid. 

“Sorry, doll,” he touches your arm as he passes and smirks, swiftly turning his sights ahead of him. 

You gulp as your shoulder hits someone else. You spin to face your sister as she offers you a glass. You take the red concoction with the short black straw sticking out over the ice cubes. You thank her as the chill seeps into your hand. 

“Oof, look at him,” she leans to watch after the man in his dark suit, “damn.” You frown and look in the other direction. She scoffs and nudges you, “come on. That guy is totally stunning. Even you can see that.” 

“I don’t wanna gawk at him,” you mutter, “he’s a stranger.” 

“Oh, whatever, not like he’d notice,” she snips. 

You scrunch up your lip and tuck your chapstick away as you peer toward the man. He goes up to a table, sliding in next to a taller woman with honey-blond hair and a shimmery dress. He rests his hand along her lower back as he chatters to her and the rest of the players around the leather trim. 

“Sheesh, he’s fine,” she puts a twang on the last word, “mmph. If I wasn’t with Tom...” 

“Right,” you look down at the drink and sip from the straw. You make a face and cough. 

“It’s not that strong,” she slaps your back, “don’t be dramatic.” 

“I know,” you clear your throat, “I just wasn’t expecting the taste.” 

“Let’s go upstairs,” she points above. 

“Uh, okay,” you agree to her sudden diversion. You suppose you really are boring. 

You follow her up the curved stairs and along the railing that overlooks the lower casino room. Arched windows let in the night and the glow of the facade. You lean on the polished wood and peer down at the first floor; it looks even more resplendent from there. You sister puts her elbow on the railing as she looks around. 

“We could stick around after, lose some money,” she says. 

“I don’t... mom only gave me a twenty and I owe you for the drink.” 

“Pfft, whatever, I’ll spot ya. Tom gave me some extra with the tickets,” she trills, “it’ll be fun. Play some black jack. It’ll be an experience. You could say you’ve actually done something.” 

You smile, closed-lipped and tight. She isn’t wrong. It’s your first concert, for some cover band, and your first time at a casino. It’s not an exaggeration to say this is the height of your life experience. 

Your eyes wander down and meet another pair. You wince. It’s that same man. He walks towards you, a certain swagger in his stride. As he peers up at you, his cheeks dimple and he winks. You wrinkle your brow and look behind you. When you turn back, he’s gone. Right, you’re imagining things. 

Roxie slurps as her straw turns hollow. She’s already drained her cocktail, meanwhile you’ve barely taken a sip. She stirs the ice and hums. 

“Wait here, I’m gonna get a refill,” she raises her glass. 

“Oh, I can come with you--” 

“Nah, just stand here,” she insists. “You’ll just slow me down.” 

“Sure, uh, okay.” 

You curl your shoulders inward as she walks away. Great. All alone. You avoid looking anywhere but your glass. You face the railing again and balance your drink on it. It’s not bad, tarter than you’re used to and a little burny.  

You play with the black bracelet around your wrist, the band they stuck around it when they scanned your ID at the door. You suppose it’s a good idea but they wouldn’t be letting kids in here, would they? Oh yeah, the hotel is attached. 

As a kid, you never went on vacations like that. No hotels, no casinos, no shows. It seems like Roxie is catching up on all of that and you’re just there. The world is so much scarier when it’s all a mystery to you. 

“Excuse me,” a deep voice startles you. You ignore it, thinking it’s merely a passerby, “miss?” 

There’s a tap on your shoulder and you barely save your cocktail from spilling over the edge. You clutch the glass with both hands and face the stranger. It’s that same man, with the suit and the long hair and the oceanic eyes. Something about him is familiar beyond your few earlier glances. 

“I think you dropped this?” He holds up a chip with a golden 100 on it. You blink and shake your head. 

“No,” you scrape out of your throat, “I don’t-- I didn’t--” 

“I swear I saw it fall out of your bag,” he looks down at your purse. 

“Really, I’m not... I don’t gamble.” 

“Ah, well, if it’s just hanging around, might as well use it, huh?” He keeps his hand out, “maybe it’s your lucky day.” 

“I couldn’t. If someone lost it...” your voice doesn’t want to go and he leans in to hear you, adding to the heat spreading through your chest. Is it the alcohol or him? 

“You’re sweet, keep it,” he shoves the chip toward you. 

“Please, I... I... can’t...” you wipe a hand on your skirt and clutch the fabric. 

“Doll, I can’t hear you,” he says as he grabs your hand and dislodges it from your skirt, “here.” 

He presses the chip into your palm. You stare at his tie then look down at the white chip with gold detailing. His hand brushes yours before he rescinds his touch. 

“Erm...” you murmur dumbly and shake your head. 

“My treat,” he growls. 

“But...” 

“Like the skirt, by the way,” he surprises you as he pinches a fold, “cute on you.” 

Just as quickly as he appeared, he strides away, leaving you blankly staring after him. His broad shoulders move beyond a thick marble pillar as you hold up your drink and the chip. You just look between them. 

“Hey,” Roxie approaches again, “oh, what’s that?” 

“A chip...” you state plainly. 

“Duh, I know. Where’d you get it?” 

You look at the floor. Would she even believe you? “The floor.” 

“Ooo,” she plucks it from your fingers, “awesome, “now we’re definitely having some fun tonight.” 

“Rox,” you swallow and look up at her, “we should hand it in. It’s a lot of money. If someone lost it--” 

“If they lost it, they can afford it,” she bobs her neck as she speaks, “live a little,” she sneers and taps your glass, “and finish your drink. Maybe that’ll loosen you up.” 

You nod and recede into yourself, cradling the glass again with both hands. You put your lips to the straw and drink until you can’t anymore. She gulps straight from the brim of her glass and sighs, wiggling as she peers around. 

“I almost don’t even want to see these old men play music,” she snickers as she takes in the expanse of tables flashing lights. 

“Oh?” 

“Relax, we’re going to see the show. You’re a horrible liar and mom will see right through you,” she sneers, “besides, I told her I wouldn’t get you in too much trouble.” 

[ughdontbeboring]

bunny

Ari Levinson X Black/WoC Reader (can be read by anyone)

You’re the new bartender at Ari’s club and tonight you’ve had enough with how the other women treat you but don’t end up fired like you feared.

warnings: Ari lol. Sex. Bullying. Insecurities about weight. Fat shaming.

note: I still have love for Ari but this is the only thing I’ve finished for Ari and probably won’t be writing anything new for him either bc of other hyper fixations taking over my mind 😂 but I hope yall enjoy it and all its errors bc I’m too lazy to fix them. I’m trying to empty out the fics in my notes so the range of characters I’ve been stuck on over the years is crazy 😂 this has been in my notes a month shy of a year 🙃

also reader is always written with a black/woc perspective but no actual description in this one other then weight.

The cool air danced over your exposed skin, working for a night club meant the exposure was necessary. It attracted customers and that usually meant you got good tips. You didn’t mind, you enjoyed finally having a reason to wear pretty things all the time. 

You wasn’t even sure how you got into your current situation, you had been sitting across from your boss’s desk crying. You were so embarrassed when the tears started. Ever since you started the night club the other women working made your  life hell, at first you thought it was initiation but it prolonged week after week. Next week making 4 months you’d been on the clock here and every day you worked was a day you had to deal with their bullshit, they were by far worse than the male customers that tried getting handsy. At least the male customers got dealt with and thrown out. 

Apparently the club really never had much issue with the bartenders getting pushed up on, only the dancers, but when you started that changed. You thought your boss would fire you for the problems it caused at the bar but he just added security around the bar, adding a strict rule about the behavior at the bar and towards bartenders. Mostly you. 

You had ignored the gossip that it was especially for you, that the boss has some fondness for you. It wasn’t true, it couldn’t be. All the beautiful skinny women running around you knew he sure as hell wasn’t interested in you. Yea, you knew you were beautiful, you had eyes you could see your face but you were fuller, more plump than any other woman here. That alone lead you to believe you couldn’t be his type, no other women who looked like you worked here. Didn’t that mean something? 

You was surprised you even got the job, your potential boss did nothing but glare at you while the interview went on. He also told you dancing was off the table for you, but it had to be because you didn’t look like the other women. You were so hurt but did your best to not show it. You needed that extra money dancers got not believing you would do well fully clothed. Who did?

But you were wrong. The men drooled over you so much so the women complained about all the men being at the bar instead of their tables. Which meant you got great tips and more tips than usual since the men wanted to get their own drinks instead of the dancers bringing them to their tables. Men wanted to be around you. 

Through out the long nights you’d always catch your boss glaring down from his offices floor to ceiling windows. It was remote controlled, he could black out the windows when he wanted or have them clear so people could see him. It made your stomach flip at the thought he had wanted you to see him staring. 

Sometimes he’d have you personally bring his drinks up, which caused the men to groan with displeasure at your absence or he’d end the night by coming down personally for his drink when making inventory lists and everyone was gone and the cleaning crews took over. He’d always tip well. So well you didn’t have to work the rest of the week if you didn’t want to, but you did and saved your money like the plan called for. On nights you had the courage you’d asked him questions, simple questions as he sat across from you at the bar.  “How was his day” and such. He’d humor you with short polite answers, a smirk playing on his lips at your failure to hide your nervousness and arousal. You’d always have to clench your legs when you’d finally hear his voice usually for the first time that night and see that smirk. 

Ari Levinson, God he was a menace and the only person in the world you’d let call her some cutesy silly name like Bunny. 

You felt his presence tower over you and your mind finally caught back up to the present moment. You were in his office because one of the other women finally pushed you to the breaking point. You was embarrassed that something to stupid could finally get you to react. 

“What happened Bunny?” He husked while sharp blue stared down at you. 

He was so close, too close, you could hardly focus. You wiped away a stray tear before taking a deep breath. 

“It was nothing” you stuttered out, avoiding eye contact.

“It wasn’t nothing you broke her nose baby, now Bunny I won’t ask again” his voice was demanding but without malice.

You breath hitched as your eyes found his, storm blue ones raging. Though you totally misread it. What you miss took for anger because you let yourself believe the lies was Ari’s control hanging on by a thread. 

You contemplated lying to him.

“Don’t” 

Your eyes widen. Ari had to suppress the groan that fought it’s way up his throat at the sight before him. There you stood, eyes puffy from crying, lips red and swollen from nervously biting them, your teary eyes wide. Fuck that’s how Ari wanted to make you look but because of the pleasure he could no doubt provide. 

“She..she..uh.. she said you only hired me because you felt sorry for me and you would never touch someone as fat as me” you whispered, face hot with anger as you pushed some of curly hair behind your ear. 

As much as it pissed Ari off he couldn’t help the little happiness he felt at the fact that out of all the things he knew the women did to you, that made you react. Yes Ari knew about the way they treated you, this was his club he knew everything, hell he knew everything as he should about is his city. But Ari had wanted you to come to him, maybe it was selfish but he wanted you to need him. 

“And I’m sorry I shouldn’t have reacted that way! It’s just been a lot with them! But please I’m sorry I really need this job and it pays so well I can’t afford to lose it!” 

Ari stared at you while you word vomited in front of him. He was a little disappointed in himself for not thinking of it that way, that you wouldn’t cause a sense or make trouble by asking for help because of how much you needed the job. 

He shook his head at you as his hand grabbed your face softly, his thumb stroking your cheek.

“Shh Bunny, calm down, it’s ok” 

You were too shocked by the gentle caress to really hear his words. 

“That’s not true, not at all” he said.

“It’s not?” You asked not completely convinced, your doubtful eyes searching his.

“No it’s not Bunny” he answered before stepping forward and truly caging you between him and his large oak desk, his hips rolling forward so his heavy hard erection pushed into your silk covered soft belly.

“Don’t you see what you do to me Bunny?” His deep voice groaned wreaking havoc on your nervous system. You gasped at the feel of him.

Of course you suspected he was large but feeling him, it, so strong and heavy against you was something your imagination could never come up with. You could cum just from him rutting into your soft belly. 

Your hand flew to his shoulder to steady yourself and the other to get balance on the desk.

“Their just jealous baby because from the moment you walked your pretty little ass in this club I hardly given any of them a glance” he whispered as his lips ghosted up your jaw to nibble your ear. 

You clenched your thighs as you groaned in his ear. 

“And Emma, well she’s just mad because the last time I did fuck her” he stopped before pulling back to watch your face, you had went ridged under him, your face tight with anger. He continued before you could say something. 

“I called her your name while I came on her” His voice was deep and needy as he confessed to you, some how his thumb had made its way into your mouth pressing down on your tongue while he watched your face. He realized he seemed to love doing that, watching your reactions.

You were slightly angry with yourself for being so turned on. You should be mad he was talking about fucking another women, yet you weren’t. You wanted more than anything to feel what Emma felt but to know it was you that he wanted and it was you he was getting.

“If you want me to stop bunny and I will, just say the words” he told you seriously as he pulled his thumb from your mouth awaiting her answer.

As sure of himself as he was there was still that nervousness deep down in his stomach you would say no. Turn him away because of who he was and what he did. He knew you, had been watching you since you started and you were a good girl, everything he wasn’t. 

But you didn’t. With your eyes locked on his, you opened your mouth licking up the underside of his thumb before pulling it into your warm mouth to suck.

And fuck did Ari think his fucking knees would buckle. 

“Good girl” he replied trying to pull himself together. He was about to cum all over your stomach. 

It earned him a moan around his thumb.

“Now tell me what you want Bunny because if you want me then there is no one else, I do not share” he was serious, he had wanted you from the moment he saw you. Tried to keep you away because of his line of work but he was too selfish a man, he could only hold out for so long. 

You released him with a pop.

“I want you and I want everyone to know especially Emma because neither do I” you said finally showing a more confident side.

Before you knew it his mouth was covering your and he had you on the desk, your skirt lifted and thong covered ass chilled by the cool wood while your legs wrapped around his waist. 

Fuck you couldn’t believe he kissed this good, you didn’t even want to come up for air. 

At this point both your legs were up, ankles sitting on his shoulders, high heel clad feet dangling in the air. Your skirt tucked up around your waist so he could see everything. 

He needed to see everything. He fucking dreamed of this many of nights. 

His cock was free, long and hard. He ran the under side of it between your folds and up over your mound. Over and over again driving you wild as he collected your wetness. 

“Oh fuck Ari please” 

“Please what Bunny?” 

“Please please fuck me!” You whined.

Your body stilled at the intrusion, he was kissing you, running his hand up and down your body, pinching nipples trying to get you to relax just a bit more, he knew he should have worked you up more but he was past that, he had no control left, you were ready enough. 

“Fuck” he groaned out appreciatively once he pushed slightly into you, your gasp ringing out in his ears as your natural manicured fingernails cut into his back. A pain he welcomed. You were so tight, tighter than he could ever dream of and wet, so fucking weak. You were already leaking on his desk. 

A wet dream come true.

It was a few moments and thrust later you started to relax and Ari could really work into you.

“Oh fuck” you moaned out, both hands gripped the edge of the desk while his hands dug into you full round ass cheeks, your bottom hung in the air. Ari the only thing truly keeping you suspended. He loved this position because of how much control he had.

You couldn’t even get your brain to truly function, you’d never been fucked like this. He was fucking you like his own personal toy and he was so so deep. 

Because you weren’t functioning you had never noticed the call he made on his intercom, you didn’t notice the door open behind him, never noticed the blonde staring furiously at the sight before her.

Ari balls deep into the pretty little bartender she hated so much, who got special treatment from the most fear man in the city, the man Emma wanted more than anything. Hell any woman who crossed paths with the blue eyed giant wanted him. 

You didn’t notice until Ari leaned forward pressing into you completely causing you to scream out. Your fingers digging into his back once more, at this angle it was too much, you didn’t understand how he could feel deeper then he already was. 

There she was eyes locked on them, her face red with anger and embarrassment like you had been not to long ago at her hands while she held tissue to her bleeding nose.

Ari cursed, the tightness of you too much, your wetness dripping down his sack and thighs.

“Fuck bunny, tight wet little pussy is daddy’s favorite, you gonna let daddy come in you?” He groaned out feeling both of your ends near. 

Your eyes stayed locked on Emma as your fingers gripped his short hair.

“Oh fuck yes daddy! Please come in me! Fill me up” you moaned out. 

You was sure the whole club could hear over the music and you couldn’t care less.

Your body shook and your eyes roll back as that sweet feeling set her body on fire, Ari stilled after a few hard thrusts that cause his heavy desk to scrape backwards before he roared emptying himself into you.

You squealed as another orgasm slammed into you, the feel of his hot seed sending you catapulting into another one. Your eyes blurred as tears flowed from the pleasure.

When you opened your eyes Emma was gone. You both were breathing heavy when Ari used his hips to thrust you up on the desk a bit more. 

“Oh fuck” you yelled out feeling completely overwhelmed and overstimulated by his softening cock still buried deep inside you.

His hands grabbed your face, blue eyes locking yours in place. 

“Looks like I finally caught you bunny”. 

[imamotherfuckingstar-lord]

imagine sanji realizing he loves you

The sound of his boots hitting the pavement rang in the air as Sanji walked alongside Nami; he was holding her shopping bags as a few of the others pressed ahead. Cigarette forever perched in the corner of his mouth, he listened as Nami rattled off a list of things she still needed to purchase. Usually he'd love being the navigator's little errand boy but lately, even that felt flat.

His eyes focused on the back of your head, hair down and unruly as always. You were walking between Robin and Zoro, leaning into the latter a bit as you had just left a tavern. Sanji had kept a close watch out at the bar, cutting you off after a few drinks but he smiled as Zoro brushed you off and Robin steadied you with two helpful hands.

"You're always staring at her, Sanji and not in that perverted way."

The cook stopped in his tracks and Nami smirked, reaching for her bags in his hands. He wanted to feel his heart racing with her so close, looking so beautifully but he felt a familial warmth and it shocked him. "Nami..."

She smiled contently. "It's okay, you know, to just love one woman. I think you picked a really good one! She loves you too, but she won't make the first move. She's too stubborn for that."

Stunned, he could only stand there as Nami hurried along - calling for him to follow. He snapped out of his own thoughts of what he was feeling, what he felt every time you looked at him and he rushed after his friends. He reached the group and casually motioned for Robin to let you go. He gracefully slipped an arm around your waist and when your head moved to see who was holding you, the biggest smile appeared on your face. Nami mentioned loudly that she needed to do more shopping and Robin, wholeheartedly, agreed to join her while Zoro followed with promises of a new bottle of sake.

"Where's everyone going?"

Sanji smiled as you leaned against his body as he adjusted his arm around your waist. "Shopping, but I'm taking you back to the Sunny. You need sleep."

"Sleep sounds nice..." you threw an arm around his neck and your whole body collapsed against his strength. Sanji chuckled as he lifted you up into his arms, holding you tightly against his chest.

Nuzzling your head against his shoulder, you murmured something so quietly he had to ask you to repeat it. You sighed as he continued to walk, effortlessly carrying you in his arms. "I said you are a very nice man, Sanji. Sweet....and the best cook in the world. I wish..."

Sanji stopped, gaze casting down on you; he smiled when he felt that intense thumping in his chest. The beating of his heart in a rhythm that felt like a song he had never heard before and when your eyes met his, it felt like his heart shattered and in its place, a new one formed.

"I - I love you."

The expression on your face softened and Sanji relaxed. "You might not remember this, but when you're sober, I'll tell you again."

"I won't forget," you promised, reaching up to pluck out the cigarette in his mouth. He grinned when you tossed it aside and leaned in for a kiss. He kissed you softly, pressing his forehead against yours.

"I love you too...but I really need to get some sleep."

Sanji laughed, agreeing as he continued down the path back to the ship. You told him you could walk but he refused to put you down - the love of his life wasn't going to walk a step if she didn't have to. He said so with pride in his eyes and who were you to deny him such a thing?

Relaxing in his arms, your eyes remained on him as he talked about what he was going to cook for dinner and as he rattled off different recipes, you realized listening to him talk about cooking felt like a soft lullaby. When he asked what you thought, you could only smile at him.

"Whatever you cook will always be good, Sanji."

The boyish expression of joy and delight painted his face wonderfully against the setting sun, and the two of you continued the journey back to the ship knowing everything had changed in a matter of minutes. Sanji and you were going to embark on the Sunny together, and every time the two of you stepped off the great vessel - it would be together.

"Can we kiss later?"

The question from your unsober mouth brought out a low laugh from Sanji and he nodded furiously, pressing a kiss onto your forehead. "As long as you want, but you have to get sober first."

"Black coffee than, okay?"

The cook agreed, the Sunny in the distance. He inhaled the fresh air and reminded himself to thank Nami later because if it wasn't for her, he'd never have the courage to tell you how he felt. Lemon bon bons, he'd make her that but not before getting some coffee and food in you - because from here on out, you were his first priority.

"Come on, sweetheart," he murmured, eyes smiling down on you. "Let's get you some coffee."

"Thank lots of kissing?"

Sanji grinned. "Oh, so much kissing."

[sordidmusings]

WIP TUESDAY - Sugar Daddy Headcanons with Shanks and Garp

Saw Schoute's wonderful art WIP and writing and wanted to join the fun! Have some ridiculous Blorbos as Sugar Daddies headcanons that have been on my backburner LOL I've got Shanks and Garp ready for y'all 🫡 They're pretty much done, I moreso have to fill out everyone else on the list 🤡 No warnings really! Just some allusions to spice but nothing explicit. Lots of silliness. I believe they're gender neutral but I'm going to tag as afab just in case because I fear it may be in the subtext since that's the perspective I wrote it from and the one people generally expect for sugar babies. Might be fun to subvert sometime by writing them with explicitly amab sugar babies. I will Ponder lol I'd also love to see what everyone is working on so please take this as a sign to post something of your own!!

The song I blame for everything (I love u Thot Squad):

“This fine old man, he played three

He can knickknack this coochie

With an Amex black card, get a girl a Benz

Reset and do it again”

Word Count: Shanks ~750, Garp ~400 (sorry about the favoritism Vice Admiral 😬)

Shanks

shanks absolutely pursued this type of relationship with you

Your pretty face and open smile snagged his attention but the way you easily met and fed his energy had him at you like a dog with a bone

He’s no stranger to helping people laugh their way into his bed, but the journey with you felt different. He took extra time simply because each moment with you was too good to keep from savoring

You didn’t hide your attraction at any point but he did appreciate that you would try and prod back at him in good humor to test his will and want

You found he had both in excessive abundance

It felt nice to have someone so attractive, established, feared, and adored seek your company and watch him become more interested with each minute he got of you. It also felt nice to see that while he certainly had an abundance of confidence he held no arrogance with you - he played no games in making you question his interest or to assert his importance to you. He treated you as a person (one he mainly wanted to turn to his bedroom tenant but still-) and it made him feel more like a man than a myth for you both too

And holy hell did you like that man - he made you laugh even if at his own expense, he impressed you when he’d let some of his cunning slip through the jovial pirate shtick, he kept your interest with how he could entertain any topic you brought forward, he made you feel beautiful with the way his eyes and hands soaked you in, and he made you feel wanted with the way he treated everything about you with genuine interest. 

The only thing that made it better is how he made sure you wanted for nothing. The first night it was making sure you didn’t pay a cent for anything, you always had food and drink right before you realized you wanted it, his coat found your shoulders the moment you felt a chill, you found yourself in fresh air right when the heat and the noise of the bar became too much. 

After that it was an endless stream of trinkets, from priceless to silly but sentimental, all coming with letters that had you laughing, blushing, and swooning.

Every time he’d visit you (and it was at first as often as he thought he could manage but that managed to get even sooner and sooner because of his need for you) you’d indulge in each other like it was the first and last time

He stopped wanting anyone else - there were enough people across the seas he had to apologize to after explaining why he’d gasped the wrong name and they were never right to scratch the new insatiable itch he had anyway

When it dawned on him how much you had him wrapped around your finger, not just physically and financially but also mentally, emotionally, and he’s pretty sure even spiritually, he may have had a crisis (the crew was very torn between amusement and true wory watching it unfold, especially when the usual rum and patented Beckman Shoulder Pat with Nod didn't ease his turmoil)

It wasn't because he didn’t want to love you, but he truly never thought he’d ever find someone he wanted and needed the way he does you. It was such a foreign concept to him that he felt like the world had tilted and left everything slightly unfamiliar. Especially coming from a relationship he stapled together with riches. Sure, there was also joy, camaraderie, and intimacy holding it together, but he found it harder to trust that someone such as you wouldn't find someone younger and more present to belong to than to trust that you could need him to sustain a lifestyle of ease and abundance.

If he couldn't be sure you'd want him, he'd try and find solace in you needing him, even if it was only for what he could afford you

When he finally told Beckman of his plight, he was slightly offended by the “it took you this long to figure it out?”

He’s currently trying to figure out how to convince you to live on his ship with him. He needed to let you know you’d be safe regardless of your experience level with the seas or battle. 

He’d bring the world to its knees if anything touched a hair on your head

Luckily for him, you knew. Anyone with eyes would from the way he smiles at you.

Garp

Garp was decidedly not in your plans. Yes, you wanted someone older, someone with wealth, someone with influence, someone who would take care of you, but you thought Gilfs were an urban legend told to see what face it would get out of freshies

You’re not complaining tho

He has certainly convinced you that the rarity of his kind just pointed to what a prized role it was to shack up with one

He was rough around the edges to be sure - brash and loud and stubborn - but he used all those traits to get you both exactly what you wanted

All your needs were met without you having to even think of them anymore (you were surprised that needs in the bedroom were included in that, but you supposed you shouldn’t have underestimated a man who could still punch apart battle ships, nor one with such a lust for eating)

Neither of you had any illusions of sweeping romance

You were more than happy with the care and respect that built between the two of you in your roles, growing with each act of service to each other, each piece of comfort, each unintended moment of vulnerability

Don’t get me wrong, the vulnerability ain’t common; most of your time is this man having fun watching you light up when he took you out and tossed his money around for you before taking you home to have multiple courses of dessert

You’ll never get over his gruff voice and curling accent - they helped your brain turn to mush while he coaxed and praised you through happily giving him everything he wants as a thank you for all his care

That voice along with all that burliness and age, which you thought would’ve been a turn off not on, ended up making you feel small yet so protected

Garp didn’t think he’d enter a relationship like this that went on so long and so easily but any reservation or second guessing was lost the moment he saw you and everything just felt natural

Tho he’d still make jokes that always make you groan about how you keep him young better than his troublesome recruits (that he is stuck between wanting to parade you around to see their jaws drop and wanting to keep you hidden away from any young bucks who may try to get your attention before he’s ready to let you go)

Thank you for reading 😘🤍🤍

Masterlist

[bijouxcarys]

Prove It (Roman Reigns x fem!Reader)

Masterlist

Description: They work together, they travel together, they're around each other almost 24/7. So, why is it so damn hard for them to be alone when they need it? Oh, that's right... it's a secret.

Warnings: NSFW, MINORS DNI, smut, fingering, dirty talk, semi-public escapades, Roman being a lil menace, secret affairs, fluffy undertones...

Word Count: 4.6k

A/N: I have used everyone's real names (apart from where Sasha references Ambrose). The superstars included are Roman, Becky Lynch, Seth Rollins, Dean Ambrose/Jon Moxley, Sasha Banks, and Liv Morgan.

Tags: @trippinsorrows @empressdede @thetribalqueen (if you'd like to be added to the tag list for any future Roman fics, just let me know in the replies/reblog!)

The door to the hotel room swung open, a chorus of laughter and chatter spilling out into the hallway. It had been a gruelling week on the road, and the whole lot of them were ready for some much-needed relaxation. Thankfully, a majority of the rooms down that particular hallway were occupied by WWE Superstars, so noise complaints were a slimmer chance than usual.

Using her and Gionna’s hotel room as a gathering spot wasn’t on Y/N’s to-do list, but when conversation struck up in the car about having a night of relaxation, to let go a little, Gi was more than eager to offer up the room. That was Gi for you; more like her Liv alter ego than even she cared to admit.

Not that Y/N was mad of course; these people were practically family.

“Someone get the drinks?” Gi called out, scrunching her nose up to push her clear-framed glasses further up as she plopped down on one of the beds, her blonde hair splayed out behind her.

“I got ‘em, relax,” Colby replied, holding up two six-packs with a grin. He cracked one open and handed it to her, settling onto the floor next to Jon, who was already mid-story.

“So, there I am, right? Middle of this tiny-ass town, and I can’t find the damn gym anywhere,” Jon was saying, his voice animated. “GPS is telling me I’m there, but I’m lookin’ at a freakin’ cornfield!”

“Classic Ambrose move,” Mercedes laughed, shaking her head as she leaned against the wall. “A terrible sense of direction.”

“Hey, it’s not my fault! Technology hates me,” Jon shot back, taking a swig from his beer.

Leaning over the group from her place on the bed, Y/N accepted a can from Colby, her eyes involuntarily capturing those she knew would be hard to refrain from the entire night. Gazes locked with the man standing just behind where Colby sat, arms folded; his tank top allowed for a perfect view of his tensing muscles under the gorgeous tan of his complexion. It was a look that spoke volumes—intense, secretive, and heavy.

Considering the close-knit nature of the wrestling world, it was an impressive feat that Joe and Y/N had managed to keep their affair under wraps.

“Who knew we’d all end up here tonight?” Mercedes said, her voice cutting through the din as she reclined on the floor, back pressed against the side of Gi’s bed.

“Yeah, thanks a bunch for lettin’ up the room, Y/N,” Becky added, raising her bottle of water in a mock toast.

“Don’t be thanking me, thank Barbie over there,” Y/N nodded towards Gi, who simply shot a thumbs up in her direction as a response. “But yeah, I mean it’s nice to have a moment to just… be.”

“Amen to that,” Joe said, his deep voice rumbling as he grabbed a drink from the pack Colby brought.

Jon snorted from his spot on the bed. “Yeah, because being crammed into a tiny hotel room is so much better than our own rooms.”

“Hey, at least it’s free entertainment,” Colby retorted, tossing a pillow at Jon, who caught it with a lazy grin.

“Free entertainment, huh? Guess that makes you the clown,” Jon shot back, eliciting laughs from everyone.

“Better than being the guy who gets thrown out of bars,” Colby quipped, throwing his arm around Becky with a cocky grin towards Jon. Colby and Becky were truly in the throes of a honeymoon period. It was a task just getting him to own up to the fact that he liked Becky in more ways than one, so when they finally decided to screw everything and officially become a couple—PDA and all—it was a relief. Finally, the two people who practically pined over each other for at least a year, had gotten their shit, and themselves, together.

The night wore on with more stories, jabbing at one and other, and moments over the last week that were becoming fond memories. At some point, pizza boxes were ordered and devoured, and the room’s occupants settled into various positions of comfort—or as close to comfort as they could get in the cramped space. Joe had claimed a spot on the floor near Y/N’s bed, leaning back against the wall with a relaxed posture that belied what was going through his head.

“Man, I could get used to this,” Mercedes said, stretching out on the floor. “Better than passing out alone in my room.”

“Yeah,” Becky agreed, earning an offended glance from Colby. “We should do this more often, is what I’m sayin’, babe, relax.”

“Just as long as he,” Jon pointed directly at Becky’s boyfriend, “promises to keep his snoring to a minimum.”

“I don’t snore!” Colby protested.

“You absolutely do!” Gi pointed out, honestly scaring the crap out of everyone since they all just assumed she’d passed out across her bed.

Y/N found herself increasingly distracted by Joe’s presence. Every laugh, every shift of his body, every low rumble of his voice seemed to pull her attention like a magnet. She could feel his eyes on her intermittently, a silent conversation playing out between them that no one else in the room could hear.

“Y/N, remember that time we got lost tryin’ to find that diner?” Becky asked, breaking Y/N’s reverie.

“Oh my God, don’t,” Y/N laughed, recalling the memory. “We ended up in the middle of nowhere, and you were convinced we were gonna end up on an episode of Unsolved Mysteries.”

“I was being cautious!” Becky protested, lifting her hands up. “You never know with those back roads, they’re frickin’ dodgy!”

“That’s why I always use GPS,” Joe interjected smoothly, and deeply, sending a wave of chills over Y/N’s body, though she did a damn good job at hiding it.

“Excuse me, did I not just tell you about my cornfield trauma as a result of GPS earlier?” Jon called out.

“You made it eventually, man, calm down,” Joe chuckled with a roll of his eyes.

As the night wore on, the energy in the room began to wane. Conversations quieted to soft murmurs and the occasional chuckle, as everyone started to feel the weight of the week on the road.

“Alright, I’m calling it,” Colby said, stretching out his arms and yawning. “I’m too beat to head back to my room. Mind if I crash here?”

“You can take the floor, Rollins,” Jon muttered from his foetal position in the armchair, his eyes half-closed. “Ain’t no way I’m movin’.”

“Yeah, me too,” Mercedes chimed in, curling up in a corner with a pillow Gi threw at her. “Too tired to move.”

Becky looked around at the group, her eyes landing on Y/N. “Looks like we’re all stopping in here. Hope you don’t mind, love.”

“Not at all,” Y/N replied with a smile. “It’s nice having everyone here, and I’m sure that one doesn’t mind.” She glanced over at Gi, who was already on the precipice of slumber.

“It is kinda nice,” Becky nodded. “Feels like a big ol’ sleepover.”

“Except with more muscles and less gossip,” Colby quipped with an amused chortle.

Joe had stuck to the spot on the floor near Y/N’s bed. He glanced up at her as she climbed into the sheets, their eyes meeting once again in the dim light.

As the others began to settle in, finding whatever space they could to lay down, the room slowly descended into a comfortable silence. The soft hum of the air conditioner and the occasional rustle were the only sounds that broke the silence.

Y/N laid back against her pillows, her thoughts drifting. She felt Joe’s presence nearby like a physical touch, a comforting and exhilarating reminder of their secret. She turned her head slightly, catching his eye in the dark.

“You okay?” Joe whispered.

“Yeah,” she whispered back, her lips curving into a smile. “You?”

“Better now,” he murmured, his gaze lingering on her face.

Her pulse quickened. They were surrounded by their friends, all blissfully unaware of the silent conversation happening right under their noses. The thrill of the secrecy only made the moment more intense.

“Think they have any idea?” she asked in a hushed tone, her eyes twinkling with mischief.

Joe smirked. “Not a clue. We’re good at this.”

“Guess we are,” she replied, her heart pounding against her ribcage.

A quiet laugh escaped Joe’s lips, and he shook his head slightly. “You’re trouble, you know that?”

Y/N grinned. “You love it.”

“Damn right I do,” he said softly, eyes glued to her.

They shared a long, meaningful look, the best they could in the limited light. They both knew the risks of being discovered, but in that fleeting moment, it didn’t matter. They were together, and that was enough.

“Night, Y/N,” Joe whispered, his voice barely audible.

“Night, Joe,” she replied, equally as gentle.

With a final lingering look, they both turned away, settling into their respective spots. The room was filled with the quiet sounds of their friends, but for Joe and Y/N, the silence couldn’t be louder.

She woke up around 3am, the room shrouded in darkness save for the faint glow from the streetlights outside. She shifted slightly, trying to get comfortable, when she felt it—his gaze. Slowly, she turned her head and found Joe propped up on one arm with his phone in his hand. His face was illuminated only by the device.

Seriously? You couldn’t have just stayed asleep? She thought to herself, a mix of amusement and frustration bubbling up inside her. Here they were, in a room full of their sleeping friends, with Joe looking like a whole meal doing the bare minimum. The absurdity and excitement was so much for her to handle.

She gave him a pointed look when he finally took a peek over in her direction, her lips quirking up in a half-smile when he noticed she was awake.

“What are you doing awake?” she asked as quietly as she could.

Joe’s lips curved into a slow, lazy grin, with a bashful undertone. “Couldn’t sleep,” he practically mouthed, his eyes glinting with mischief.

“Sure,” she rolled her eyes. “You just want to make this night more interesting.”

Joe shifted quietly on the floor, his movements careful and deliberate. He glanced around the room, ensuring everyone else was still sound asleep, then slowly moved to sit up. Y/N’s heart raced as she watched him, every nerve in her body on high alert.

Sliding onto the bed beside her, he moved with a careful grace that belied his size. The mattress dipped under his weight, and he settled beside her, his body warm and solid against hers.

She bit her lip, trying to suppress a giddy giggle that threatened to escape. “We’re gonna get caught one of these days, you know.”

He brushed a stray lock of hair from her face, his fingers lingering for a moment longer than necessary. “Maybe,” he conceded. “But that’s what makes it fun, right?”

“Oh yeah, tons of fun,” she replied sarcastically. “Nothing like the thrill of getting caught by our friends to spice things up.”

Even the darkness couldn’t prevent her from seeing his pearly white grin. “Admit it, you love the risk.”

“Maybe I do,” she admitted with a gentle sigh, relaxing into his warmth as his hand slid up her arm, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake.

They laid there for a moment in the snore-filled room. The tension was palpable, a taut wire strung between them that could snap at any moment.

“So, what’s the plan?” she whispered up at him.

“Plan?” he echoed, feigning innocence. “I was just thinkin’ we could enjoy each other’s company.”

She rolled her eyes, positive that her cheeks flushed a deep pink, and despite the darkness, covered her face with her hand anyways. “You’re terrible.”

“And…? You love it, babygirl,” he shot back, his hand moving down to rest on her hip, fingertips teasing the space between her tank top and her shorts. “Remember that time we almost got caught in the locker room?” he asked with an audible smirk, his calloused thumb tracing circles on her exposed skin. “You nearly blew our cover with that yelp.”

“You’re the one who made me jump!” she protested, swatting him lightly on the arm.

He laughed softly, a rich hum that sent sparks straight to her core. “Sure, blame it on me.”

“You really don’t think anyone suspects anything?” Her question came as a small mumble, lost in the shadow of his form practically hovering over her at this point. And he was so close to her. She could feel light tickles from his beard on her cheek.

“Nah, baby,” he confidently reassured her. “We’re too good at this shit.”

“Famous last words,” she chuckled, though she couldn’t help the grin that spread across her face.

He leaned in closer, his lips brushing delicately against the shell of her ear. “Don’t worry. I got this.”

“Yeah?” she challenged, sliding her hand up to rest on his shoulder. “Prove it.”

With a smirk, Joe shifted, rolling over so he could press his body entirely on top of hers. The bed creaked slightly, and they both froze, glancing around to make sure no one had woken up. Satisfied that their secret was still safe, they relaxed.

“What was that about ‘I got this’?” she lightly scolded, emulating his voice the best she could in her whispered tone.

“Shh…” With that, he pressed his lips down against hers, the hand that rested on her hip coming up to hold the side of her neck. He kissed her with a hunger that spoke of all the nights they had to keep their distance, the desire that had been simmering just below the surface finally boiling over. She returned it with equal fervour, trailing her fingers up to his man bun and feeling where the couple of hours being laid down had taken a toll on its usually pristine quality.

“Take this out,” she mumbled against his lips. “I like when your hair’s down.”

He didn’t need to be asked twice. It was a relief to take it out, to let it fall down and create a protective shield around their faces as he went back in for another kiss. It deepened, tips of tongues prodding against each other until they were fully entwined in an intense dance. Her hands roamed over his broad shoulders, feeling the ripple of muscle beneath his skin, the same way Joe traced the contours of her curves with a reverence that made her feel like a Goddess.

“God, I’ve missed this,” he breathed out in a gravelly whisper.

“Me too,” she admitted.

They were lost in each other, the world outside their bubble of desire forgotten. Joe’s hands slipped under her shirt, the heat of his touch against her bare skin making her gasp softly. He paused, his eyes searching hers in the small beams of light from outside, asking for silent permission.

She nodded, her breath hitching as his hands continued their exploration upwards. He pushed the fabric up, exposing her round breasts to the cool air and his heated gaze. Following the path of his hands, Joe’s lips made a tender journey down her neck, nipping and sucking lightly, before they stopped at her chest. Pressing kisses to her skin. Tip of his tongue tracing slow patterns along it until one of her hard nubs made contact. Thick lips wrapped around, kissing and suckling like he’d never get to again. Branding possession and desire.

“Joe,” she whispered, her voice trembling with need.

“Shh, we gotta be quiet, sweetheart,” he reminded her, words muffled against the supple skin as he moved to pay the same exquisite attention to her other breast. “Don’t wanna wake the others.”

The reminder of their precarious situation only added to the intensity, causing her to unintentionally roll her hips up towards his. His hands were everywhere, mapping her body with a familiarity that was both comforting and thrilling. Her own hands were just as eager, exploring the hard planes of his chest. His heart pounding beneath her palm, a mirror to her own racing pulse.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured against her skin.

She smiled, a flush of pleasure spreading through her at his words. “You’re not so bad yourself, big guy.”

He chuckled softly, the sound vibrating against her. “Glad you think so.”

Coming back up to her lips, she barely had time to readjust before his long, tepid fingers slipped under the fabric of her shorts and her panties. Another sharp gasp escaped her lips, internally cringing at how loud it was. God forbid, if anyone actually knew what they were doing…

“Easy, baby. Just let me take care of you.”

The pads of his fingers stroked over her slick folds, gently… teasingly. A moan rose in her throat, causing her to clamp her teeth down on Joe’s lower lip to suppress the sound.

“Damn, baby, you’re this wet already?”

“Yes,” she managed to breathe as he pressed heated kisses down the side of her neck. His middle fingers teased the smooth surface of her tiny, sensitive pearl, and she once again was forced to keep her noises to a minimum.

“Good girl,” he praised her efforts, rewarding her by pressing his fingers down firmer, further, until they slipped inside her with a smooth, practised motion.

The sensation was almost too much to bear. She clung to him, her nails digging into his bare shoulders as he began to move, digits sliding in and out in a slow and calculated motion. God only knew he wanted to finger fuck the shit out of her, but he knew that would cause unnecessary noise and a climax too short lived.

“God, how you always feel this good?” he groaned softly.

She whimpered, biting her lip to stifle it. His fingers curled upwards in their movements, pressing closer to her sweet spot. Driving her wild. Coiling her pleasure. Tighter. And tighter.

“Look at you,” he peered over her writhing form in awe. “So gorgeous… so ready for me, huh?”

Her response was a tight grip on the back of his head.

“Tell me what you want,” he whispered hotly against her neck. “Tell me how you want it.”

“M-more…” She pathetically sighed. “Please, Joe…”

He chuckled softly, feeling a familiar twitch between his own legs. “Anything for you, doll,” he obliged happily, fingers picking up speed and his thumb finding her clit easily to glide against it in tandem with the rhythm he had curated on her body.

A gasp, an arch, a flutter around his fingers, and he knew. “Feel that?” he whispered in a seductive, dark purr. “Feel how close you are?”

“Yes,” she nodded. “Oh, God, yes…”

“Atta girl,” he cooed down at her, propping himself up on his arm and pressing his forehead down on hers. “Cum, baby.”

Noticing her characteristic shudder, the way her eyebrows furrowed when a release was approaching, he took the initiative to manoeuvre his free hand to cover her mouth, baring down enough pressure for her to bite onto it as she rippled and arched into him. Her cunt throbbed and tightened around his fingers, and he watched with parted lips as she came so hard.

“That’s it,” he murmured in a soothing rumble. “Just like that…”

As she came down from her high, twitches and aftershock present, he carefully withdrew his fingers. He pressed a soft kiss to her temple, his hand smoothing over her hair. Another kiss came quickly, but not without Joe taking an expert taste of his own fingers, where Y/N’s honey coated him with a thick sheen. She tasted herself as he swirled his long tongue around hers, hand stroking back his hair to thread her fingers through the dark tendrils.

It was almost sad, kissing him in that moment. The way she gripped onto him as though she was solidifying how he felt in her mind, capturing the memory; they never knew the next time they’d get to be together.

“Joe…” Y/N whispered. “I need you… so bad.”

“I know, babygirl,” he sighed, peppering small kisses along her jaw. “But as much as I’d love for you to nut on this dick right now, it might be wiser to wait ‘til I can have you alone.”

She whimpered impatiently, making Joe stifle a laugh by burying his face in her neck. “Don’t make me laugh,” he murmured, clearly grinning.

“I’m not trying to…” she giggled softly, biting her lip. They really just did that, in the same room as their sleeping friends. Damn. “Fuck, Joe, we’re totally gonna get found out soon if we keep this up.”

“Yeah?” he asked, lifting his head to gaze down at her. “Ain’t nothin’ wrong with that, baby.”

“Yeah, I’m sure everyone would love to know that you just fingered me a metre away from their sleeping bodies.”

“They will know if you don’t keep it down,” he chuckled. “That bein’ said, we should probably try and get some sleep, huh?”

Y/N frowned, but reluctantly nodded, knowing he would have to leave her bed and return to his spot on the floor. “Where are we heading in the morning?”

“Uh,” Joe hummed, carefully pulling himself back up into a seated position. “Atlanta, I think.”

“Sit next to me on the bus?” she half-asked.

“You sure you wanna do that? Y’know… considering we’re ‘totally gonna get found out soon’?” He sent her a cocky smirk, silently moving himself back to the floor. She rolled over to the edge of the bed so she could still see him. 

“I don’t care… I’ve missed you,” she told him earnestly. It was true; they really hadn’t seen as much of each other lately, which is ironic when you consider the fact they were currently on the road. It just meant eyes were on them more than usual. 

With an understanding exhale, Joe reached over and held the side of her face, stroking over her cheek with his thumb. “I’ve missed you too, baby.”

“So sit with me tomorrow, please,” she practically begged, leaning into his touch.

“I’m not sayin’ no, am I?” he answered with a soft laugh. “Now, go to sleep, ‘kay? It’ll be more suspicious if we’re both tired.”

“Yes, Dad,” Y/N playfully retorted, rolling her eyes.

“I’ll remind you you called me that, as well.”

“I’m sure you fucking will, Big Dog.”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Morning crept into the room with the soft glow of dawn filtering through the thin curtains. The peaceful quiet of the night gave way to the gentle sounds of stirring bodies and muffled groans of discomfort.

“Ugh, my back,” Jon complained, rolling over on the cramped armchair. “Why did I think sleeping on here was a good idea?”

“Because you’re an idiot,” Colby mumbled, pulling Becky closer to him. “Pass me that pillow, will ya?” Becky groaned, grabbing the pillow that had fallen off Gi’s bed in the middle of the night, and flinging it back in Colby’s direction.

Gi, still half-asleep, rolled over and bumped into Mercedes, who let out a sleepy groan. “Move over, you bed hog,” she muttered, her voice muffled by the pillow she hugged tightly.

“When did you get there?” Gi mumbled, squinting her eyes as she searched for her glasses somewhere in the bed, realising she must have passed out with them on. 

“When I decided the corner was too damn uncomfortable,” Mercedes bluntly responded.

Y/N slowly opened her eyes, the events of the night playing on a loop in her mind, extended into a pleasurable dream. She sat up, eyes adjusting to the daylight as she surveyed the room. No Joe, just a messy blanket and his balled up jacket from where he had slept. 

“Ahh!” Mercedes let out a yelp as the hotel door began to open, almost hitting her in the process. “Oh, it’s you—what the fuck, man?”

“Sorry, didn’t realise your stupid ass was standin’ in the way,'' Joe's sleepy, but cheery laugh echoed as he emerged, shutting the door behind him. He’d changed his clothes, now wearing his grey shorts and a hoodie, and his hair was back to its pristine nature, perfectly slicked back into a bun.

“Where the fuck did you come from?” Colby strained his neck from the floor to look up at him.

“My room? We have rooms, guys, did you know that?” he nudged Colby with his knee as he attempted to sit up. His next stop was Y/N’s bed, where he placed her keycard down on the table beside it, giving her a small smile. 

“You took my key?”

“I’ve been awake for, like, two hours. Needed to get out for a bit, take a shower, y’know,” he shrugged, sitting down on the edge of the bed to collect his stuff from the floor. He made a point to brush against Y/N’s arm as he did, making her bite back a smile. “You sleep okay?”

“Mhm,” she hummed with a nod. “You?”

“Better than expected,” he said, sending a smirk over his shoulder.

Across the room, Colby struggled to stand, stretching his arms above his head with an exaggerated yawn. “Alright, who’s up for breakfast?”

“Count me in,” Jon said, finally rolling off the armchair and onto the floor with a thud. “As long as it’s not cornflakes.”

Gi sat up, her hair a wild halo around her head. “Can we get coffee first? I need coffee.”

“Coffee sounds so good right now,” Mercedes agreed, brushing her fingers through her hair and rubbing at her neck. “And a chiropractor.”

By the time breakfast was had and everyone had dispersed back to their own rooms, Gi and Y/N started the gruelling task of packing what little they took out of their bags and tidying the room of empty cans and pizza boxes.

“They could have helped us,” Gi sighed as she tried to clumsily shove a pizza box into a trash bag.

“Joe offered,” Y/N shrugged, working on picking up cans and any other scraps of trash. Gi glanced up at her, narrowing her eyes with a cheeky smile.

“Did he?”

Y/N met her gaze, raising an eyebrow at her friend quizzically. “Yeah, he did. But he still had a fuckload left to pack, so I told him we could handle it.”

“Oh,” Gi simply hummed, a grin spreading across her face, unbeknownst to Y/N.

Y/N tried her utmost hardest to avoid eye contact after that, knowing that if she looked at Gi for too long, it would be impossible not to spill everything that happened. And after complaining to Joe herself about the possibility of anyone finding out about them, it would seem somewhat counterproductive and ironic on her end.

When the pair was ready to leave, their WhatsApp group chat dinging with confirmations of the same, Gi leaned over to Y/N as she opened their door.

“Oh, by the way, Y/N, about last night,” Gi started.

“Yeah?” Y/N answered as she shut the door behind them, the two of them now standing in the hallway. She caught glimpses of fresh-faced superstars that weren’t in their room last night, who took more pride in their night routines on the road than anything else, greeting them from afar with a warm smile.

“The next time you and Joe fool about, make sure we’re all actually asleep before you do.”

[swiftiethatlovesf1]

What is this feeling? p.2

Heyy guys, here's part 2, if you've missed part 1 here it is.

I need your opinions, I thought of doing Max x Reader x Charles but I just love Reader x Max, do you want me to add Charles to the mix or keep it simple with Max??

If you want to read more stories of mine here's my masterlist.

The sun dipped below the horizon, casting the Monaco skyline in a golden hue as Kelly adjusted her hair for the third time that evening. She smoothed her dress and waited impatiently by the terrace where Max stood, casually leaning against the railing, scrolling through his phone.

"Max," she started, voice tinged with nervous excitement. "I was thinking, there's a party tonight. Charles is hosting, and it's going to be incredible. You should come."

Max looked up, the corner of his mouth twitching into a faint, polite smile. "Oh, yeah? Charles does throw good parties," he said noncommittally, slipping his phone into his pocket.

Kelly’s heart raced. "It would be fun," she pressed. "You and me, you know, we could—"

Max cut her off gently, though his tone was firm. "Why don’t you go with the other girls? Lily’s probably going, right?"

Kelly’s face fell for a brief moment, but she quickly recovered. "Lily’s nice, but I was hoping—"

Max waved it off casually, already turning his attention elsewhere. "Lily’s great. She’s close with YN, isn’t she? You should invite both of them. It’ll make it more fun for everyone."

Kelly blinked, confused by the sudden mention of YN. "YN? I don’t think she’s into these things. She’s not really… a party person."

Max shrugged, playing it cool. "She might surprise you. Anyway, I’ve got to go, but you should ask her." He gave a quick nod and walked off, leaving Kelly fuming.

Later That Evening

Lily knocked on YN’s door with an unrelenting grin. "You’re coming," she declared, holding up a dress she had borrowed specifically for her.

YN looked up from her laptop, eyebrows raised. "To Charles’ party? You know I don’t do those things."

"Which is why you should do them," Lily countered, pushing past her and holding the dress up against her. "Come on, when was the last time you let loose? Charles invited you, Max will be there, and… wait, do I really need to keep listing reasons?"

YN rolled her eyes. "Max is always there. What’s the big deal?"

Lily smirked knowingly but didn’t press. "Just come. It’ll be fun. And if it’s awful, you can leave early. Deal?"

The party was already in full swing by the time YN arrived with Lily. Music spilled out of Charles’ party, and the atmosphere buzzed with energy. YN adjusted the hem of her dress, already second-guessing her decision to come.

As they stepped inside, heads turned. YN rarely made appearances at events like these, and the surprise on everyone’s face was almost comical. Kelly, sipping her drink at the bar, narrowed her eyes when she saw Max’s reaction.

He was talking to Charles, his usual calm demeanor replaced with something more alert as his gaze followed YN across the room. Charles noticed immediately and smirked, nudging him.

“Well, look who decided to join the living,” Charles teased, striding over to greet her with his signature grin.

“You can thank Lily for that,” YN replied, her eyes scanning the room. “Where is she, anyway?”

“Probably convincing Alex to dance,” Charles said with a laugh. “Speaking of which—Max!”

Max looked up from his drink, his expression unreadable as Charles waved him over.

“Come dance with us,” Charles said, looping an arm around YN’s shoulders.

“I don’t dance,” Max said flatly, though his gaze lingered on YN for a moment longer than necessary.

“You’re so boring,” Charles teased before turning to YN. “Then it’s just you and me.”

Before YN could protest, Charles pulled her onto the dance floor, twirling her in a way that was equal parts elegant and playful. She couldn’t help but laugh, the weight of her usual guardedness slipping away under the pulsating lights.

As the song shifted into something slower, Charles spun her one last time before stepping back with a wink. “Your turn, Max.”

“What?” Max looked genuinely annoyed, but Charles had already slipped away, leaving YN and Max standing awkwardly in the center of the dance floor.

“You don’t have to—” YN started, but Max surprised her by stepping closer.

“I’m already here,” he muttered, offering his hand.

Cautiously, YN took it, and Max led her into a slow sway. It wasn’t graceful or practiced, but there was something grounding about the way they moved together, surrounded by chaos yet entirely focused on each other.

“You’re full of surprises tonight,” YN said, her tone teasing but soft.

Max smirked. “Don’t get used to it.”

Their eyes met briefly, and for the first time, the tension between them felt less like a wall and more like a bridge.

As the music picked up again, Max released her hand and stepped back. “Don’t let Charles drag you into too much trouble.”

YN raised an eyebrow. “And what about you?”

“I’ll manage,” Max said, turning toward the bar. But as he walked away, he couldn’t help glancing back at her, a faint smile tugging at his lips.

The night stretched on with laughter, music, and a little more dancing. For the first time in a long while, YN felt like she wasn’t just an outsider in the paddock but part of something larger—something fun.

And as Max watched her laugh with Charles and Lily from across the room, he realized that maybe, just maybe, YN wasn’t as much of an enigma as he thought. She was just... herself. And somehow, that was enough to keep him intrigued.

Even if he’d never admit it out loud.

@justaf1girl, @anamiad00msday

[alastor-simp]

Enchanting Lullaby - Insomniac Alastor x Sea Siren Reader

❥Summary: Everyone in the hotel knows that Alastor does not sleep, but what happens when he seeks you out and makes a request only you can provide for him.

❥Tags: Alastor x reader, sea siren, siren reader, insomniac, insomniac alastor, alastor does not sleep, fem reader

❥Notes: I am OBSESSED with siren songs. I find them so hypnotic and beautiful, so I wanted to write a story with a siren reader with Alastor. Wanted to give a shoutout to my friend ValerieWinks777 for helping me with this story. I recommend checking her out on Wattpad, she does amazing Alastor x reader stories.

Spending years in hell, forming unbreakable deals and ripping apart demons in his broadcasts have harden Alastor to put aside certain feelings and tasks, including sleep. Well, he used to sleep during the time when he was alive, honestly he is surprised he even could after all the horrible murders he committed. He didn't just decide one day that he wasn't going to slumber anymore, this change started slowly. Indulging gleefully in the wrath he enjoyed created new enemies, enemies he knew posed no threat, but the longer that list got, the less often he slept, as he rather stay awake and attack them head on if any of them even considered wanting to mess with the radio demon.

A couple days after the extermination war and rebuilding the hotel, it had gotten surprisingly more busy with new demons arriving to gander at the hotel, and possibly consider joining. Charlie had been working like a mad women, tending to make sure everything was perfect for the guests and also trying to lessen some of the workload on the others. She greatly appreciate everything that happened before, so she didn't want them lifting a finger with anything. Alastor, however, was not one to just stand there and not offer his assistance. He may still consider the hotel a bunch of wack-a-doo nonsense, but he has grown fond of Charlie and her beliefs, also considering how much of a gentleman he was, he wasn't going to let poor Charlie do everything herself. Charlie waved her hands in the air, saying profusely that it was okay and Alastor didn't need to help, but Alastor was persistent. "Ah ah ah. Charlie, my dear. As the facility manager of the hotel, it is substantial for me to offer my assistance. Now then! What humble tasks need to be dealt with?" Alastor said with a smile, as he bent down, putting his face closer to Charlie's. Charlie gave a sigh and small smile back to Alastor and told him of the assignments that needed to be done for today.

Alastor went about and began completing each task, stockpiling the drinks for the bar, making sure the rooms were all spick and span, obtain groceries for the kitchen and also prepare dinner for later tonight. Alastor had finally reach the end of the tasks and softly heaved a sigh. Performing small things like this was nothing to him, as he preferred to finish the job quickly and properly and not dwindle on it, but he had used a great amount of his powers to fulfill each one of them, causing him to feel more drained then usual. Alastor, for the first time, felt the need to take a good due rest, but he knew it wasn't going to be easy since it has been a millennium since he last slept. Pondering through his thoughts, he came up with an idea that could help him, as he made his way upstairs.

Knocking on your door, Alastor patiently waited, as the door to your room opened, with you standing on the other side of it, wearing your cozy pajamas. You looked up at Alastor with a smile, head tilted to the side. "Oh good evening, Al. Is there something you needed?" Alastor smiled down at you, showcasing more of his teeth. "Yes, my dear! I have encountered a bit of a dilemma and I need your assistance with the matter. Would it be alright if you could come to my chambers?" He observed your eyes glaze with confusion before you nodded your head, and walked out of your room, closing the door behind you. Alastor had hooked his arm with yours, as the both of you walked towards his hotel room.

Upon entering his room, you glanced around his room, admiring the pocket dimension he had created. It gave a calm tranquil vibe in the room, along with the static music playing from the radio in his room. Al had said nothing when the both of you had entered his chambers, and you wondered if he was displeased with something. "Um.... Am I in trouble?" You question him, twiddling your fingers together. Alastor quickly turned back around to face you, eyes widen before going back to normal, while a soft smile was placed on his face. "Heavens no! You are no form of trouble my dear, I can assure you. There is just something I need from you however." He walk closer into his room, removing his coat jacket and setting it on the chair next to his desk, revealing his red striped shirt that was hidden. He ventured closer to his bed, removing his black shoes before taking a seat on it while crossing his legs. His eyes went back up to look at you, extending his hand out, inviting you to join him.

Your face flushed for a bit, as you made your way over to where Alastor resided, taking a seat on his bed, facing him. The both of you sat in silence, before Alastor broke it. "If my memory serves me correctly, your demon form is similar to that of a sea siren. Am I correct, my dear?" He turned to face you, peering down at you while you looked at him. Your answer to his question was a small nod. "Splendid! That will be quite useful for me!" Alastor seemed almost giddy with joy, making you feel a bit confused. "Can I ask a question?" You asked Alastor. Alastor continued to stare at you, telling you to go ahead. "Why is my nature going to be beneficial for you?" Alastor eyes gazed into yours, as they were filled with confusion. Heaving a sigh, Alastor slowly grabbed your hand, giving it a soft squeeze. "As much as it pains me to say this, but I need your help, darling. I am aware of the soothing hypnotic voices of sirens, how there gorgeous songs allure sailors. I am asking you if you could sing for me, my dear." Alastor smile almost dropped a bit, his face holding a slight melancholic look as he continued to stare at you. You continued to look at him, before you asked him why you needed to sing to him.

Alastor heaved another sigh, rubbing his hair with his other hand. "It has been a drastically long time, since I have enjoyed the comforts of my own bed. However, falling asleep has not been an easy task for me, and along with the chores that I have completed for sweet Charlie. I crave a good rest now more then ever." Upon observing his face, you noticed the dark circles that appeared underneath his eyes. His smile as well seemed a bit forced, almost as if he was having a hard time keeping it up. Your heart ached for him, as you placed you squeezed his hand that was still holding yours. "I will help you Alastor, but there is something you have to do for me." Alastor raised an eyebrow at you, asking what it was that you needed. "Well, could you use your powers to soundproof the room? My siren voice may reach the others, and cause them to fall asleep as well." SNAP! Within an instant, Alastor had snapped his fingers, preventing any sound from reaching out the room.

With a nod of your head, you moved further back on the bed, waiting to make room for your transformation. A dark light enveloped your form, as your body became covered in black and white scales, and your legs had morphed together into a long mermaid tail, causing your pajama pants to slide off. Alastor continued to gaze at you in amazement, finding your form truly haunting while incredibly beautiful. Once you had completed your transformation, you leaned back against the pillow, raising both your hands up towards Alastor. Alastor stood stiff, confused at your actions. "Come here." you said, keeping your arms stretched out. Alastor realized what you meant, his cheeks become a tad flushed. "M-my dear, there is no need-" His words were cut off, as you pulled him down. His head had landed on your chest, as his whole body was placed on top of you, with his legs rested on your lower tail. Your arms wrapped around him, placing one against his hair, giving it a rub. "Shh its alright Alastor. I just want you to be comfortable okay?" Alastor hadn't moved when he was on top of you, apparently not use to actions like this. His body soon began to relax, as he nuzzled closer into your chest, moving his arms to wrap them around your back. His actions caused a soft smile to appear on your face, as you continued to play with his hair. "I'm going to start singing now, are you ready?" You looked down, waiting for his answer. Alastor peaked one of his eyes out from your chest, giving you a small nod. Giggling at his cuteness, you moved the hand from his hand to rub at his cheek, before placing it back on his red locks.

Taking a few deep breaths, you leaned your head back against the pillow. Soon, you opened your mouth, and began to sing.

(THIS SONG IS SO SOOTHING, I LOVE IT!!)

𝄞 Upon one summer's morning, I carefully did stray

Down by the Walls of Wapping, where I met a sailor gay

Conversing with a bouncing lass, who seemed to be in pain

Saying William, when you go, I fear you will never return again

My heart is pierced by Cupid

I disdain all glittering gold

There is nothing can console me

But my jolly sailor bold

His hair it hangs in ringlets, his eye as black as coal

My happiness attend him wherever he may go

From Tower Hill to Blackwell, I'll wander, weep and moan

All for my jolly sailor, until he sails home

My heart is pierced by Cupid

I disdain all glittering gold

There is nothing can console me

But my jolly sailor bold

My name it is Maria, a merchant's daughter fair

And I have left my parents and three thousands pounds a year

Come all you pretty fair maids, whoever you may be

Who love a jolly sailor that ploughs the raging sea

While up aloft in storm, from me his absence mourn

And firmly pray, arrive the day, he's never more to roam

My heart is pierced by Cupid

I disdain all glittering gold

There is nothing can console me

But my jolly sailor bold

My heart is pierced by Cupid

I disdain all glittering gold

There is nothing can console me

But my jolly sailor bold 𝄞

Your beautiful song had ended, leaving the room in a calming silence. Looking down, you motioned your head to look at Alastor. His head was still nuzzled on your chest, the one eye that had peaked to look at you had closed. His breathing was slowed and he was letting out small static-like snores and a few purrs. Smiling warmly, you leaned closer to his head, giving it a soft kiss. Your hand left his head, and began to reach for the blanket nearby on the bed, motioning it to have it lay over both you and Alastor. You placed your hand back on his hair, giving it a comforting rub, as you leaned back against the pillow, whispering, "Good night Alastor."

Tag List:

@alastorsgoldie @91062854-ka , @delectableworm , @iiotic

@cookiekyo , @demoarah , @danveration , @beebsbea ,

@veethewriter , @forbidden-sunlight , @pinkcrystal44 , @luujjvi ,

@unholycheesesnack , @saturnhas82moons , @jyoongim ,

@aceofcards0-0 , @ghostdoodlen , @yourdoorisunlocked ,

@starshipcookie , @ainsliemac , @aria-tempest , @nobuharashinyao

, @sweet06tart , @blakedbeanss , @ihyperfixatedagain , @ktssstuff ,

@yakultt-art , @mooniee123 , @nightmarenaya , @darischerry ,

@sadnessiscoldtea , @alastorssimp , @imacollasaltitan ,

@dilucragnvindr-my-beloved , @batmanmonstarr , @felice-jaganshi ,

@justchillaine , @crazed-flower , @ohmylovewhereartthou-blog ,

@akiooshizuka , @lokis-imaginary-friend ,

@themysteriousslenderman , @huntlowfan , @futureittomainn ,

@christinaatyourservice92 , , @just-trash-yeah-thats-it ,

@angelinevalentine89 , @yunimimii , @staryosh1 ,

@mihawksdemoness , @crystalreads , @blahblahbruhmeow ,

@madam-strawberryrose , @inkslayer , @azazel-nyx , @lixanjewel ,

@artemisandhunters , @thereeallink , @ask-theradio-demon ,

@lousypotatoes

[cactus-cuddler]

Chapter 2: 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐝 𝐚 𝐛𝐨𝐝𝐲𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐫𝐝?

Series' masterlist | previous chapter | next chapter

Word count: 1,5 k

Summary: you and Bucky said your goodbyes and you faced a grueling night shift. However, the next morning your now favorite customer returns.

Warnings: drunk men * men who touch you without your consent * Simply... warnings are men

Tag list: @mcira @robynanthonystark @sofiaavarga13

(if you want to be added write to me)

ʀᴇʙʟᴏɢꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ᴄᴏᴍᴍᴇɴᴛꜱ ᴀʀᴇ ᴀᴘᴘʀᴇᴄɪᴀᴛᴇᴅ <3

You're in bed after an exhausting night. After Bucky left, the bar gradually filled up completely, both inside and outside. Both you and Megan worked those hours; alone, it would have been impossible. While you were working, some men took the liberty of touching you without permission, and you can still feel their touch imprinted on your skin. You hate this job more and more, and knowing that you have to return in a few hours doesn't console you at all.

The next morning, Bucky was already there at opening time. He helped you set up the bar by bringing out the tables and chairs, then positioned himself in the same spot while you washed the counter.

“Same drink?” you ask him, and he shakes his head.

“What’s the point if you don't let me get drunk?” he chuckles. “I'd like a coffee,” he adds. With a smile, you prepare it for him.

“How many glasses do you need to get drunk?” you ask curiously. A normal person would be drunk after just two glasses of your strongest drink, but Bucky, even after five, simply felt more vulnerable.

“Too many,” he replies, focusing his gaze on your sweet face.

As the bar gradually fills with people wanting breakfast, you serve everyone with a smile. Bucky watches your every move intently, and under his gaze, you feel embarrassed, wishing he would leave and come back when the place isn’t so full. You know the skirt of your uniform moves too much, and you’re afraid Bucky might turn out to be like the other pigs who frequent the bar. Yet, you want to trust him. As soon as there are no more customers to serve, you return to Bucky.

“Isn’t working in a uniform like this suicide?” your favorite customer asks, and you nod. He understands. He knows what drunk men do to cute girls like you at the bar.

“But I know how to defend myself,” you tell him with a wink. He raises an eyebrow, unconvinced.

“This bar, and you, need a bodyguard, don’t you?” he suggests.

“You’re kidding. No, I don’t need one!” you laugh at his words. He seems too serious, so when the next day your employer announces Bucky as the bar’s bodyguard for night shifts, you’re left speechless.

“You’re crazy,” you tell him with a smile during your morning shift, him sitting in the same place and you behind the counter.

“But now you won’t have to be afraid anymore,” he replies. He’s completely right. With someone to defend you from other men, you feel safer and the job seems less burdensome. You place your warm hand on top of his.

“Thank you very much,” you say sincerely, offering him a coffee and a brioche. Although he isn’t crazy about sweets, he decides to eat it to avoid hurting your feelings and shares it with you. He feeds you a piece because your hands are dirty with soap, and seeing you get dirty with chocolate cream makes him smile, a cute smile that will remain imprinted in your mind.

Today, Bucky stayed less, and during your second shift, he only stopped by to say hello before you saw each other again at night. He’s dressed in a tight black t-shirt, revealing his vibranium arm, with the bar's logo, and simple sweatpants. When you saw him, you were transfixed by his irresistible charm. He greets you and Megan, who wonders if having a bodyguard will make shifts calmer, without men touching you inappropriately.

“Good evening, stud,” Megan says in her usual flirtatious tone, which for some reason bothers you. He returns the greeting with a wave.

“Do you prefer me to position myself inside or outside?” he asks, his hoarse voice sending a shiver down your spine.

“Stand at the door and keep an eye on both inside and outside,” Megan replies. You agree, so you don’t say anything else. Before starting your shift, you and Megan usually share a chocolate bar. Today she brought it, gave you your share, and then went to the counter, leaving you alone with Bucky for a few minutes.

“It’s our custom,” you tell him, showing your piece of chocolate with a smile.

“A lucky charm?” he asks, and you nod, breaking your part in two and giving him a piece, which he accepts with thanks.

“Luck will be needed by those who watch you,” he says, and you blush, giggling. You hold up the piece of chocolate as if to toast and then eat while looking at each other. Your gaze focuses on him as he swallows, showing his Adam's apple.

You let him go, and he positions himself at the door, watching both inside and outside without losing sight of you.

“That man is crazy about you,” Megan whispers in your ear while eating her chocolate. You blush and shake your head.

“He’s just grateful because I didn’t let him get drunk,” you reply and then take table six’s order. Megan doesn’t say anything else and goes back to serving her regular customers, flirting for tips.

You take a tray, place the drinks on it, and head towards the table with your usual smile. You see Bucky’s eyes on you and give him a reassuring smile. That table starts whistling as you approach, and your smile fades.

“Is your number included with the drinks?” someone asks. You ignore it and serve the drinks as quickly as possible. One guy puts his hand on your thigh, and before he can go further, Bucky is behind you.

“Having a nice evening?” Bucky asks in his deep voice.

“We wanted to have fun with this little doll,” the customer replies, tightening his grip on your thigh.

Your bodyguard pulls you close, making the guy's hand slip away. Your back is against Bucky's chest. You feel his chest rise and fall with his breath, his scent filling your nostrils. You think you’re about to faint.

“Go to the counter and don’t move,” he whispers in your ear. Blushing, you do as he asks and prepare the other orders. From there, you see Bucky still talking to that table when one of them stands up and punches him in the face. Bucky remains unfazed, touching his lip where you see a small wound. He then walks away, leaving the drunkards behind. “It was a pleasure talking to you too,” you hear him say as he walks away.

“How are you?” he asks you.

“You’re the one with the bloody lip,” you giggle, wetting a washcloth to dab his wound.

“Why didn’t you hit him back?” you ask.

“My job is to protect you, not kill anyone,” he answers. “Trust me, if I wanted to, I could kill him right now,” he adds, and you smile. He got punched just for you. Before returning to his station, he asks if you’re okay and if you need anything. How can a man be so thoughtful after only a few days of knowing each other?

The rest of the evening goes peacefully. No one else dares approach you after seeing Bucky protect you. With that arm, it’s not a problem for him to send someone straight to the afterlife. You’ve never had such a peaceful and pleasant evening. Men limit themselves to compliments, women ask for Bucky’s name, but you (for some reason) pretend not to know him. Megan can’t help but notice the connection between you.

When closing time comes, your colleague leaves in a hurry. You change into something more comfortable for walking at night. You thought Bucky was already gone, but he’s waiting for you at the door.

“I’ll walk you home,” he says. It’s not a polite question but an order. But you don’t mind.

“Has anyone ever gone further?” he asks, walking next to you. You nod, shivering at the memory of certain creeps.

“Luckily, they never got too far. I have many precautions,” you assure him. He had already imagined scenarios of you being abused, but knowing they didn’t succeed makes him feel better.

When you arrive at your house, you notice his lip has worsened. You force him to come upstairs and sit on the armchair while you fetch the first aid kit. You carefully disinfect the wound. He feels a bit of pain but tries not to show it to maintain his mysterious demeanor. You put a band-aid on him, and he thanks you for your kindness.

“Thanks to you. I’ve been working at that bar for months, and today was the first time I didn’t feel in danger at every table I served,” you confess. You accompany him to the exit with regret, suggesting he stay over since it’s late, but he flatly refuses. Before he leaves, you kiss his cheek to say goodnight.

“Goodnight, pretty girl,” he answered and giggling you slowly closed the door. Now every time you hear "pretty girl" you can't help but think of Bucky.

Outside your door, he touches his cheek where your lips had been, and the memory makes him blush and a smile appears on his lips.

Thanks for reading! If there is something you want to tell me about it feel free to tell me. I would also like what you think and how you would like it to continue <3

I remember that if you want to be added to the tag list, just write to me or a comment here or in messages (it's also good as an excuse to talk, I love meeting new people knowing that we have common interests!♡)

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[kawhh]

I was distracted with shopping but i'm back and whorish as ever !!

Dark/possesive Q when the two of you are at a small get together after a win. It's a win they've been chasing after for weeks after loss upon loss. Quinn is quick to pull you close to his side, tucking one hand into a back pocket or resting it in the dip of your back, anything to keep you close. To not let you wander. But when you quickly slipped away to the bar to grab another drink, something that he always does for you, just for him to look over and find some random a little too close to what was his.

His steps are quick, his hand that found the back of your neck was even faster before he pulled you away, pushing you into the small dimly lit bathroom across the bar. It's sticky and cramped, your back pressed to the edge of the sink that has God knows what all over it as one hand wraps around your jaw, the pressure a dull ache as he squeezed softly, a ache that went straight between your thighs.

His glare would be so intense when you'd finally meet his eye, quickly stopping whatever smartass remark would've left your lips.

There were absolutely no words being exchanged in the thick silence of the bathroom, it made your skin prickle. The hand around your jaw would lean your head back, giving Quinn's lips easy access to the column of your throat as he'd press soft kisses to the skin, a nip here and there, a pretty purple and red bruise sucked right under your jaw.

When he finally spoke, his voice was deeper and rougher than usual, a clear indication of the words he'd exchanged on ice with the other team only an hour before. "There we go, this is what you wanted, no?" It'd send a chill down your spine, make your grip tighten around his arms as his knee would press between your legs. "I think it was."

Personally I think I need to start directing people to you for dark!Quinn since you’re this talented with writing this side of his personality.

You’ll have people foaming at the mouth

Quinn in the dice and ice suit is really not helping any of us out 🙂‍↔️

Him putting his hand around your neck? Wanting that more possessive grip to pull you? I’m having a heart attack.

Quickly setting up a fucking Amazon wish list with toys since everyone wants to make me go more insane

I’ll pay about a cool mil for Quinn to glare at me. Especially if glaring turns into him being a possessive little shit.

God, he’d making you cry so fucking hard even just with his knee. He wouldn’t need anything else. He’d just keep marking you up every single time you cum.

He’d just keep telling you that it’s what you wanted. You want everyone to know you’re his little slut when you leave the bathroom? You want his marks painting your throat? You want your outfit drenched? If you’re embarrassed enough, you won’t leave his side this time.

Clearly his hand on your body wasn’t enough. Never enough for his girl.

He’s restraining your arms. He’s not the one who’s gotta leave in a mess - that’s you. You don’t deserve to touch him. You didn’t seem to care that he was holding you before, so you really, really don’t deserve it now

Help me ma’am

[dreamauri]

♪ — 𝗜𝗡𝗗𝗢𝗠𝗜𝗧𝗔𝗕𝗟𝗘 - chapter two jenson button x fem! driver! reader ( fluff / smut ) series summary . . . a mortal who dared to defy the impossible. Of grit forged in fire, and dreams that refused to yield. In a world where heroes are born, and few rise to become legends. You are a force to be reckoned with. Unshakable. Unstoppable. Indomitable. (2.7k words)

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II - MANEATER . . . ( Your second and third years in Formula One, 2013 -> 2014 content warning . . . ( contains mature sexual themes, threesomes (sebastian+yn+jenson, fernando+yn+jenson), very light mention of anal, Yn is 20 and 21 years old in this chapter )

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

The press conference room is filled with the buzz of flashing cameras, the stifling heat of too many bodies pressed into one space, and the noise of too many voices talking at once. You’re sitting at the front, your legs crossed with the confidence of someone who knows exactly where she belongs, who knows exactly what she’s capable of. The reporters are already eyeing you, a mixture of admiration, curiosity, and something else, something they can’t quite put a name to.

Your heels click against the floor as you shift in your chair, adjusting the fit of your outfit with a small smile. The suit you’re wearing feels like armour—a sharp, tailored black number with an edge, a visual statement of who you are now: fierce, untouchable.

“You’re having a great start to your season, Yn. But the question on everyone’s mind is—did you sleep with your teammate to secure your seat?” A bold, daring journalist throws the question at you, as if expecting you to stumble, to blush, to shy away.

You tilt your head, a smirk tugging at your lips as you meet his gaze, never backing down. They want a spectacle. Let them have it.

“You really think I needed to sleep with someone to get my seat?” you ask, voice smooth and dripping with challenge. You let the words hang for a moment, and the room quiets, waiting for your response, sensing that you’ve got them exactly where you want them.

With an almost imperceptible roll of your eyes, you answer, “I got the seat first. If anyone had to sleep with the other for the second seat, it would be Jenson sleeping with me for his seat.”

The laughter that ripples through the room is stifled, but you know it’s there, thick in the air. You can feel the tension around you as the reporter’s face pales, the realization dawning on him that he’s crossed a line.

“Keep an eye on your email,” you add, lowering your microphone slowly, leaning into the moment. Your gaze doesn’t waver from the journalist’s, your eyes locked in a challenge that’s now personal. “My lawyer will be in contact with you.”

A beat of silence. And then you smile—sweet, easy, too innocent to be anything other than menacing—and you lower your mic.

That’s who you are now. The girl who doesn’t let anyone walk all over her. Not anymore. Your high heels click with power, with authority, each step an unmistakable reminder of who you are. You’re not the innocent girl from the beginning of your career anymore. You’ve turned into someone who’s unafraid to strike back when provoked.

The younger generation loves it. They see you as the new sex symbol, an icon in heels, a force they can’t look away from. When they see you on the covers of magazines, they think they know you—they think they understand you. But they don’t. Not even close.

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

The hum of the bar surrounds you as you walk, your heels clicking against the floor in a rhythmic, almost hypnotic cadence, making men all around you turn their heads to watch as you stride past. The bartender’s smile is instant, a knowing look in his eyes as he slides your drink toward you—your usual, a martini with just the right amount of bite.

“Congrats on the win,” he says, his voice low and appreciative, nervous, you could see it in the way he stands. “It was impressive.”

You give him a nod, a flirtatious grin curling at your lips. Impressive. It was more than that. It was perfect. The rush of the race, the feel of the podium beneath your feet—it never gets old.

“Thanks,” you reply, voice smooth as silk. You tilt your head to meet his eyes, your smirk widening. “I know.”

Taking the drink, you pause just long enough to give him a teasing glance as you take your first sip before you turn, weaving your way through the crowd to where Jenson sits. He’s deep in conversation with a group of men, but you know he’ll notice you. He always does.

Jenson is sat down with a group of men, his laughter filling the space between the conversations. He notices you immediately, a glint in his eyes as you approach. You don’t give him a chance to speak yet. Instead, you hand him his drink, and he takes it with a grin that’s far too familiar.

“You’re trouble,” he murmurs, his voice low and teasing, playful.

You raise an eyebrow, a playful challenge in your gaze. “And you love it,” you reply, your tone smooth, teasing as you lean your forearm on his shoulder to use him as an armrest, taking a sip. The spark between you is there, always there, even if it’s become a little less exciting over time. You watch as he takes a sip of his drink, eyes tracking every movement of yours.

But you're not here for Jenson, not entirely anyway.

You turn your head, and just as you do, one of the men in his group, the one standing a little further from the conversation, makes his move. He steps toward you, his smile charming and smooth as he offers his hand. “I’m Allison,” he says, his voice rich with confidence. “I just wanted to congratulate you on the win. I watched the whole thing from my balcony. You were incredible out there..”

You pause for a second, assessing him. The sharp cut of his jaw, the way his confidence bleeds into the air around him—it’s clear he's used to being the centre of attention. But you’re the one people can’t take their eyes off tonight.

You don’t shake his hand. Instead, you raise your martini glass, giving him a small nod. A flick of a smile. “Thanks. A win in Monaco always is,” you reply coolly, before taking a slow sip of your drink, letting the tension between you linger. The man, Allison, hesitates for a moment, clearly thrown off by your disinterest, before pulling his hand back with an awkward little laugh.

You let the silence stretch, letting him squirm just a little. With a small wave, you turn your back on him, leaning your other hand on Jenson’s shoulder as you join the conversation, the night calling to you more than any empty pleasantries could.

You catch Jenson’s gaze once more, and this time, it’s different. There’s an understanding between you two, something unspoken, something that doesn’t need words. He watches you with that knowing grin of his, the one that always tells you he sees through the layers.

Before you know it, the world blurs around you. The conversation, the clinking of glasses, the soft hum of voices—all of it fades into the background as you find yourself being led out of the bar, your body pulled toward the warmth of Jenson’s penthouse. You’re drunk, but not too drunk to care.

Clothes hit the floor in a flurry of forgotten intentions, lips meeting messily in a frenzy of need as you unbutton Jenson jeans and help him hop out of them. The pull of his hands, the heat of his body—it’s too easy to give in. Everything else fades into the haze of pleasure, and you don’t think—don’t care about anything except the now. The bed, the heat, the way his hands travel over you, igniting every nerve. The way he fucks you into his bed with steady thrusts, his fingers gripping your hips tightly enough to leave faint bruises as he whispers your name like a prayer over and over.

It’s messy. It’s passionate. And it’s always like this between you two, this tangled mess of sex and race weekends. Jenson. You. The bed. The escape. The thrill of the moment. There’s no love in it, but it’s consuming all the same.

And as the night continues, with bodies entwined and hearts caught in the aftershocks of desire, you can’t help but wonder what it is about these fleeting moments that make them feel so real.

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

The hotel room feels oddly quiet, despite the chaos of everything that led you here. Another win, another podium, but the thrill of victory feels different now. It's not as satisfying as it used to be, not when there’s this unexplainable craving inside of you that needs more. 

You’re not sure when it started, but now, you're here, tangled between Jenson and Sebastian Vettel—an unspoken agreement between all of you. The rush of the night matches the pulse in your veins, but it’s not just victory you seek anymore. No, it’s the feeling of release, of being completely caught in the moment, and somehow, the three of you are drawn together in a way that feels inevitable.

Jenson’s voice is low as he grins at you, his fingers brushing against your skin with a mix of care and mischief. “You know YN, you’re not the only one who likes to take things fast, darling,” he says, a wink in his tone that’s both playful and dangerous.

You glance over at Sebastian, who’s already grinning in that cocky, childlike way he does, his eyes full of fire. He’s always been the one to push boundaries, never afraid to take risks, to go too fast, too hard as he holds your legs above your chest from the back of your knees. And right now, that speed is all-consuming. You’re lost in it, caught between them, each touch, each movement driving you wild.

But when it’s over, you don’t feel that emptiness. There’s no satisfaction in just the act itself; it's something else that keeps pulling you back. Something deeper. Something raw.

The second time it happens, it’s not just Jenson and Sebastian. Jenson, always the one to push the envelope, has a look in his eyes—a little too knowing—and asks, “What if I invite Fernando next?”

You don’t say no. You don’t even hesitate.

Fernando looks at you with that familiar quiet confidence of his, and you can’t ignore the way his presence feels different. He’s older, more deliberate, and there’s something in the way he looks at you that feels different. He doesn’t just see you as another conquest. There's something deeper there, but you can’t quite place it. His touch is gentler than the others, every stroke of his fingers soft, almost reverent.

When the night unfolds, it’s not about the rush. It's not about the wild abandon that Sebastian brings or the playful dominance Jenson demands. It’s about the way Fernando holds you close, his every movement thoughtful, and tender, like he’s taking care of you. His hands are gentle as they guide you to ride him, and when Jenson gets a little too rough as he takes your ass for the first ever time—too fast—it's Fernando who’s the one speaking for you when all you can let out is squeaks, whimpers and whines. His voice was low and commanding, in a way that sent shivers down your spine.

“Jenson,” he murmurs in that thick accent of his, pulling Jenson’s attention from you, “slow down. She’s not just some . . . quick ride.”

There’s something in Fernando’s eyes that stirs something deeper in you. He’s not just acting out of desire; he’s looking at you like you’re something more—something fragile, something to protect. It’s confusing, but it's comforting all the same.

Afterwards, when everything settles and the tension fades, Fernando’s voice softens again. He brushes the hair from your face, speaking in quiet Spanish, his words unintelligible to Jenson but somehow still so intimate.

“Te cuido, cariño,” he whispers, his fingers lingering on your skin. I’ll take care of you, darling.

His hands are soft as they clean you up, as if you’re something precious. It’s a stark contrast to the usual detachment, the fast-paced lust that you’ve become used to. With Fernando, it’s different. It feels like he’s there for something more than just the physical.

You wonder, briefly, if he sees you the way he sees everyone else—or if there’s something more between you two. But as he wraps you in his arms and presses a kiss to your forehead, you push the thought away. It’s not time for questions. Not now.

The thing is, you don’t know if you want to answer those questions. You don’t know if you want to know why he’s different. Maybe it’s enough that he is different. And you’re starting to realize that, somehow, you crave him the most.

Even as Jenson pulls you into another embrace which you snuggle into eagerly, his body pressed against yours, it’s Fernando's touch that lingers in your mind, his voice that echoes in your head.

And for the first time in a long time, you don’t feel like you're just another driver, just another woman. You feel like you're someone to him.

That’s something you haven’t felt in a while.

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

The final race of the season. Brazil. The crowd is electric, the tension unbearable. But for you, there’s something else gnawing at your gut. Jenson is retiring. This is the last time you’ll race with him as a teammate, the last time you’ll share a podium with him. And it stings.

You secured the championship. You should be over the moon, ecstatic. But the pit in your stomach refuses to go away.

After the race, in the quiet aftermath of victory, you find yourself alone with Jenson. The moonlight spills into the room, soft and silvery, illuminating the chaos of limbs tangled beneath rumpled sheets. The afterglow of your championship victory still lingers in the air, as thick and intoxicating as the champagne that’s long since been consumed.

The silence is thick with the weight of all the unsaid things, all the moments you shared—the late nights, the laughter, the camaraderie. You kiss him, a soft, lingering kiss, one more before you go your separate ways.

Jenson lies beside you, his breathing slow and steady, his chest rising and falling in that comfortable rhythm that always calms you. He’s quiet for a moment, eyes staring at the ceiling, lost in thought.

"You were incredible out there today," he murmurs, breaking the silence.

You smile, but it's not a carefree grin. You’ve won the championship, but it feels different tonight—heavier. “I—. We did it.” Your voice cracks slightly, and you’re not sure if it’s from the adrenaline or something else.

Jenson shifts closer, pulling you into his side, and you let him, your head resting on his chest. The familiarity of his warmth soothes you.

"I’m so proud of you," he adds, his voice soft, laced with a tenderness that makes your heart ache in places you didn’t know existed.

You trace the contours of his chest with your fingers, the comfortable silence stretching between you. But there's a question hanging in the air, one neither of you is brave enough to voice.

“What now?” You ask it quietly, but the weight of it feels like a bomb in your chest.

Jenson shifts, the smile on his lips almost bitter. “You’ll keep winning. You always do.” His fingers trace the curve of your arm as if he’s trying to imprint your form into his memory.

And for a moment, the silence is comfortable again—until it’s not. The tension between you builds, the unsaid words filling the room.

You break the silence, rolling to face him. “You’re really leaving, huh?”

Jenson’s eyes soften, his hand finding your face, gently cupping your cheek. "You knew this day would come, Yn. I’ve always known."

His words slice through you. They’re a sharp reminder of what you’re losing, and you’re not sure how to process it. But before you can respond, his lips are on yours, silencing whatever words you had in mind. His kiss is slow, lingering, a finality in every brush of his lips against yours.

It’s a kiss that tastes like goodbye, but it’s still so sweet that you let it consume you, let it take you to that place of pure comfort and vulnerability.

This is the way this world works, isn’t it? You win, you lose, you fight, you fuck—but you never get to keep it all.

You start to wonder . . . why not?

[dsireland86]

Ride It

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@philomenie @supersquirrel1996 @foliosgirl @angelmarie89 @fadingintothegrey @thisbicc @lma1986 @dominuslunae @shayzillaaaa @mrsnoahsebastian @flowery-mess @iloveyoutodeathbutimdrowning @stardustsirenmelody @romanreigns-supreme @anything-more-than-human @into-the-grey @rumoured-whispers @myownthoughts12 @sister-sebastian @nyxthedestroyerofworlds-deactiv @missduffsblog @bngurngheart  @somebodyllelse @xxkittenkissesxx @fadingangelwisp @dizzylmwahh

The music is louder than Y/N normally has it, but then again, she is the only one in here at the moment. Matt's the first one in, ready to holler at her about it, but slows the nearer he gets because he recognizes the song immediately. "Ride It" is blaring from the small Bluetooth speaker sitting on top of the black equipment supply case, filling Matt's head with images of the two of them together a few nights ago back in Boston. They lost control with the need to feel each other as the song played quietly in the background. Matt is a grinning mess, leaning against the wall, watching as the girl who drives him fucking mental work her body to the beat of music.

Noah stands to the left of him, frozen in place, eyes glued to Y/N and how she bends and squats, showing off the thin straps of the red lacy thong she's wearing. He groans quietly, adjusting himself as she stands back up, thrusting her bottom out as if she's grinding on a body behind her. Last week, he was that body, and the images of her slightly bent over as he took her from behind flashed across his mind. What he wouldn't give to be that body right now.

Nicholas notices the beads of sweat spreading and dripping onto the sports bra she's wearing, soaking the black spandex that's covering her firmly plum breasts, the very same ones he had in his mouth and hands three days ago. When everyone else was out enjoying the day off, he and Y/N chose to stay on the bus, eventually making out. Sex was always so great with her, but sometimes, Nicholas just wanted everything that led up to the sex. He loved teasing her, hearing her whimper and beg for him as she let him feel her. She touched his soul with her words and the feeling of her hands tangling their fingers in his hair. She was his drug.

Jolly licks his lips nervously, clenching his hands into fists because of how badly he wants to touch her. The way her cut-off jean shorts hug her hips, showing off the trail of her thong between her lower back and ass as she stands back up is putting the most unholy thoughts in his head. Jolly can't stop picturing the last time they were together and how he gripped those same hips as he sat in a chair and allowed her to have full control over him. Y/N gave him the best lap dance he'd ever had that eventually led to her fucking him right there on the spot, making Jolly cum the hardest he's ever had. "Fuck me," he mutters quietly to himself, trying his best to fight his erection.

Y/N bobs her head to the beat, swaying her body around the invisible dance floor and grinding against the air. The tone of her voice, the words that are falling from her lips, and the way her body moves has got Folio entranced. But unlike the others, he's not surprised. He's seen this before and it's one of his favorite things about her. There are times while on the road, that the two of them will visit a club or a bar together, just for the hell of it and once Y/N has had a few drinks in her, she's usually all over him, grinding and loving up on him in the hottest way possible. One time they went to a strip club together and that night ended with the hottest, roughest sex Folio had ever had in his life. By the next morning, the marks they both had left on one another were clearly visible.

"Her ass is perfect," Nick mumbles. "Yeah, it is," Folio agrees. He stares, with hungry eyes, at Y/N grinding herself against the invisible body. "Looked even better when I spanked it a few times last night," Folio brags, raising his eyebrows with a smirk, making Nick chuckle. "Oh, shit. That explains a lot." Folio shrugs, smiling.

The five of them continue to watch the girl who has all of them wrapped around her finger, working her body, bumping and grinding while gliding around the equipment cases, inspecting everything she finds on her list. The song is on repeat, ending only to start over again, yet even in the quietness Y/N has no clue what's happening behind her. Not until Jolly steps in.

"Holy fucking shit, Jolly! Y/N screams, clenching her chest. She throws her hands up, covering her face to hide her embarrassment. Jolly is laughing hysterically, please with himself over scaring her half to death. "I'm sorry baby, but I had to," he unsympathetically apologizes. He pulls her close from behind, kissing the side of her head. "Would it make you feel better if I tell you that the way you were working this little ass of yours was incredibly hot?" Jolly gives her bottom a firm squeeze. Y/N lightly laughs. "Oh, really?" "Really," Jolly assures her more seriously now. She rubs her ass against the hard bulge she feels against her back, pushing against it the more she knows she's getting to him. Eventually turning to face him, Y/N reaches up and kisses him, smiling against his lips. "Slow it down," she says quietly, "not right now." Winking at him, she walks away, back over to her task.

Later on that evening, back at the hotel, everyone is together in the main suite chilling. Y/N is tucked up comfortably in Noah's arms, almost asleep when her phone rings. She looks at it, groaning loudly before jumping up and walking into one of the bedrooms, closing the door behind her. "What was that about," Matt asks Noah, who only shrugs. Nicholas and Folio go over to the door, listening intently. "It's over! I already told you that! When? Seriously? Fucking months ago when I came home from being gone for two weeks and found you fucking my best friend in our bed! You know this, yet you continue to hurt me by trying to stay relevant in my life." Folio and Nick look at each other in shock. They had no idea about Y/N's personal and private life. When Matt hired her on as equipment inspector, things between the six of them slowly turned into what it is now. It wasn't until the last three months that all six of them agreed on a poly type relationship.

"You know what, I can't take it anymore. We're done now. I was trying to maintain a healthy friendship with you even after what you did to me, but I can't. It's completely over now. Fuck you, fuck her. Enjoy your stupid life together." Everything is quiet. The bedroom door flings opened, revealing Y/N's tear stained face. Folio can't take it. Scooping her up in his arms, he kisses her eagerly, pushing her back into the bedroom and closing the door behind them. Quickly undressing himself and then her, Folio pulls her on top of him as he falls onto the bed, guiding his fully hard cock to her entrance, pushing her down onto him.

"Holy fuck! God baby," he cries the moment he's fully inside her. "Yeah, you like that?" She smiles, placing both hands on his chest, covering part of the massive eagle. "Fuck, yeah I like that.I always love it when you ride me," Folio confesses, smiling up at her sweetly. Y/N moans loud the moment she feels his tip hit her cervix. "Fuck! I feel that, baby girl." Y/N nods, already panting and unable to form a sentence. "You just stay right there, let me work your body on me," Folio says, sweetly. "I'll fuck that asshole out of your mind." A few tears run down her cheeks as she nods again, throwing her head back in a whimpering mess. Folio clenches down on her hips, desperately pulling her back and forth against him, grunting. "Fuck, Nick, I'm about to cum, baby," Y/N confesses. "Already," Folio chuckles lightly. "Mmmhmm, I'm sorry." Folio grabs her chin, forcing her to look at him. "Don't ever apologize. That's what this is all about, sweetheart. Pleasuring each other. So, fuck me until you cum." Y/N wipes her tears away before leaning down and kissing Folio in a heated kiss. In a matter of minutes, she's crying out his name, coating his cock with her orgasm. He follows, filling her entirely.

Matt enters, seeking the obvious which Y/N is willing to give him. "Looks like this might be turning into a twosome today," Matt says, undoing his pants. Folio kisses Y/N one more time, handing her his shirt to put between her legs. “It's fine, baby, just come here," Matt assures her, pulling her closer to him. She lays back as Matt rests her legs on his shoulders, bending her in half, before entering her. "Oh yeah, so fucking smooth," he sighs, thrusting softly up into her. Y/N digs her nails into his shoulders, biting her lip to suppress her loud moans. "Let me hear you, I wanna hear you," Matt pleads, picking up his pace. "Kiss me," he says, his raspy demand barely audible. His head bends and she grabs the back of it, bringing his mouth to hers possessively. "I'm about to cum, Y/N," Matt murmurs, his control about to snap. "Then do it," she whispers softly, brushing the hair off of his forehead and kissing it, just as he releases himself inside her. "Fuck," he whispers into her neck. Y/N, releases a light laugh. "You're welcome," she says. Matt peppers her chest with light kisses before crawling out from between her legs.

"What happened," Noah asks, watching Y/N wash herself. She's sitting in the hot water, lost in thought. "I've realized what a piece of shit he is, that's what happened." Noah snickers. He stands up and holds open her towel as she climbs out of the tub. Enclosing it around her wet body, he wraps his strong arms around her and holds her tightly. Y/N rests into him sighing. "Y/N, I want to feel you," Noah whispers against her ear. "I want your skin on mine." He lets the towel fall to the floor and runs his gentle hands down her body. "God, you're so soft," he says, his voice husky with emotion. He kisses her neck, making Y/N's head spin and heart race as she reaches behind his neck, clinging to him. Noah pulls her over to the toilet quickly removing his pants before sitting down on the lid. Y/N straddles his legs, staring down at his long hard cock, the pink redness of its tip leaking pre-cum giving her the excited tingling sensation between her thighs. "Come sit on me, princess," he says, hold his cock still for her. She slips herself over him, crying out the moment she inside her. Noah grabs her hips working her all the way down. "Holy shirt," Noah, groans through clenched teeth. "Fuck, you cunt feels amazing. Do you like it at this angle?" Y/N nods, gripping his shoulders. "Yeah, me too. Ride me, princess. Make yourself cum," Noah stares directly into her brown eyes. He grabs her ass, pushing her into him the faster she moves. "Fuck, yeah, feels so damn good." "Noah, I'm almost there," Y/N whines." "Me, too. Keep going. Harder, baby." The sight of her breasts bouncing vigorously is enough to drag him over the edge just as she cums, throwing her arms around his neck and burying her face into his neck. Noah holds her running his hands slowly up and down her back.

"Jolly, don't stop, god don't stop, I'm almost there!" Jolly has Y/N on the floor, head and shoulders braced against the carpet, ass up, fucking her as hard as he can from behind. The sounds coming from her sound sinful, making Jolly curse. "You wanna tease me like you did earlier and think you can get away with it. You're wrong baby." "Jolly, oh fuck!" Jolly groans. "Agh, you feel like  heaven, baby girl. Your daddy likes fucking you like this, disciplining you properly." He smacks her ass and it makes her cum hard, screaming his name as she does. Jolly pulls out, spilling his seed all over her lower back as Y/N collapses to the floor. Kissing her shoulder, Jolly gets up and returns with a towel, cleaning her up properly. "Nick still wants a turn," he whispers softly, draping a blanket over her. "I know," she smiles.

His movements are slow and sweet, not forcing anything out of her that she doesn't want to give him. Their kisses are gentle and full of longing. "You're beautiful," he whispers, rubbing his cheek again her skin. "Nicky, can I stay with you," she asks, her lips pressed against his skin. "I want to be close to you." Y/N holds Nicholas tight against her body, legs wrapped tightly around his waist as he gently makes love to her. "Yeah," he replies, kissing her lips. His heart is hammering against his chest. "You can stay with me for as long as you want to." They stare into each others eyes. Nicholas skims her face with his fingertips, the calloused tips rough against her skin. "I've been fantasizing about this for days." His confession makes her shiver before his mouth latches on to her neck and sucking it hard until he makes her moan. Clinging to his shoulders, helpless to stop any of this, Y/N holds Nicholas close, pressing her lower body tighter to him as his hips rotate and rock harder. Nick growls, plunging his tongue into her mouth, and grabbing her thigh, lifting to get a better angle in her. Softly and quietly, Y/N's orgasm rips through her, bringing her to a different kind of high. Nicholas follows soon after, keeping complete eye contact with her as he does." Slowly kissing her, he pulls out and cleans her up. Wrapping his arm around her warm body, he pulls her against his chest, burying his head in the crook of her neck. "I like you Nicky. Very much. More than I probably should." He smiles. "I like you a lot, too," he whispers back. "This is complicated, isn't it?" There's a brief silence. "It doesn't have to be." "But it is." "Well, I'd rather do complicated with you then not complicated without you." Y/N rolls over to face him, tucking her hands under her cheek. "Well, I'm not sure I know how to do this, be someone's person while being in a relationship with others too. I don't want to loose this." "You won't lose me, baby," Nicholas vowed, kissing the tip of her nose. "You're stuck with me. We don't have to make this into anything serious right now. Let's just go slow and enjoy the ride." Y/N, cracked a smile. "Oh, I'll enjoy the ride alright. I always do."

[jinkicake]

i’m so sorry for adding onto the never ending requests for arranged marriage fics but could you please do one with kaeya? thank you so much :D

Forced / Arranged Marriage Trope 

(pt. ??) Kaeya Alberich x Reader

A/N: thank you for requesting kaeya </3333333 this is a lot longer than the others because kaeya is my fav </3 i wrote this and other different ideas so many times and it's still not what i want but i will always post anything kaeya related!!! </333

fem!reader bc I like the use of ‘wife’

WC - 2.3K

~~~

“Diluc, you don’t understand. He’s never home, never listens, and he never spends any time with me!” Complaint after complaint, your long list of issues seemingly comes to an end. The bar owner nearly sighs. “I can’t understand why Crepus wanted this arrangement. A last wish for marriage makes no sense,” You all but fall forward onto the bar of Angel’s Share and Diluc could not be any more annoyed. He braces a neutral expression as he tries to keep his irritation at bay, but the truth is, he has no interest in your or his brother’s marital issues. 

“Give me another drink, please,” You raise your empty glass and the owner is quick to fill it up before roughly pushing it back toward you. He nods to one of his men by the door, a gesture that demands Kaeya needs to be found soon. “what do I do, Diluc?” Despite your whining and how tired the poor owner is, he was raised to be a gentleman. He will listen to your worries and consult you when possible because that is what a gentleman would do. “Kaeya doesn’t like me at all and it’s been eight months since we got married!”

You truly must be pushing him now, this is a test of his character. Diluc tries not to show the way his face sours at this awful interaction but, he feels his eye twitch. He wants to grab you by the shoulders and demand that you just try speaking with your husband because, to him and everyone else, Kaeya's care for you is borderline nauseating. However, he remains quiet and waits to hear the familiar ding of the front entrance. 

The cavalry captain should be showing up soon, any time now. It’s nearly eight in the evening and Kaeya always finds himself in the stool beside yours at a quarter to seven but, you’re usually not with him. You’re not the daily drinker like your husband. 

“I really want him to like me but he just doesn’t, is there something wrong with me?” Your eyes have grown glassy now and Diluc anxiously looks over your head as he wipes a glass dry for the fifth time. Now, now, now. 

Finally, the familiar ding of the door and a set of dark blue hair comes. 

Too bad you’re drunk out of your mind to notice. 

“Kaeya doesn’t love me!” The sight of you bursting into tears finally breaks Diluc’s stone expression. He raises his brows high as he glances at his brother. Much like his vision, the younger man has an expression that is cold as ice. The hard look on Kaeya’s face freaks him out even more than your outburst. Quickly, the owner removes himself from the situation as he places the cup down and walks to the backroom. 

Privacy is what you and your husband need. Diluc needs a break from failing to play counselor. Distancing himself does both of those things. 

Kaeya remains quiet, simultaneously calm and collected. 

Your husband is a very professional man, one who always manages to keep his cool. Even now, he ignores any lingering stares from employees rushing upstairs as he places his coat over your shoulders and dips his head beside your own. 

“Let’s go home, dear,” His encouraging hands gently squeeze your shoulders before helping you out of the chair and stabilizing your movements as you begin to stumble. You glare at him with watery eyes and a fierce frown. Drunk or not, you recognize his touch anywhere. After shrugging him off, you continue to move forward and leave the bar with him in tow. 

The walk back to your shared apartment is quiet, peaceful, even if you don’t count the lingering tension that suffocates the two of you. Kaeya remains a pace behind you with his hands shoved deep into his pockets. He watches you with a protective eye and follows your natural sway as you bobble all the way back home. 

Irritation pricks him entirely the wrong way, do you truly think he doesn’t care about you? Aside from your difficult schedules, the captain has always made it a point to make sure you are cared for. His duty as a husband is important to him and something he takes great pride in. Kaeya bites the inside of his cheek as his dull fingernails dig into the palm of his hand. While he may not outwardly show it, his affection for you could never be measured so easily by ‘like’ and ‘love'. His feelings exude adoration but, perhaps he is not as vocal about it as he thought. He thinks about this further as you head up the stairs and his hands automatically go to hover over your waist. Even if he is not touching you, the captain has a firm belief that doing this will keep you upright. 

Kaeya watches as you struggle to take your key out and how you flinch away when he gently covers his hand over your own. Again, he frowns. He’s never given you a reason to act so timidly. His frown only deepens as you attempt to brush past him immediately after he opens the apartment. 

“Hold on now, wait a moment,” Your husband grabs your wrist and keeps you from making a b-line straight to your individual bedroom. He locks the front door before directing you toward the bathroom. “let’s wash up.”

Your irritated expression doesn’t scare Kaeya but, your silence makes him a little bit anxious. Still, he follows closely behind as you walk into the bathroom and then attempt to slam the door in his face. 

“Easy now, honey,” Kaeya coos as he reaches for a cleanser and soft towelette. “don’t hurt me too badly.” It’s as if your lips are glued shut by the way you’re now ignoring him, refusing to talk to him. Your husband doesn’t mind, he’s always been able to make enough conversation for the two of you. 

You visibly soften and relax at Kaeya’s touch as he begins to lightly dot the towel over your face. Not once does he tug or harshly pull on your skin, he allows the dirt and grim to melt off with nothing but patience. You continue to sit there on the rim of the bathtub while observing him closely. 

“Beautiful,” Kaeya smiles when he finally pulls the towel away. He offers a warm expression, one that is genuine and kind. His affection makes you feel anxious, even if it’s one of the things you desperately yearn for. You look away the second you can bring yourself to do it. Your husband continues to gently tap a few more products into your skin before helping you put your hair up for the night. When he is finished, he quietly puts your products away. Kaeya keeps his eyes trained on the tiny bottles as he lines them up in their designated positions and then attempts to pour his heart out. “I hope you know that I do care for you. I really do, wife.”

He wills himself to glance over his shoulder to look at you and the sight that greets him nearly makes him breathless. You’re staring again, eyes blown wide at his short confession. All you can do is blink at him in surprise and the sight roots Kaeya in his spot. 

Had it not been for the slight curl of your lips and the gentle smile subtly resting on your face, Kaeya would have been afraid that he said too much. 

He quietly watches as you stand up and wobble over to him, now standing in front of him with exhaustion weighing on your shoulders. 

“Let’s get you to bed,” Kaeya murmurs before guiding you using a soft hand resting between your shoulders. He brings you to your bedroom and easily pulls out one of his shirts from your drawers before handing it to you. Despite the slight strain in your relationship, there have been many nights when you both enjoyed each other’s company. The clothing and slight blend of your lifestyles littered throughout the apartment is proof of that. It’s proof of your sacred bond, unknowingly special to the two of you. He then hands you a pair of his boxers over his shoulders and puts his faith in your drunk ability to balance because he refuses to watch you change like this. 

It’s only when he hears the creeks of your mattress that Kaeya knows it is safe to turn around. Safe for his eyes but not his heart because this new position is dangerously enticing. It takes everything in the grown man not to fall to his knees and pray to you. 

On your stomach, leg perched high where it is bent on the mattress, you look up at him from over your shoulder. The slight pout in your lip and furrow of your eyebrows makes Kaeya quiet, stunned speechless as his talented tongue grows heavy in his mouth. He looks at you in a way you once would have dreamed of. You briefly look away from his intense gaze and opt to play with the pillow instead. 

“Can you stay with me?” 

Oh, he would be a fool not to. Kaeya eagerly nods and he can’t help how his cool composure is slipping between his fingertips. This is you asking for him, he would freeze the entire world over twice if you asked. Never did he expect you to ask for this, his company.

Your husband slowly gets undressed and waits for you to change your mind, he still thinks you may kick him out but, you don’t. You patiently wait for him to get under the covers himself even if it is in nothing but his boxers. 

He’s almost resting on the edge of the mattress now to keep a respectable amount of distance between the two of you. Kaeya doesn’t want to push you any further, he would hate it but, you seem to have no issue with it. 

You scoot closer to him, subtly shimming until both of you are on the edge of the bed. There are mere centimeters between the two of you and Kaeya watches breathlessly as you lift your hand to reach out for his own. He meets you halfway almost too eagerly, the feeling of your fingertips explodes light inside of him that he never knew he had. You then smile at him and Kaeya can’t think of a sight that could rival it. 

“You don’t know how much I love you.” Kaeya finds himself confessing as the words melt off of his tongue. He watches as your expression softens and you intertwine your fingers together. Through the bearing of his soul, Kaeya scoots closer and presses his lips to your forehead. “For all the times you have been lonely, I am sorry.”

“Please forgive me,” Kaeya stops at your lack of response and almost freezes entirely, did he say too much? He’s afraid he said something wrong that would turn you off forever but, in truth, you fell fast asleep. Your cheek is pressed up against his chest, breathing deeply as you rest somewhere in a deep slumber. Kaeya lets out the breath he didn’t know he was holding in. “I should just keep my mouth shut.” He softly traces your cheek with one of his fingers while subtly moving both of your bodies to the middle of your bed. Oh, you always had the more comfortable mattress and he desperately missed it almost as much as he missed you. 

In the times of your silence and weeks filled with tension, the captain held back from reaching out. The blend of two dated lives molding together in forced proximity seemed so much easier in his head but, it was anything but that in reality. Kaeya wanted to give you time and space, but now all he can think about is greedily having those things of yours to himself. Regret fills him at the thought of missing out on anything that has to do with you. 

“If you ever need me, let me know.” Kaeya sighs as he places his chin on top of your head and wraps his arms around your waist. Tonight, he can only hope that sleep comes easily. 

It does.

The knight wakes up to gentle rays illuminating the room and your warm fingertips pressing against his ribs. He cracks an eye open, flinching when he notices you already staring at him. There’s a pout on your lips as your brows furrow in concentration, if your husband had to guess, he would say you look timid and hesitant. 

“Was it all true?” Your voice croaks and Kaeya has half a mind to get up and grab you a glass of water. Sleep still fogs his mind which makes for a pathetic attempt as he tries to grasp the situation. “What you said last night?” Seconds go by as he scrambles for an answer. 

Oh. Your husband did not expect you to remember all of that. The words are not any less true now, they won’t be any less true a handful of years in the future but, he feels a bit shy about his confessions. You’re sober now and looking at him with such determined features, almost as if his answer will break your entire world. Kaeya knows he needs to choose things carefully. 

“You love me?” Your question, laced with genuine curiosity, makes his words tumble out without a second thought. 

“So much,” His cool palm spreads across your jaw as he moves to cup your face. All Kaeya wants to do is kiss the frown off of your face but, he settles for watching you instead. With each press of his thumb against your cheek, you shuffle closer and closer to him until the space between your bodies is nonexistent. You’re looking up at him now and all Kaeya wants to do is erase any lingering doubt in your body. “allow me to prove it.”

If his words do not satisfy you now then perhaps his touch will be more than enough.