#It's on me for daydreaming and reading into things

[pedroscurls]

playing with fire (one-shot)

summary: wyatt (aka, jamie) always had one thing on his mind: money. so after he and jonathan part ways, he meets you - a woman that suddenly makes him realize that there's more to life than treachery, manipulation, and violence. but when he has another chance at getting more money than he's ever had before, he goes back to his old ways... and you're more than willing to help him in any way possible. pairing: wyatt bose (jamie getz) x fem!reader content warnings: EXPLICIT CONTENT 18+ MDNI, light dom/sub dynamic, possessiveness, violence - mentions of murder, blood, wyatt is very rough, light power imbalance in the beginning, manhandling, light choking, brief orgasm denial, multiple orgasms, unprotected p in v, multiple creampies (oops), one scene of a breeding kink, multiple scenes of oral (m and f receiving), fingering, spanking, marking, no use of y/n. word count: 13.9k (oops - i got distracted) a/n: ok y'all, this is just complete filth. hugh plays such a good bad guy (i really want him to play more roles like this bc damn) and that one fucking line where he says "oh, what i'm gonna do to you" DID things to me jfc. anyway, please heed the warnings and if you do decide to read this, hope you enjoy! had to end it with a happy ending obviously 🙂‍↕️

WELCOME TO THE CLUB — You didn’t know how you ended up here. You had just broken up with your boyfriend of two years after realizing that you were just settling for a relationship that you were no longer happy in. At this age, you should have already been married, should have already become a mother – it was something that your own family liked to remind you of what you’ve been missing. 

But that never did appeal to you. You didn’t want to become a mother, didn’t want to be married. Your family had originally hoped you would find someone to settle down with, someone to change your mind and they had thought your ex-boyfriend was that person, but… Things had become redundant. Boring. You spent most days daydreaming what it would be like to live a life you wanted. 

And the sex – well, you were always left disappointed because he just couldn’t get you to come. No matter how hard he tried. So, you resorted to your own vibrator in hopes to relieve the pressure and tension that you knew you couldn’t get with him. 

He wasn’t a bad man – in fact, he was perfect. He just wasn’t perfect for you. 

And now, you’re sitting at the edge of the bed in a hotel room that you paid for, waiting for this stranger to arrive. You had met a woman one night at the bar who had let you know of an exclusive club that she was in, a club that piqued your interest. You had all of the information written down and every day for the next month, you reviewed it every night. Never taking the initiative to finally be part of this club. 

Until tonight. 

You were tired of using your vibrator. Tired of trying to meet other men at bars, only to be disgusted by their behavior before they could even get to your front door. 

So, you reviewed the sticky note with all of the information the woman had told you about – the initiator pays for the hotel room, no names are exchanged, and no rough play. You weren’t sure what to expect when you finally called a number that she had given you, hearing his voice from the other end of the phone – it was deep, gruff. You spent the next ride to the hotel imagining what he would look like, pairing his voice with the image you conjured up of this man. 

You’re pulled out of your thoughts when you hear a knock on the door. You suddenly feel self-conscious, nervous – this is your first time in this club and you didn’t want to disappoint. With a deep breath, you finally stand up and walk to the door. Gripping the handle, you slowly open it to see a man dressed in an all black suit (no tie) and one of the most charming smiles you’ve ever seen. He wastes no time in eyeing you up and down, taking note of the short black satin robe that is loosely wrapped around your otherwise naked frame. 

“Hi,” he smiles. “Mind if I come in?” 

You nod and open the door even further for him to cross the threshold. He steps in and winks in your direction, catching his gaze on your cleavage. Once he’s fully inside, you place the “do not disturb” placard on the outside handle and then shut the door. 

“This is my first time,” you blurt out, walking back to the bed and finding your spot on the corner of the mattress. “I know the rules. No names. No rough play. Other rules can be established between us and–”

He turns around and gazes down at you, hands in his pockets and that same charming smile lining his lips. “First time, huh?” 

“In this club, at least. Not the first time ever.” 

“Shame,” he eyes your legs when you cross one over the other, the robe lifting to reveal more of your skin. “Would’ve been nice to be your first ever.” 

You feel more confident with the way he’s staring at you. Slowly, you bring your hands to the knot at your robe and begin to undo it. “We could…” you bite your lower lip, the knot loosening completely as you lean back against your forearms to reveal your exposed front for him. “Pretend?” You finish. 

He lets out the most animalistic growl that you’ve ever heard come out of a man. In two strides, he’s standing between your legs, hands still in his pockets as he gazes at your breasts down your abdomen and to the apex of your thighs. 

“No fun in that,” he finally answers. 

“No?” You ask, pulling your lower lip between your teeth as you let your eyes take in his frame. You can see the bulge beneath his black slacks, only fueling more of your confidence. “You don’t like to roleplay?” 

“I’d much rather have the real thing.” 

“You didn’t answer my question though,” you reply. “Do you not like to roleplay?” 

His gaze darkens as he finally pulls one of his hands out of his pockets and you see just how large it is when he lightly splays it across your abdomen, sliding it further upwards between your breasts. His touch is soft, but you can feel the calluses, can feel the roughness. 

“I’ll tell you what I do like,” he whispers huskily. 

“Yeah? What’s that?” You whimper, feeling his thumb brush against your nipple before he brings his hand further up to splay against the side of your neck. Slowly, he moves his hand to the back of your head and grabs a fistful of your hair, tugging it with just the right amount of pressure for you to tilt your head back, exposing your neck and throat for him. 

“I like to be in control,” he says quietly, leaning down until his lips are near your ear. 

“Thought one of the rules was no rough play…” you point out, eyes fluttering shut as you feel his soft lips begin to nip at your earlobe. 

“We can make our own rules, baby.” 

“My first time in this club and you’re already getting me to break the rules,” you smile, moving one hand to grab onto the lapel of his blazer. 

Instead, he grabs both of your hands and pins them above your head. His grip around your wrists tighten as he pushes them into the mattress, staring into your eyes. His nose brushes against yours as the hand in your hair instead moves to cover your breast. He kneads the flesh into the pit of his palm, feeling you arch your back into his touch. 

“Something tells me you like breaking the rules,” he whispers, his hot breath fanning against your lips. “Am I right?” 

“Never had someone to break the rules with,” you whimper, feeling him pinch your nipple between his thumb and index finger. 

He smirks at that, feeling suddenly territorial over you. He pulls back enough to gaze down at you, eyes scanning every inch of your face as he commits it to memory. The way your eyes stare at him with a kind expression, giving him your undivided attention. He isn’t used to this, isn’t used to being with someone like you. You’re staring at him like he’s the only person that matters in this world and he doesn’t realize how much he craves that, how much he’s going to crave you. 

“You want someone to break the rules with?” he asks, moving his hand from your breast down your abdomen and between your legs. 

“As long as it’s with you,” you answer almost immediately. 

Wyatt (Jamie) growls at that and breaks his own rule by pressing his lips firmly against your own. Since he joined this club, he never kissed the person he was with. It seemed almost too personal, too intimate to be shared amongst strangers. In the last fifteen minutes of meeting you, he’s already yearning for more, already planning for ways to have you his. Only his. 

Your hands move to his hair, tangling your fingers into his locks as your lips move slowly against his. He groans against you, your lips so soft and inviting. 

He has to pull away, has to gather his thoughts because he’s losing control and he never loses control. Once he stands upright, he pushes off his jacket and reaches down for his belt, undoing it as he watches you scramble up further onto the bed, sliding the robe off your entire frame. He can feel his cock straining in his pants and when he finally undoes the belt, zipper, and button of his pants, he pushes it down his legs with his boxers and kicks it off to the side. 

He smirks to himself, seeing your eyes gaze down at his cock that springs at attention. He holds onto his base, veins throbbing and tip leaking with precome. 

“You’d do anything I’d ask, wouldn’t you?” Wyatt (Jamie) asks, grabbing your ankle and tugging you back to the edge of the mattress. “You’d be a good girl, listen to what I tell you to do–”

“Yes,” you say almost breathlessly. You don’t know if this is how it’s like with every person you’ll meet in this club, but he’s going to leave a really good impression on you. He’s awakening something inside of you that you’ve suppressed for so long, unsure if you’ll ever get the chance to live out the sex life you’ve always yearned for, but now he’s here – whoever he is – giving you the chance to have a much more exciting sex life. 

“Don’t interrupt me,” he growls, hand moving to your jaw. His gaze darkens, tries to search for any hesitation in your eyes, but instead, he sees a sense of willingness, a glimmer of obedience. 

“I’m sorry, sir.” 

Sir. He grins at that. 

“Such a fast learner,” he whispers, using his hand to guide his tip to your slickened heat. “Now, be a good girl and ask me nicely.” 

You bite your lower lip, staring into his eyes as you feel his warm tip press against your opening. You clench around nothing, whimpering in protest as you lift your hips impatiently off the bed. His grip around your jaw tightens. 

“Be a good girl and ask nicely,” he repeats, voice deeper, more demanding. 

“Please,” you whine out. 

“Please what?” he growls. 

“Goddammit, please fuck me!” you answer impatiently, hands reaching down to take matters into your own hands. 

He lets out a dark laugh and shakes his head, releasing his hold on your jaw to grab your hands once more, pinning them roughly to the mattress. His grip around your wrists tighten as he stares into your eyes, that same charming smile on his lips. “Am I going to have to spend the entire fucking night teaching you manners?” 

“N–No,” you whimper. “Please, I’m sorry. I just– Fuck, I need you.”

“Then… Ask. Fucking. Nicely.” he repeats. 

“Please, sir,” you moan. “Please, can you–” you gasp quietly, feeling the head of his cock push into your tight heat. When you can’t seem to find your words, he pulls out of you and smirks. 

“Continue, baby.” 

“Please,” you mumble. “C–Can you fuck me, please?” 

“Please what?”

“Sir.” 

Wyatt (Jamie) grins in accomplishment and slams into you without warning, feeling your warm heat encompass his throbbing cock. You’re so tight, so wet that sliding into you is so effortless. Your back arches as you feel every inch of his length press against your walls, a painful stretch to accommodate his size. 

And for the rest of the night, you both remain entangled in each other’s limbs, only leaving the bed to have him bend you over the dresser or to ride him in the small loveseat in the corner. 

When morning rolls around, you’re already dressed in your normal clothes and so is he. It was a night to remember – this club had initially made you anxious, but now, you’re looking forward to the next time you’ll get to meet another stranger. 

Wyatt (Jamie), on the other hand, makes sure to add your number to his phone. His mind drifts to the possibility of you being with other men – even women – in this exclusive club and he feels a sudden sense of jealousy wash over him. He reaches down and grips your hip, pulling you to him and leaning down to capture your lips with his own. He hopes that he’s made a lasting impression that no other man would ever compare to him.

Slowly, you’re the one that pulls away – a small smile lining your beautiful face and eyes gazing at him once more with such kindness. 

“I hope I see you around,” you finally say, biting your lower lip. 

“I’m sure you will,” he says with confidence. “I’ll make sure of it.”

“We don’t know each other’s names,” you let out a quiet laugh. “And I’m sure you have other women that call you–”

“You jealous?” he teases with a grin.

“And if I said I was?” 

He clears his throat quietly. “Then I’d say tough shit,” he answers. “Deal with it.” 

Your face falls momentarily, but you recover quickly and lean in to peck his lips lightly. “Well, good thing I’m not jealous then. I’m eager to meet other men after last night.”

He tightens his jaw and brings a hand up to grab another fistful of your hair. You whimper quietly, hands moving to grip his shoulders. “When you fuck those other men,” he whispers, moving his lips to your ear. “You better be thinking about me.”

Your eyes flutter shut. “Not unless there’s another man who does it better than you.” 

He growls at that, turning you around and bending you over the dresser. He wastes no time in lifting the ends of your dress over your hips as he kicks your legs apart. Wyatt (Jamie) undoes his zipper and reaches into his slacks to pull out his hardening cock – giving it one, two, three strokes before he pushes into you from behind. 

Your hands reach out to grab onto the edges of the dresser, the grip around it so tight that your knuckles turn white. You hadn’t expected that kind of reaction of him and certainly didn’t expect him to fuck you yet again – especially since you both should already have left the hotel, last night’s events the only thing to remember each other by. 

Instead, he’s fucking relentlessly into you from behind, his balls slapping against you. This time, he doesn’t care about making you come first. He wants you – no, needs you to understand that there will never be anyone like him. That you are meant for him, made for him. Only him. 

He reaches down and grabs your hands, pinning them against your lower back as he slams into you. You squirm back against him, the edge of the dresser digging into your hips that you’re sure will leave another mark on your body. 

“You’re mine,” he groans aloud, tossing his head back as he uses your tight walls to bring him closer to his own release. “You’ll only ever be mine.”

“Y–Yes!” you moan loudly, your arousal dripping out of you. The sounds of his skin slapping against yours mix in with the wet squelching noises coming from between your legs – it echoes throughout the hotel room. 

“Fucking say it,” he demands, using his free hand to grab your hair and pull you upright. “Say it. Say I’m the only one. Say you’ll only ever think of me. Say you’re mine.”

“I–I’m yours!” you moan, his hand moving from your hair to pull down the front of your dress. He covers your breast with his large hand, squeezing it tightly as he thrusts into you repeatedly. “I–I’ll only ever think of you, fuck, please!” 

“Please what?” he groans into your ear. “Tell me what you need, baby.”

“Need to come!” 

Wyatt (Jamie) groans and empties his seed into you, your walls milking every last drop he has to give you. He pulls out and growls at the sight of his release trickling down the inside of your legs. You’re trembling, hands reaching out to rest on the dresser for stability once he releases his hold on you. He tucks himself back into his slacks and gives your ass a rough slap, smirking to himself. 

“Wait, but–” you whimper in protest, turning around slowly to face him with furrowed brows. “I didn’t–I didn’t come.”

“That’s too bad, isn’t it?” he smirks, grabbing his phone and keys from his pocket. 

“Are you really going to leave me like this?” 

He steps towards you and cups your cheek lightly, staring into your eyes. “You know my number, baby. Give it a call when you need me.” 

“Maybe I’ll call someone else,” you pout, walking away from him to go into the bathroom, cleaning yourself up from the mess he’s made between your legs. 

He narrows his eyes and tilts his head. He’s trying not to let this get to him, to let you get to him, but he can’t help it. He clears his throat and walks towards the door of the bathroom, watching you toss the toilet paper into the trash as you make yourself more presentable. 

“Maybe next time,” you begin to say, walking past him and towards your bag that’s resting on the mattress. “Maybe next time you’ll be the one that should be good for me.” 

He chuckles at that. He feels his feet glued to the floor as he watches you walk towards the door of the hotel room. “Don’t think that’s how this works, baby.” 

“Guess we’ll see next time then, hm?” you throw him a smile over your shoulder and open the door. Before walking out into the hallway, you turn to him and nod in his direction. “Thank you, by the way. For last night. For what happened just a few minutes ago.”

He nods, feeling an unfamiliar warmth blossom in his chest. “You made it easy, baby. Welcome to the club.” 

MEETING “WYATT BOSE” — The next time you see him, it’s unexpected. You’re working at the local library, reading a book at the front desk when he walks in. The same charming smile, a confidence and swagger that he walks with. His eyes scan the building, unsure of exactly what he’s looking for, but he walks further into the library and disappears into one of the aisles. It makes your heart race even faster as your mind drifts to the night you shared with him almost six months ago. You had been more regularly part of this club now – men now giving you a call instead of the other way around. 

He was right, though. Every other man you had been with him after him wasn’t the same. Sure, it was by far better sex than what you would have had with your ex-boyfriend, but it never was quite as amazing as your first time with him. Even as you came, you imagined him. 

You stand from the front desk, telling your coworker that you were going to put some books away. Truthfully, it was just an excuse to find him – the stranger that had left a lasting impression on you. 

You’re pushing a cart of books, going through each aisle. You’re distracted, putting two books away in its appropriate place and then glancing around to see if you can even get a glimpse of him. It feels like maybe you might have just imagined him, maybe your mind is playing tricks on you. 

With a heavy sigh, you round the corner and see him standing with his arms crossed over his chest. He’s wearing yet another suit and that same fucking charming smile lining his beautiful lips. He’s gazing at you with an already darkened gaze. 

“Well, hello you.” 

“It’s really you,” you whisper, gripping the handle of the cart. 

“You never called again.” 

“Hm,” you answer. “I never received a call from you either and I saw you save my number that night, so I know you had–”

He steps towards you, removing one hand from his pocket to gently brush his thumb across your cheekbone. “You’ve been very popular, from what I’ve been hearing.” 

You clear your throat, feeling a quiet gasp escape your lips at his touch. “Maybe not that popular if you never called.” 

He chuckles, thumb moving lower to brush against your lower lip. “You miss me, baby?” 

“No,” you lie. 

He just smirks. “You’re such a fucking liar.” He grips your chin and pulls you to him. He removes his other hand from his pocket and lifts it up to gently brush against your nametag. Now he knows your name – another rule broken. 

“Pretty name,” he whispers. 

“You gonna tell me yours?” 

He grins, hand moving from your chin to splay against the side of your neck instead. His thumb brushes against your throat down towards your collarbone. “No names, remember?” 

“Well, that isn’t fair though, is it? You know mine.” 

“Didn’t ask you though. You’re wearing a nametag.” 

“What if I say please?”  

“Would you get on your knees and then say please?” He asks. He’d be lying if he said that he didn’t think about you, didn’t think about that night you shared. 

“You’ll have to give me a call if you want me on my knees in front of you, baby.” 

He smiles to himself, tilts his head as he gazes into your eyes. Since Jonathan had let him go freely almost a year ago, Wyatt (Jamie) had tried to change his ways, tried to live a better life, but old habits die hard. It wasn’t until he met you that he started thinking about things other than money. 

How could one person leave such a lasting impression on him? 

“Just because we’re in public doesn’t mean that I wouldn’t take you in the bathroom–”

“If you want me that badly, then give me a call.”

His eyes narrow as he moves his grip around your throat. He pushes you against the dark corner and moves his free hand against the wall near your head, staring deeply into your eyes. “Thought we established that you don’t interrupt me.” 

“Maybe I need another reminder on how to be a good girl,” you whisper, feeling his grip around your throat tightening, leaving you almost gasping for air. 

He grins, loosening his grip around your throat. He likes that you can match him, can leave him speechless like this. “Wyatt.” 

“What?”

“Name’s Wyatt.” He lies, dropping his hand to your cheek and slowly he leans in, lips lightly brushing against yours. “I’m gonna kiss you now, unless you want me to give you a call for that,” he teases. 

You don’t answer. Instead, you reach up to grab him by the end of his tie and pull him into you. You press your lips firmly against his own as his hand slides to cup the back of your neck. He growls lowly against you, sliding his leg between your own. 

He’s missed the feeling of your lips, has missed the sounds you make. He feels you roll your hips against his strong thigh and he smirks, pulling away from the kiss to look down at you. Your pupils are blown out, lips slightly parted, and gaze filled with want, with desire, with need. 

“Wyatt,” you whisper. 

His smirk falters momentarily at the sound of his “name” leaving your lips and it’s in that moment he contemplates what it would sound like if you had said his real name. 

“I’ll give you a call,” he says. “Tonight. I’ll give you a call tonight.” 

“And if you don’t?” 

“Then you know my number,” he winks. 

You bite your lower lip and pull him back to you, the front of his body now pressing firmly against yours. He keeps his hand pressed against the wall above your head as he stares into your eyes. 

“What?” He asks quietly. 

You smile, shaking your head and leaning up to press your lips gently on his cheek. “Hope I get to see you tonight, Wyatt,” you whisper into his ear. “Until then, I suppose.” 

—

Wyatt had given you a call just a couple of hours after seeing you. When the phone rang and you heard his voice on the other end of the line, an excitement bubbled within you. 

Excitement. Anticipation. Yearning. 

And now, you’re entering the lobby of the hotel that Wyatt had told you he would be at tonight. You look around and bite your lower lip when you see him standing there with a small smile. He’s wearing a simple black t-shirt over a coat and black slacks. He nods in your direction and you walk over to him, biting your lower lip nervously. It feels like it’s your first time all over again. 

“Meeting me in the lobby?” You tease. “That’s new.”

“Well, consider me excited to see you.” He grabs your jacket and pulls you to him, feeling your hands reach out to rest on his chest. “Been thinking about you.” 

“Oh yeah?” You ask, moving your hands from his chest to wrap around his shoulders. 

“Yeah,” he moves his lips to your ear, gently nipping at your earlobe. “Don’t think I forgot about you interrupting me earlier,” he growls lowly. “And how maybe I need to fucking remind you that I’m in control here.” 

You bite your lower lip and shut your eyes, tilting your head back to expose more of your neck for him. He takes the hint, moves his lips down the side of your neck with gentle kisses. “I don’t think you have control after not calling me for six months.” 

Wyatt (Jamie) growls. He tightens his jaw and bites down on the side of your neck, sucking on it roughly to leave a mark. He hears you let out a quiet whimper and he pulls away, looking down at you. “Keeping track of how long we haven’t seen each other, huh?” 

You narrow your eyes. “Just a guess. I have been pretty busy with other men and–”

Wyatt (Jamie) glances at the growing mark that’s darkening on the side of your neck. He feels suddenly territorial again. “Hm, we’re not gonna be talking about other men, are we?” 

“That depends. Will you be as good as the first time?” 

He chuckles, his gaze darkening even further. He’s finding that he enjoys this little game that you play with him. He leans in and whispers huskily into your ear. “We both know that you’ve been thinking of me while you were with those other men. Now, let’s get upstairs before I take you where you fucking stand and show these people who exactly you fucking belong to.” 

You nod, too obediently, and pull away from him slowly. You take his hand in his and lace your fingers with his own. The action takes him off guard, because for a split second, you see a surprised look flash across his features. He squeezes your hand and takes you to the elevators. 

Wyatt. You would be lying if you said you hadn’t tried to look him up earlier that day. You didn’t know his last name, but how common was the name Wyatt anyway? Apparently very fucking common because every Wyatt that exists showed up in your search except him. You knew you were playing a dangerous game – trying to get to know more about him, to find ways to spend more time with him outside of this. 

He pulls you out of your thoughts by releasing your hand and instead resting his own on your lower back. He steps into the elevator with you and presses the top floor, leaning back against the railing as he looks at you. Really looks at you. 

You’re biting your lower lip, eyes staring up at the numbers at the top of the elevator as it highlights for each floor you’re passing. Wyatt (Jamie) is starting to feel an unfamiliar warmth settle in the pit of his stomach. He has to wonder if this was how Jonathan and S felt for each other – the possibility of something more real. 

For once, he imagines sharing his life with someone else, with you. He imagines that it’d be filled with a lot of laughter, intense intimacy… but he also believes that he’d feel a sense of belonging with you – something that he’s been lacking for most of his life. 

But then he thinks about having to tell you the truth, having to be honest with you and with himself. His name isn’t Wyatt. Not only has he lied to you, but he’s also hiding the fact that he’s a dangerous man. Manipulative. Conniving. Murderous. Why would anyone like you ever be okay with someone like him? 

When the elevator doors finally open to the top floor, he watches you step out and waits for him patiently, eyes lighting up with a cute fucking smile on your face. There’s a part of him that wants to spend the entire night just getting to know you. He yearns to know more about you… aside from the information he’s already found when searching you up online. 

He was able to find you pretty quickly – an outdated Facebook account, but a more active Instagram account instead. Facebook tells him that you’re newly single, having gotten out of a relationship almost six months ago, which makes him wonder if you were still in a relationship or not when you two first met. He also knows you’re a librarian, but instagram tells him so much more about you. 

You like going to coffee shops, taking pictures of the different cups of coffee you order. He also finds that you like working out, being outdoors, and being active. You’re family oriented – he’s noticed from the handful of pictures you’ve posted with your family on birthdays and holidays. 

As Wyatt (Jamie) had searched you online earlier that day, he continued to imagine how he would fit into your life. And every time he tries to imagine it, he’s always left with a tug in the pit of his stomach that reminds him that as long as you don’t know the truth about him, he can never fit into your life. 

“You gonna show me where to go?” You ask, finally pulling him out of his thoughts. 

He lets out a quiet breath and flashes you a broad grin, slipping back into the same persona that you’re used to. “That eager, huh?” 

“I mean, you called me so we’re on my time.” 

“Oh, we are? You got somewhere else to be?” He walks over to you, wrapping his arms around you from behind as he leads you to the door at the end of the hall. 

“And what if I do?” You ask, leaning back into him. “What if there’s another person I’m supposed to meet, hm?” 

He reaches over to swipe his hotel key card over the door and opens it for you. He pushes you inside roughly, shutting the door behind him as he turns you around and pushes you against the door. He hears you let out a gasp, eyes staring into his own and filled with desire. 

“You just like to push me, don’t you?” He asks, moving his hand to wrap around your throat. He sees the corner of your lips lift upwards. “You think this is a game, baby?” 

You nod slowly, feeling his grip tighten. “Mmm,” you mumble out. 

Wyatt (Jamie) darkens his gaze, stepping up to you as he moves his lips to your ear. “You fucking belong to me,” he whispers. “Do you understand?” 

You nod again, feeling the wetness begin to pool between your legs. “D–Does that mean you belong to me too?” You manage to whisper, his grip around your tight lessening to let you speak, to let you take a breath. 

He stares down at you, feels his resolve faltering for a moment at your question. Instead of answering, he drops his hand from your through and leans in to press his lips firmly against your own. It’s urgent, rushed, messy. 

Your arms wrap around him, bringing your hands to his hair and running your fingers through his locks. You part your lips and feel his tongue move past your lips  – your tongue now dancing with his, matching the intensity of this kiss. His hands move to reach around and grip your ass in his large hands. He feels his pants become increasingly tighter as he pushes against you. 

Pulling back, he stares down at you and narrows his eyes. You’re staring up at him with a dazed look on your face as he takes your hand and brings you further into the hotel room. He removes his jacket and sets it on the chair off to the side. 

“On your knees,” he says, turning back around to look at you. He reaches down and undoes his belt, a smirk lining his lips. 

You arch your brow and tilt your head, removing your own jacket as you stand before him in a pair of jeans and a white low v-neck. 

“Don’t make me tell you again,” he growls, eyes taking in your frame. How can you be so beautiful when dressed so casually? 

“Can I take my pants off first?” You ask quietly, hands reaching down to begin undoing the zipper and button of your jeans. 

“Since you asked so nicely,” he nods in your direction and watches you begin to push your jeans down your legs, clad in a white v-neck and a pair of white panties. Then, you stand in front of him and slowly kneel down until you’re on your knees in front of him. 

“Look beautiful like this,” he points out, bringing a hand down to cup your cheek, brushing his thumb gently across your skin. He pushes down his pants and boxers, his cock now springing to attention in front of you. He kicks off his pants and boxers to the side, using his free hand to take hold of his base. He steps forward and glides the head of his length across your lips, his precome smearing across your lips. “Fuck,” he growls. 

Slowly, you part your lips for him, darting your tongue out to slide across his tip. He loses his resolve for a moment, sliding his tip past your lips and feeling you lap at his precome. He moves his hand from his base to grip around your hair, pushing his hips forward so that more of his cock disappears in your mouth. 

Your eyes gazes up at him, hands moving to rest on his thighs to prevent him from moving any further. His tip touches the back of your throat and you pull back to take a deep breath. He stares down at you and releases his hold on your hair to reach down and grab the ends of his shirt. Once he tosses it aside, he pushes back into your mouth and places both hands on your head. He hears you gagging and holds you firmly against him, feeling your saliva begin to coat his entire length. When he pulls back, he stares down at you and sees your lips swollen and parted for him, chest heaving as you try to take a deep breath. 

“Tell me,” he groans, pushing his hips forward for his cock to slide into your mouth. “Tell me that you’ve thought about me when you’ve been with all those other men. Tell me that you always think about me,” he groans, thrusting his hips forward. “Tell me that you’ll only ever be with me.”

He pulls back and watches you catch your breath, nodding up at him in response. 

“Say it,” he says. 

“It will only ever be you, Wyatt,” you answer honestly. “Even when I’m alone, all I think about is you. Who you are, what you do, how you can fit into my life,” you admit, slowly standing up and grabbing his shoulder to push him into the bed. He falls back as he looks up at you, his gaze softening momentarily. 

You pull your shirt over your head and undo your bra, completely exposed and bare for him as you straddle his waist and reach down to grab a hold of his cock. Slowly, you slide down his length and let out a quiet moan, his girth and size stretching you only in a way that he can. “I think I could fall in love with you,” you whisper almost inaudibly as you push yourself further onto him until you’re firmly sitting on his lap, his manhood sheathed within your tight, warm, and wet heat. 

Wyatt (Jamie) could have come right there. He stares up at you, taking note of your head tilted back with your arms pressing against his chest. You’re moving your hips slowly in a forward and backward motion, but all his eyes can focus on is you. 

I think I could fall in love with you. It lingers in his mind, mixes in with the sounds of your moans. He sits up, arms wrapping around your waist as he guides you to move forward in his lap. He leans in and presses his lips against the side of your neck, nipping and teeth grazing across your skin. He’s obsessed with you.

“Wyatt,” you moan, arms wrapping around his shoulders as the hair at his base brushes against your bundle of nerves. 

Something takes over him and moves a hand to your throat, applying just the right amount of pressure. He doesn’t want to hear you say that name because it isn’t actually his. He thrusts his hips upwards, your moan coming out almost inaudibly to the tight grip he has around your throat. 

“You’re only ever going to be mine,” he growls. The sounds of skin slapping against skin echoes throughout the hotel room and you reach up to wrap your hand around his wrist. “Ain’t no one gonna be with you but me.” He presses his feet against the floor and slams upwards into you. He releases his hold on your throat and hears you take a deep breath. 

“A–As long as I’m the only one you’ll be with too,” you answer through a loud moan. 

He slowly rolls you onto your back and slams into you. His thrusts pick up in speed, the tightness in his lower abdomen beginning to build and build as he uses you at his disposal. He’s afraid of what this could be, afraid of what you could mean to him, because he can imagine a life with you. He doesn’t answer you though, determined to fuck the idea out of you. He’s sure that once he tells you the truth that you’re going to want nothing to do with him and he isn’t sure that he’s ready to let go of you just yet. 

“I’m gonna come,” you moan, feeling his hands grip your wrists to pin them above your head. 

“Yeah, you are,” he groans. “Fucking come for me, baby.” 

That’s all it takes. You shut your eyes and arch your back, the tip of his cock kissing your cervix repeatedly as your body begins to tremble. Your walls tighten even further around him and his hips stutter, unable to hold back himself as he releases into you abruptly. He pulls out of you and watches his come trickle out of you, the sight causing him to grab ahold of his length and pushing into you once more. 

“Wyatt!” you exclaim, reaching down to push against his lower abdomen. “Wait- Baby, wait–”

“No,” he groans, grabbing your hands once more and holding them firmly against the mattress. He continues to thrust into you, looking down at where you’re connected and seeing his come mix in with your arousal. “Fuck, you look good like this.” 

Your eyes flutter, squirming against him as the sensations become too overwhelming. “Wyatt, please… I can’t–”

“You were made for me,” he interrupts, using his free hand to draw circles against the bundle of your nerves. “And only for me. D’ya understand me?”

“Y–Yes!” you can feel your body giving way to him as yet another orgasm approaches. “Wyatt–”

“It’s Jamie,” he corrects. “Call me Jamie.”

Your brows furrow in confusion and stare into his eyes, but he looks determined. Your mind is all over the place and it doesn’t help that he’s still thrusting into you with his thumb circling your clit. “J– Jamie!” you moan loudly and he groans to himself, pulling out of you to watch your body shake through another orgasm. 

He moves to lie on his back and bites his lower lip, glancing over in your direction. “That’s my real name.” 

You’re breathing heavily, trying to catch your breath as you slowly move to lie on your side. “Why’d you give me a fake name?” 

He clears his throat and looks down at you. Quickly, he comes up with an excuse and feels your fingertips run along his chest. “Guess I was still a bit hesitant giving you my real name at the time.”

You nod slowly and then lean up to kiss his cheek. “That’s fair. I’d probably give you a fake name too if you hadn’t seen my nametag.”

Jamie lets out a relieved sigh and then wraps his arm around your shoulders, bringing you close to his side. 

“I meant it,” you say quietly. “I’d only ever wanna be with you… as long as I’m the only one that you’d be with too.”

He tilts his head and glances down at you. “You don’t know what you’re getting into, baby.”

“I’m thinking…” you whisper, slowly moving to straddle his waist again. “I’m thinking I’d do anything for you.”

“You don’t even know me.”

“Then give me a chance to.”

THE TRUTH AND AGREEMENT — It’s been a week since the last time you’ve seen him. You aren’t sure whether you’re ignoring him or he’s ignoring you. Neither of you have tried to give the other person a call, but despite the things he’s told you, it surprisingly doesn’t deter you from wanting him. 

You’re at work again, reading a book at the front desk when you hear someone clear their throat. Slowly shutting your book and looking up, your eyes slightly widen at the sight of him standing in front of you. He’s dressed more casually today, a black t-shirt underneath a dark colored jacket paired with jeans. His eyes soften at the sight of you as he glances at the clock over your shoulder. 

“What time are you off?” he asks.

“Well, hello to you too.”

“Hi.” he sighs. “What time are you off?” he repeats.

“Not for another few hours. You haven’t reached out,” you answer. 

“Neither did you.”

“I wasn’t sure–” you bite your lower lip. “I’m sorry.”

“Shouldn’t be.” 

“I still want to–”

“Meet me after you get off work?” he interrupts. 

Excitement flickers in your eyes and he lets a small smile line his lips at the sight. “Where?” 

Jamie takes his phone out and hands it to you. It’s his personal phone, not the flip phone that he uses for the club. “I’ll text you.”

You nod and enter your personal phone number as a contact in his phone before you hand it over to him. “I’ll see you soon, Jamie.” 

His eyes gazes up at you at the sound of his name leaving your lips. He isn’t sure why it has so much of an effect on him, why the way you’re smiling at him makes him want to just reach over and kiss you. This isn’t what he usually does – he doesn’t see the same person more than once, at least not if there’s anything that could benefit him. 

He says your name quietly and then looks over his shoulder to see someone standing in line, waiting for him to be done. “I’ll see you soon,” he repeats. 

Stepping off to the side, Jamie watches you interact with the person behind him. He notices the way your eyes light up, your smile so broad and infectious. Even when your eyes meet his momentarily, he feels the faintest feeling of warmth in the pit of his stomach, blossoming further into his chest. 

He doesn’t know what this means, but he really needs to figure it out soon. He needs to gain back control because he fucking hates feeling like this. 

He’s scared. Scared because he finally told you the truth and he isn’t sure if he’s going to lose you because of it. If you do decide that you no longer want this, then Jamie will have to make sure that you don’t talk about it to anyone else… which means having to clean up loose ends. 

Which means having to get rid of you. 

—

A few hours later, you’re driving to the hotel that Jamie sent you the address for. There’s an excitement bubbling within you, but not because of the possibility of having sex with him again, but because you’ll finally get to know more about him. To anyone else, they’d have run and cut ties with him the moment they found out the truth.

When you park your car in the parking garage, you’re surprised to see Jamie standing near the elevator with his arms in his pockets. You take a deep breath, trying to hide your excitement and the smile that’s itching to spread across your lips when you climb out. He walks over to you and gently takes your hand – a complete difference than what you’re used to with him. 

“Hey,” he says first. 

“Hi,” you answer. 

“Figured we could talk,” Jamie says quietly. “That okay?” 

“Yeah, more than okay.” You can tell he’s nervous, anxious because he won’t meet your eyes and the gentleness and softness he’s displaying isn’t what you’re used to. He’s always been so in control, so rough with you that this makes you a little uneasy. 

Once inside the hotel and elevators, Jamie releases your hand and presses the button to the top floor. Turning around to face you, his eyes take in your frame before he walks closer to you. Slowly, he cages you in between his body and the railing of the elevator, his own hands resting against the railing as he stares into your eyes. 

“You know you shouldn’t even be around me after everything I’ve told you,” he whispers hesitantly. 

Jamie lets out a quiet and shaky breath when he feels your hands come up to rest against his cheeks, thumbs brushing against his jawline. 

“I said I’d do anything for you, Jamie,” you answer. “I know I should leave, shouldn’t even be here with you, but I just–” you bite your lower lip. “I can’t imagine never seeing you again.” 

Before he can say anything, the doors to the elevator open and he pulls away from you. Gently once more, he takes your hand and leads you to the room at the end of the hall where he opens the door for you. He steps inside with you and takes your bag, setting it down on the counter as his hands move to your hips, guiding you further into the room and onto the bed. 

“I’ve killed people before,” he admits out loud. “I’m a greedy man. I’m not– I’m not a good person, but I can promise you that I’d do anything to give you the life that you deserve.” 

Slowly, you turn around and run your hands through his hair. “I should run from you,” you say honestly. “You’re the type of man that people warn women about… toxic, dangerous…” your eyes gaze into his, watching as he stares at you deeply. “But I want you… what does that say about me?” 

Jamie shrugs. “I don’t know,” he answers honestly. “But if you decide that you want this… You’re going to have to commit yourself to me. There’s no leaving this, there’s no leaving me.”

“And if I choose not to want this?”

His jaw tightens. “I think you know what I’ll have to do.”

“Well then, do you need a partner?” you ask with a small smile, biting your lower lip. 

Jamie narrows his eyes, moving his hand to rest on your neck lightly. “I do it alone,” he whispers. “I’d be the one in control. You do what I tell you to do.”

You nod, hand coming up to rest over his wrist. “Y–Yes, sir.”

Sir. 

“So, what do you want?” he asks hesitantly, thumb brushing against your throat.

“You.” you answer immediately. “Whatever that means, I’m in it. I’m in this.”

Jamie lets out a relieved breath and gently tightens his hand around your throat. “I’m the one with the power… I’m the one that tells you where to go, what to do…” 

You nod. “I’ll do anything… as long as I just have you, Jamie.”

His gaze darkens and he releases his hold from you to push you back against the bed. Jamie places a hand on the mattress as he leans down over you, lips brushing against yours. “You don’t call me by my name,” he says. “You never call me by my name from now on.”

“But your name is so–”

He clicks his tongue and roughly rolls you over onto your abdomen. Quickly, he tugs down your skirt with your panties as you lean over the edge of the bed, ass in the air for him. Without hesitation, he brings his hand back only to connect with your ass cheek, the sound of the slap echoing the large hotel room. 

“You don’t talk back either,” he points out. “When you go against what I say, what I tell you, this is punishment.” 

You nod, letting out a quiet whimper as you feel the sting of his slap rush through your entire body. You grip the sheets tightly, looking over your shoulder at him. “Okay…”

He shakes his head and slaps your ass roughly once more, seeing your cheek redden instantly with the imprint of his large hand. “Hmm… Not good enough of an answer.”

“Yes, sir. I don’t talk back. I do what you say. I go where you tell me. I’ll do anything for you.” 

“Good,” he smirks, sliding in two of his thick fingers past your folds. His brows lift upwards at the feel of your slickness and he leans over to whisper into your ear. “You like being punished, hm?” 

“I just like when you touch me,” you moan, the roughness of his fingers thrusting in and out of you causing your toes to curl. It’s painful, the way he’s moving his fingers in and out of your depths so roughly, but you can’t help the way your body reacts to him. 

“Well, it isn’t quite a punishment if you like it then, is it?” he asks, pulling his fingers out of you abruptly. He looks down at his hand, the way your slickness drips down and he brings it to his lips, letting out a low growl at the taste of you. 

“Wait, but–”

He shakes his head and moves to sit on the edge of the bed with you, resting his hands on the mattress as he looks over at you. His eyes move to your backside, can see your slickness along the length of your sex slowly begin to trickle out of you. It glistens under the light and he wants nothing more than to bury his face between your legs, but he can’t. He needs to show some restraint, needs to stay in control. 

“You only see me from now on, are we clear?” he asks, reaching for you to kneel down in front of him. 

You scramble to your feet and drop to your knees between his legs, hands resting on your thighs as you stare up at him. You nod obediently, batting your eyelashes up at him. “Yes, sir.”

“We’re gonna the rule the world, baby,” he grins. “You and me.” He reaches down and cups your cheek, using his free hand to undo the button and zipper of his pants as he lowers it to his ankles. 

Your eyes widen at the sight of his throbbing cock, now fully erect and leaking at the tip. You lick your lips, eager to wrap your lips around him as your hands itch to reach out for him. “I’ll do whatever you want me to do,” you reply. 

“Won’t be easy,” he admits, stroking himself at the sight of you on your knees in front of him. 

“I’ll do whatever it takes,” you answer. “The only thing I need is you.” 

His eyes soften at that. He’s not used to feeling like this – usually, he’d have to negotiate or offer some cut of the money he’d receive, but with you… it’s easy because you don’t want any of those things. You just want him and he can’t help but feel that same warmth in his chest again. He won’t ever admit it out loud, but he’d do anything for you too. 

He doesn’t answer, but instead brings his tip past your lips. You’re eagerly lapping at his precome, sucking his tip as he continues to stroke the base of his length. He groans quietly to himself, pulling back to run his tip across your wet lips. “Such a good girl for me,” he says lowly. “And I think good girls get a reward.” 

“Please…” 

“And begging too? Yeah, baby, you get a reward.” He gently lifts you back on the bed as he lies back. “Over my face.”

Your eyes widen, clearing your throat anxiously as you do what he says. He moves further up the bed as you settle yourself over him, hands resting on the headframe as his lips hover inches away from your throbbing heat. With one arm, he reaches up and rests it over your waist, bringing you down until your sex is firmly pressed over his mouth. 

“Oh god,” you whimper, hands gripping the headboard of the bed frame. No one’s ever done this before and you’re unsure of how long you’d actually last because his mouth sucks your clit aggressively, tongue flicking against you repeatedly. You feel so vulnerable like this, completely at his mercy. You want to scream his name, but you force yourself not to. 

His eyes flutter closed as his mouth laps at your juices. You’re so wet, dripping down his chin as he moves his lips towards your hole. He flicks his tongue against you as his other hand continues to stroke himself, squeezing the base of his cock at the taste of you. He hums against you, causing a vibration to reverberate through your entire body. 

Your legs are placed at either side of his head and you begin to roll your hips against his face, feeling his tongue flatten along the length of your sex. You look down at him, the look on his face only urging you closer to your orgasm. You lift your hips slightly and he growls, shaking his head as he removes his arm from your waist to thrust two fingers inside of you. He wastes no time in thrusting his fingers as he moves to suck your clit with his mouth, tongue flicking against your bundle of nerves. 

“Baby,” you whimper. “Baby, please… I’m close–” 

His hand around his cock quickens, gripping his base tightly as he feels his own release approach. He feels a tightness in the pit of his stomach begin to build as his free hand continues to pump his fingers in and out of you as his lips pay close attention to your clit. 

Your grip around the headboard tightens until his knuckles turn white from the grip, your body trembling and shaking against him. You lift your hips away from his mouth as his fingers fill you to the knuckle. He smirks up at you, curling his fingers within your walls to help you ride out your orgasm. At the sight of you gripping the headboard, head tilted back and mouth agape, Jamie thrusts his hips slightly off the bed as he finds his own release. His come lands on his shirt, letting out a loud groan. 

Slowly, you lift yourself until his fingers slide out of you and you look over at him, seeing his hand continue to stroke himself. Quickly, you kneel down between his legs and wrap your lips around his tip, sucking the remnants of his come into your mouth and swallowing eagerly. 

He shudders against you, eyes gazing down at you as he slows his strokes, the feeling of your lips and tongue at his tip causing a shiver to run through him.

When his cock finally softens, he sits up and removes his shirt and pulls on his boxers. You bite your lower lip and move to lie down on the bed instead, feeling him lie down with you as his arms wrap around your frame. 

“If I can’t call you by your name,” you whisper quietly. “Can I call you baby instead?” you ask. 

He smiles and leans down to peck your lips lightly. “I like that, baby.” 

You grin and bury your face against his chest. “I think I’m gonna like this life with you.”

He looks down at you, watches your eyes flutter closed as the same warmth blossoms in his chest again. 

THE CON — It’s been about six months since your agreement with Jamie and you both managed to slip into a routine with each other. It’s almost domestic, how easy your life has entangled itself with his own. Right after the agreement, he tells you to move in with him, having found out that he lives permanently at the hotel, living on the top floor. You don’t disagree with him, instead, you agree and break your lease, moving most of your things to his place within a week. 

He takes you to work, picks you up, and every night, he makes sure to show you just how good of a decision you made with choosing him. You find yourself falling for him more and more every day, but there’s a part of you that’s too afraid to tell him. Afraid because if you admit how you truly felt about him, you aren’t sure how he’s going to react. You know that you’re a liability; at any moment, he can change his mind about you and you’d know that there would be nothing that you can do if that were to ever happen. 

So, you love him in silence. You stare at him lovingly when he’s cooking for you or when he’s working. You go to sleep every night with your arms wrapped around him, focusing on the sound of his breath to lull you to sleep. When he’s too busy, you make sure to cook him dinner so that he remembers to eat. You hope that he can see how much you’d do for him, how much you’d sacrifice for him. 

You haven’t seen the type of man he makes himself out to be. He’s sweet, considerate, thoughtful. You wonder if he’s hiding that part of himself from you – the man who’s killed, who’s greedy, who would do anything to make sure that he benefits from it. 

By the time he gets home, you’re seated on the love seat with a book in your hands. It’s late, but you like to stay up and wait for him until he gets home. You see the smile on his face and when he looks over at you, his eyes light up. 

“Hey,” he walks over to you and removes his coat, setting it over the back of the couch as he leans down and kisses the crown of your head.

“Hey, what’s got you smiling?” you tease, looking up at him.

“I found my next job,” he grins and gently takes your book from your hand, setting it on the coffee table as he picks you up and sits in the love seat with you on his lap. “Everything’s going to work out perfectly. In just over a month, we’ll have made more than five million dollars.”

Your eyes widen as you wrap your arm around his shoulders. “F– Five million dollars, baby? Oh my god…”

He nods with a grin. “Five million fucking dollars.” 

“What can I do?” you ask, biting your lower lip. “Can I do anything to help?” 

“Oh baby,” he says, leaning up to peck your lips. “There’s plenty of things you can do to help.” 

“Yeah?” you ask with a hopeful look on your face.

“Yeah, but first…” he bites his lower lip and brings a hand to cup your cheek, leaning in to rest his forehead against yours. “I want you. Gonna spend the entire night showing you how grateful I am of you.” 

You smile, staring deeply into his eyes as you run your hands through his hair. “Baby, I–”

“I know,” he whispers, interrupting you. 

“You know?” 

He nods. “Yeah.”

“Is that okay?” 

Jamie bites the inside of his cheek, eyes gazing into yours. He had noticed the way you would look at him when you thought he wasn’t looking, how much care and love you put into everything that you did for him… The five million dollars payout after this job was not only going to be for him, but also for you and what he can do with the money to make sure you had a life that you deserved. 

He knew that had fallen in love with you too, especially when his mind had drifted to you when he realized the amount of money that he could walk away with. It was no longer just him. You were now in the picture and he can’t imagine his life without you in it now. 

“Yeah, that’s okay, baby,” he finally answers. 

You smile, letting out a breath of relief. Slowly, you move to straddle his lap, continuing to run your fingers through his hair as you begin to roll your hips against his own. You had been dressed in one of his old t-shirts and nothing else, your wetness beginning to stain his pants. 

“You gonna make a mess on these expensive pants, baby?” he asks, hands moving up your thighs. “Because I don’t know how I’d feel about that. These are very expensive.” 

“Then take ‘em off,” you whisper, leaning in to peck his lips. 

“Oh, did we forget who’s the one in control here? The one in charge?” he asks, gripping your hips tightly. 

“I– I’m sorry…” you mumble, ceasing your movements as you lift your hips off his lap. 

He growls lowly, wrapping his arms around your waist and standing up from the love seat. Slowly, he walks you over to the couch and sets you down as he kneels between your legs. He holds your legs open for him, gaze darkening with lust at the sight of your sex glistening with your slickness. 

“The things I’m gonna do to you,” he says with a low tone.

—

“So, are we clear on the plan again?” he asks, readjusting his black jacket as he stares at you in a skin tight red dress. He lets his eyes rake over your frame, feeling slightly jealous that you’re likely going to be dancing with the man that he’s been getting close to, the man that’s going to be the reason why he’s getting five million dollars. 

“Yes, baby,” you tell him, straightening out your dress. “Buy him a drink, ask him to dance, leave him wanting more.” 

“Good,” he answers, wrapping his arms around you from behind. “Just a dance, nothing else.”

You nod in agreement. “I’m going home with you,” you repeat. “This will just give him the confidence that he lacks and you’ll be there to cheer him on, to get him to trust you even more so than he does now.”

He grins. “Yeah, baby. Good. Good.” 

“Five million dollars for you, right?” you smile.

“For us,” he corrects. “It’s going to be for us,” he admits. 

“I love you,” you whisper quietly, turning around in his arms and bringing a hand to rest on his cheek gently. “Let’s have some fun tonight.”

His heart races at your words and he nods, turning his head to gently press his lips against your palm. He pulls back and then takes your hand, leading you out of the hotel room and towards the elevators. Once at the lobby, he releases your hand and gently kisses your cheek. “I’ll see you at the club, baby.”

You nod and then run your hands down the lapels of his jacket before you turn around on your heel and walk out of the hotel. He looks around the lobby, his hands placed in his pockets as he watches the men in the lobby turn their heads to watch you walk away. He feels a mixture of emotions – jealousy and pride. Pride because you’re his, but jealous because other men are looking at what’s his. 

With a heavy sigh, he stretches his neck and then grabs his phone from his pocket to dial the man’s number. 

—

Jamie’s leaning back against the seat, drink in hand as he fakes genuine laughter at what the other man’s saying. His eyes scan the room, noticing the splash of red in the midst of neutral dark colors. Your eyes meet his and he smiles, watching as you bite the tip of your straw to sip on your drink. 

Then, he turns his attention back to the other man, listening to him go on and on about his divorce and how he hadn’t been able to meet anyone new. 

“Oh come on, Daniel,” Jamie says with that same charismatic grin on his lips. “A man like you can’t get another woman?”

“To be honest,” he whispers, fidgeting in his seat. “I haven’t been with anyone other than my ex-wife. I doubt a woman would want to be with a man who’s inexperienced like me.” 

“You’d be surprised,” he answers. “Because it looks like that one has been looking at you since we got here.” Jamie points his chin in your direction, watching Daniel turn in his seat to look over at you. 

“No– No way. She’s looking at you.”

Jamie laughs, shaking his head. “Her eyes are all on you and she’s walking over here.” He stands from the bar stool and gently slaps a strong hand over Daniel’s shoulder. “I’m gonna head to the bathroom. You go and have some fun.”

“Wait, but–” 

Jamie’s already walking away by the time you make your way to Daniel. You’re leaning against the counter of the bar, biting your lower lip innocently as you wave your hand to get the bartender’s attention. “His next round is on me,” you tell the bartender with a sweet smile. 

Daniel clears his throat. “I– I– I’m sorry. You didn’t have to do that and–” he loses his words when he feels your soft touch on his forearm, eyelashes batting up in his direction.

“Is it too unconventional for the woman to buy the man a drink?” you tease. 

“N– No,” he stutters. “I’m just not used to women buying a drink for me… or women looking at me in general,” he mumbles under his breath. 

“Well, good thing I’m not like most women.” 

Daniel nods, eyes lingering on your frame. The bartender sets down another drink for him and you lean in, lips near his ear as you whisper over the loud music. “Do you want to dance?” 

“Oh, I–” he clears his throat. “I’m actually here with a friend and if he–”

“I’m sure he’s a big boy who can take care of himself,” you interrupt. “Just one dance? Please?” You can sense his hesitation and you bite your lower lip. You know this wasn’t discussed with Jamie, but your advancements were just not working with Daniel. Slowly, you lean in and gently brush your lips against his cheek. “I promise, I don’t bite… unless you like that.”

Daniel glances at you and then over his shoulder to see Jamie with a dark gaze, but he’s smiling encouragingly at the other man. All it takes is for one nod before Daniel downs the drink and stands up. You look up at him, smiling broadly as his hand immediately darts out to rest on your hip. “It would be very rude of me to deny you one dance,” he says softly. 

“Good,” you smile. “I’d hate to dance by myself.” You lead him to the dance floor, playing with his fingers as he follows you closely from behind. Once on the dance floor, you turn to face him and rest your hands on his shoulders. He’s stiff and anxious around you, slowly moving side to side to the beat of the music. “Relax,” you coo, taking his hands and placing them back on your hips. “It’s just one dance.” Then, you turn your back to him and sway your hips expertly to the sound of the song that filters the entire club. 

He bites his lower lip and pulls you flush against his front, his hands gripping your hips as he watches your backside brush against his front repeatedly. 

You reach around him and tangle your hand in his hair, head tilting back to rest on his shoulder as you keep your eyes focused in front of you. Jamie’s staring directly at you, hidden in the shadows as he watches you move against the other man. He can see Daniel progressively gain more and more confidence as his hand moves around to splay against your lower abdomen, lips now brushing against your earlobe. You feign an inaudible gasp, eyes falling shut as you feel the other man become increasingly excited with the way your body moves against his own. 

When the song finally comes to an end, you pull away from him and turn to face him. You reach up to rest your hand on his chest, smiling sweetly in his direction. “Thank you for the dance.”

“Wait, can I get your number?” 

You bite your lower lip and lean in to give a kiss on his cheek once more. “Maybe next time,” you whisper, pulling away from him and turning on your heel to walk towards the bathrooms. 

Jamie follows you closely, taking your hand roughly into his own and pushing you into the bathroom. He locks it behind him, eyes dark with lust as he pushes you against the wall. “I don’t think kissing him on the cheek was part of our plan, baby.”

“It wasn’t… I’m sorry. He just– He wouldn’t dance with me and I figured–”

“It wasn’t part of our plan,” he repeats, hand moving up to tangle itself in your hair. He growls lowly, tugging on it roughly which causes your head to tilt back. “It was already hard enough for me seeing you dance like that with him.” 

“But that’s what you told me to do,” you whimper. 

“Are you talking back?” he whispers, moving closer until his lips brush against the side of your neck.

“N– No, I’m sorry. I just–”

“You just what?” he asks, staring up at you. 

“I’m sorry, Jamie. I’m–”

“Thought I told you to never say my fucking name.” He clicks his tongue and pulls away from you, moving his hands into his pockets as he stares at you from top to bottom. 

You clear your throat and reach out for him, hands moving to his chest. “I’m sorry. I just wanted to do good, make you proud, and–”

“Oh, baby,” he coos, taking one of your hands in his own. “You did do good. You did make me proud.” He takes your other hand and grabs your wrists to pin them above your head, looking into your eyes. “I just don’t like sharing.” 

“I– I’m all yours, I promise.” you bite your lower lip, your own eyes now darkening with lust. “All I could think about while dancing with him was you. I only ever think about you, baby.”

“It’s hard to be angry at you,” he says. “You’re just so sweet on me.”

“And I– I love you,” you add. 

He falters momentarily, clearing his throat as his grip around your wrists loosen just slightly. “Yeah?” he asks.

You nod immediately. “Y– Yes. I’m so in love with you and–”

He interrupts you by pressing his lips firmly against yours, dropping your wrists as his hands now move to your hips. The kiss is messy, urgent, and he wastes no time in sliding his tongue past your lips. He can hear you whimper against his lips and the jealousy he felt earlier is now replaced with a sudden desire to make you completely his. 

“Yeah? How much do you love me, baby?” he mumbles, pulling away from you as he grabs the ends of your dress and begins to lift it higher to bunch around your hips. 

“So much,” you whisper, arms wrapping around his shoulders as you pepper kisses along his jawline. 

“So much that you’d let me put a baby in you, hm? Would you like that?” he uses his free hand to tug down your thong, watching you step out of it once it pools around your ankles.

You bite your lower lip and nod, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. “Yes,” you answer breathlessly. “Yes, baby.” 

“Good,” he smiles, turning you around. He watches you rest your hands on the wall as you bend down just slightly and he groans at the sight of you, pushing his pants and boxers down his ankles as he grabs a hold of his length and slowly runs his leaking tip across the length of your sex. He leans over you, one hand coming up to tangle itself in your hair again. “Gonna fill you up, baby.”

“Please,” you plead, pushing back against him as you feel his tip slide into you. 

“Mm,” he groans, pulling away from you. “Patience, baby. Let’s not forget that I still didn’t like the way you kissed Daniel.” 

“It was just on the cheek,” you whimper. 

He growls and pulls you upright, tightening his grip around your hair. “Your lips should only be for me,” he whispers into your ear, slamming into you abruptly. He groans quietly, hand moving from the base of his cock to rest on your hip. He releases his hold on your hair to bring his hand around your front, gripping your throat lightly. “You should only be for me.”

“I– I’m yours… All yours, baby,” you moan, bringing a hand to reach around for him. His breaths come in short pants near your ear, hand lightly squeezing your throat as his manhood moves in and out of you. He’s desperate to bring you closer to the edge, his desire to fill you up with his come overwhelming his entire body. 

“Gonna make sure everyone knows that you’re mine,” he whispers into your ear, the sounds of your moans echoing off the walls of the small bathroom as his skin slaps against yours repeatedly. “You’re gonna look so beautiful all pregnant with my baby,” he nips at your earlobe, breathing heavily against you. “God, you make me so fucking happy,” he admits. “You have no idea how much you’ve changed my life, baby… how you will change my life. I’m a better man because of you,” he groans, eyes falling shut as he releases his hold on your throat to grip your hips instead. 

“I love you,” you gasp, walls tightening even further around his length. A loud moan escapes your lips as you move your hands to rest over his own, lacing your fingers over his. 

He groans and rests his forehead against the back of your shoulder as his fingertips dig into your hips, driving his own further into your own. He feels the tightness build until he slams into you, painting your walls with his come. He moans quietly, his hips stuttering as he uses your tight heat to get every last drop of his come. “Skip your birth control tomorrow,” he whispers breathlessly. 

You nod, turning your head to gently kiss his cheek. “Anything for you, baby. I really do love you,” you admit quietly. 

“I know,” he nods. “I know.” 

—

Later that week, Jamie gets home with blood splattered on his white dress shirt and knuckles bruised and cut up. You widen your eyes, ushering him into the bathroom as you grab the first aid kit. You feel a sense of dread wash over you, eyes filled with concern at the sight of him.

“Oh my god, what– Are you–” you shake your head, looking up at him. “What happened?” 

“What needed to happen,” he answers. His own eyes are distant as he stares at the wall ahead of him, feeling your hands begin to undo his dress shirt. “He transferred the money,” he grins. “And I had to get rid of a loose end.” 

“Y– You killed him?” you ask quietly, pushing the shirt away from his body. 

He nods and finally turns his gaze to you, staring deeply into your eyes. “He found out who I was,” he answers. “So, I had to do what I had to do.” 

You nod slowly, taking his hand as you begin to clean the cuts along his knuckles. Your mind drifts momentarily, knowing that you’re now forever tied to the man in front of you. You never did have to think about his capability of murdering someone, but here he is… standing in front of you with someone else’s blood on his hands, on his clothes. 

“Does that scare you?” he asks, pulling a hand away from you to hook a finger under your chin. He looks into your eyes, narrows his own as he tries to search for any hesitancy in your gaze. “Does knowing that I can kill someone for my own personal gain scare you?” 

You shake your head, biting the inside of your cheek nervously. “No,” you answer. 

“Don’t lie to me.”

“I’m not lying.”

“Then why does the expression on your face say differently?” 

You sigh and set aside the cotton ball and alcohol. “I’m just surprised, that’s all.”

“Why?” he asks, jaw tightening. “I told you what I am, who I am.”

“I know and I still love you,” you reply. “What you did doesn’t change a thing, but these hands… it’s hard to imagine that they can cause so much pain for someone else when you’re so gentle with me.” 

“Hm,” he answers. “Not always gentle with you.”

“But never with bad intentions,” you quip back. “Listen,” you begin. “I told you that I’m in this with you, whatever it takes and whatever that means.” 

“There’s no going back, you know that, right?” 

“I know,” you sigh quietly and move your hands to rest on his bare chest. “So, what’s the plan?” 

“We go wherever we wanna go, baby,” he answers. “Where do you want to go?” 

“Anywhere,” you smile, gently leaning up on your toes to peck his lips. “As long as I’m with you.”

“You love me that much, huh?” he smiles, hand reaching down to rest on your hip. 

“More than you know.” 

“I’m a lucky man,” he says softly, gently lifting you to sit on the edge of the bathroom sink as he stands between your legs. “We’ve got the entire world at our fingertips.” 

THE AFTERMATH — Six months after Daniel, you and Jamie had decided to go to Italy. You had fallen in love with the country, Jamie buying a small house away from all of the touristy areas. It’s quiet, serene, peaceful. 

You notice that he seems so much more relaxed here. The money he managed to obtain from Daniel and Jonathan providing a comfortable cushion for the both of you. You fall into a comfortable routine with him again – waking up in his arms, falling asleep right next to him. He no longer needs to work and neither do you, so you spend most of your days entangled with one another. 

He still hasn’t told you that he loves you, but through his actions, you know that he does. 

You’re in the kitchen, making lunch when he walks in through the front door. He gazes at you with a small smile, arms crossed over his chest. He walks further into the kitchen and leans against the counter, biting the inside of his cheek. Through everything that he’s been through, he never thought that he’d be here, with someone he was so deeply in love with. He never thought that he'd ever give his heart to anyone; he had always told himself that he was meant to be alone, that the life he wanted to live was never meant to be shared with anyone else.

But you… You had captured his attention from the moment you both met. Even after the first night you shared together, you were all he could ever think about. You were never part of his plan, but now, he can’t ever think about his future without thinking about you. 

When you look up from what you’re doing to see him, a smile instantly lines your lips. You set down the knife and move to wash your hands, feeling him come up from behind as he turns his head to pepper kisses along your neck. 

“Mmm, hello you,” you smile, leaning back against him.

“Hey,” he whispers. “What are you making?” 

“I was craving chicken parm,” you answer, turning around to face him. “You hungry?” 

He nods and cups your cheek lightly, thumb brushing against your soft skin. “Yeah, baby.” 

“Okay, I’ll make enough for the both of us.” 

“Thank you,” he says with a small smile, leaning in to press a soft kiss on your forehead.

“I love you,” you smile to yourself, eyes falling shut when you feel his lips on your forehead. 

He takes a deep breath and wraps his arms around your frame, lips moving to the top of your ear. “I love you too,” he finally admits. 

You feel your heart race even faster, pulling back just enough to look up at him. “Y– You love me too?” 

He nods slowly. “Yeah, baby. I’ve loved you for a long time now.” 

You grin broadly, your teeth pulled between your lips. “I think you just made me the happiest woman alive.” 

“Oh yeah? The five million dollars didn’t do it?” he chuckles. 

“No amount of money would ever make me as happy as hearing those words leave your lips,” you admit. 

“Such a sweet girl,” he smiles. 

“We’ve got the world at our fingertips, right?” you ask.

He grins and moves his hands to rest on the edge of the sink as he brushes the tip of his nose against your own. “This world is ours,” he nods. 

“And our little girl’s,” you add, moving one hand to rest on your baby bump.

He smiles to himself and shuts his eyes, face burying against the side of your neck as he moves his own hand to rest over your own. He had always thought money would be the reason for his happiness, for his contentment, but now that he has you in his life with his child on the way, he couldn’t imagine living his life the way he used to. 

“Everything I do from now on will be for you,” he whispers, feeling a kick against his palm. “And for her.” 

---

npt: @ovaryacted - @yxtkiwiyxt - @princessanglophile - @gelibean522 - @angeiulst

[maddie0101]

Jealousy and Baby’s backseat

Summary: y/n has had enough of Dean flirting with other women. (Even though he is only her best friend)..so she takes matters into her own hands and makes a decision that will ultimately alter her and Dean’s relationship forever.

Warnings: smut (mdni), jealous!dean, jealous!reader, p in v, dirty talk, v fingering, semi-public sex, angry!dean, fluff, slight choking, sex in the back of baby (hehe), only my 4th time writing smut so I’m sorry if it’s bad. Also, not proof read so lmk if you see something wacky :b (Also my first ever dean fic! yay! Hopefully many more to come)

Word count: 3.6k

You were so done.

Being hopelessly in love with Dean and having to watch him flirt with other women everyday was starting to become exhausting. So as you sat there in one of the bar’s booths with Sam, you had come to the conclusion that you were done.

“Y/n?” Sam called out your name, snapping you out of your anger filled daydream. “You okay?”

“Yeah, uh I just gotta take care of something..” You quickly got up from the booth and spotted the guy from earlier that had been flirting with you. At first you gave him hardly any attention because all your attention was solely set on Dean but as the bright idea popped into your head, you decided it was his lucky day.

Dean’s pov

The chick in-front of Dean was starting to bore him if he was being honest. She was hot, don’t get him wrong but she wasn’t the woman that plagued Dean’s mind 24/7. If he was being honest with himself, Dean wanted y/n more than anything in the world but the fear of rejection and their relationship shifting into anything else but romantic stopped him in his tracks. In his mind, y/n deserved so much better than him. Who would want to deal with all the baggage he came with?

“So do you wanna get out of here?” The blonde woman in-front of Dean purred, raising her hand up to tug on the collar of his flannel.

Dean nervously laughed, before his eyes drifted back over to the booth y/n and Sam were sitting at, noticing y/n pushing herself up from the booth. Y/n’s determined and angry orbs locked onto Dean’s for a split second before she confidently strode over to some guy at the bar. Noticing it was the guy that had been flirting with y/n earlier on in the night, Dean’s curiosity turned into something else as he watched his best friend stomp up to the man.

His brows furrowed as he watched y/n tap on the man’s shoulder, but as the guy quickly spun around not able to even get a single word out of his mouth, y/n yanked the guy by the shirt and smashed her lips onto his.

Complete shock and anger quickly surged through Dean’s frame. A pit of poison bubbled in the eldest Winchester’s stomach as he watched the scene before him. He was truly at loss for words. Y/n hardly ever took anyone home, more or less made out with a stranger in a bar.

Y/n’s pov

He tasted like cigarettes and cheap tequila. Two things y/n hated.

But hey, at least he was a good kisser. You sighed into the kiss as the guy whose name you forgot deepened the kiss and tugged you a little closer to him. He wasn’t Dean but he would do the trick for the night.

After a second or two ‘Levi’? you think his name is pauses, causing the two of you to break apart. “See you finally came around..” Levi shot you a smirk, making your stomach twist for some odd reason. “Wanna get out of here?” He asked, causing a you to give him a small nod.

Levi was the one to make the move next, grabbing you by the back of your neck and smashing his lips onto yours.

Before the kiss could get too heated again, a large hand roughly yanked you away, causing you to let out a surprised yelp in response.

“It’s time to go.” Dean’s tone sent shivers down your spine. He looked absolutely livid.

Cocking your head to the side you ripped your arm out of his grasp and shot Dean a smirk. “No it okay…” you played innocent. “Me and…Levi here are about to leave. Don’t count on me come back to the motel till tomorrow.” You shot Dean a wink before ‘Levi’ broke the thick tension.

“It’s actually Liam…” The guy corrected, making your mouth form into a O before you turned back to look at Dean. “Liam and I are leaving..see you later Dean!” You snickered as you grabbed Liam by the bicep and led him out of the bar, leaving a very angry Dean behind.

Truthfully, you didn’t know why Dean was so pissed. He had that woman he was talking to the whole night, so what crawled up his ass? He obviously was going to be taking her home and wouldn’t show up until the next morning. Talking to Sam about if she was good in bed or not in the Impala always pissed you off. It was like he was trying to get a rise out of you. Every time he would go on about his sexcapades you’d always quickly reach for your bag and pop your earbuds in, blasting music to drown out the information Dean was spilling.

It hurt more than anything to watch Dean come back to the motel the next morning looking all disheveled. He’d always have hickeys littering his neck and maybe a few lipstick stains here and there. You wanted nothing more than to be the cause of those marks on his skin but he would only ever see you as his best friend…

Which now leads to why you were on the outside of the bar, caged in between Liam’s arms, pinned against the brick wall of the bar, making out with a guy you barely knew. Just as the kiss started heating up again, Liam yelped as someone grabbed the back of his jacket and threw him onto the hard ground a few feet away.

Shock initially spread across your face as you ripped your gaze away from Liam to the culprit, a very angry looking Dean. The sight before you sent a chill down your spine as you noted the vein that always popped out of Dean’s forehead prominent, indicating he was absolutely livid. Large calloused hands were in fists by his sides and the look on Dean’s face caused y/n to shift a little under his gaze.

“What the hell Dean?” Y/n angrily shouted at her best friend. “What is your fucking problem?” Y/n stepped forward and shoved Dean’s chest but it was like pushing a brick wall, he didn’t move an inch.

Dean stayed dead silent before gripping y/n’s upper arm tightly and dragging her with him. Y/n’s feet tried to gain traction to stop Dean from dragging her away from her fun for the night but to no avail. Finally reaching the impala parked on the opposite side of the parking lot, y/n groaned as she knew Dean was taking her back to the motel and ruining her fun.

Letting go of her arm to open the passenger side door for her, Dean ushered her in but y/n stood off to the side with her arms crossed over her chest, angry.

“Get in.” Dean nodded towards the impala, still fuming.

“No.” Y/n keep her chin up

“Y/n get in the damn car before I lose my shit.” Dean grit his teeth, bringing his hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose in frustration.

“Where’s Sammy?”

“He got another ride home.” Dean answered flatly, “now get in.”

Dumbfounded, y/n’s jaw fell open. “You have got to be kidding me!” The girl’s hand flew up, “Sam even gets to have fun tonight but I don’t? Seriously, Dean?”

“We’ll talk about this later y/n.” Dean pressed his lips together, nodding towards the car again. “Get in.”

Realizing you weren’t going to win this one, you let out an exasperated sigh before sliding past Dean and plopping down into the passenger seat. Dean closed the door behind you and once again pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. After calming himself down a bit, Dean finally rounded baby and hopped into the driver’s seat, ignoring y/n’s piercing gaze burning a hole through his head.

Pulling out of the parking lot with his grip on the steering wheel tight, Dean sighed before finally glancing over to y/n.

“I am your best friend, Dean. Not your freaking little sister. I am so tired of you and Sam being able to go home with whoever you want, whenever you want. I have needs too you know? What… you get to get your dick wet every freaking week but I can’t get some dick once in a freaking blue moon?!” Y/n’s face turned red as she ranted, “It’s exhausting honestly. You’re such a—“Y/n quickly stopped mid sentence as Dean roughly pulled baby over to the side of the road, making the tires squeal from the sudden motion.

Y/n quietly gasped as Dean quickly got out of the car and walked around to her side. Noting the lack of any structures or anything around them y/n’s heart skipped a beat as she realized they were in the middle of no where.

Yanking the door to her side open, Dean nodded for y/n to get out of the car. “Out.”

“Wha..Dean were in the middle of no where!” Y/n tried as she pushed herself out of the vehicle only to be pinned to the side of the impala as soon as she stepped out.

“De-“

“You really think I think of you as my little sister?” Dean’s tone dropped, causing y/n to swallow a thick lump in her throat as dark green eyes stared back at her with something she couldn’t quite grasp. Her heart sunk a little at Dean’s words, y/n’s mind reeled as she thought he meant he didn’t care about her as much as she thought he did. What else could he be saying? He couldn’t think of her like she thought of him, right?

“I guess I—no?” Y/n had absolutely no clue what to say, completely lost.

“Do you wanna know why I’m always with someone?” Dean’s questions, his eyebrow raising. “Hmm?”

Y/n takes in a shaky breath as she glances up from Dean’s eyes to his pink lips held between his teeth, not realizing Dean had caught her staring. Leaning in a little closer and making y/n’s gaze snap back up to his dark gaze, Dean whispers “it’s cause I’m trying to get you out of my head. You’re every thought that goes through my mind, y/n. I can’t even wake up without you being the first thought in my head and the last when I fall asleep. But I know you’re off limits..” y/n watches as Dean’s gaze falls to her lips, noticing the way his once green eyes are almost black.

Swallowing another lump in her throat as her own eyes softened at Dean looking at her in a way she’d never seen before and only imagined in her dreams, y/n’s voice came out shaky. “Why am I off limits?”

Dean sighed before licking his bottom lip, “because you’re my best friend and you deserve better than me.” His voice softened as he spoke the last few words.

“Dean….” Y/n softly shook her head, “what are you talking about? I don’t deserve you? Are you even listening to yourself? You are the most kind hearted, brave, funny, charming, and most lovable person I know.” Y/n’a gaze reconnected with Dean’s soft but dark gaze, just now realizing exactly what that look meant. “It’s why I fell in love with you.” Y/n whispered, praying she hadn’t just ruined everything between them.

Dean froze at y/n’s words, never in his life had he expected to hear that come out of her mouth. “You love me?” Dean’s voice sounded scratchy and low, causing panic to rise through y/n’s chest.

Knowing this could either be the end of their relationship or beginning of something new and beautiful y/n lifted her head. “I love you, Dean. Look I get if you don’t feel the sam-“ y/n’s suddenly interrupted by Dean’s lips on hers.

Completely caught off guard, y/n’s frozen for a second before she melts into the kiss. Electricity shoots through their bodies as the kiss starts out slow and sensual. Dean’s hands find their way to the base of y/n’s throat to pull her closer, earning a soft moan to escape from her lips. A groan of satisfaction vibrates Dean’s chest at the noise he caused her to make. Breaking away from the kiss Dean cups both sides of y/n’s face and smiles softly before whispering “I love you too.”

Upon hearing Dean’s confession, y/n’s heart swells as a fire starts in her chest, lighting something deep within her she never knew existed. Before either one of them could say another word, y/n quickly sprang forward and closed the small gap between the two, smashing her lips roughly onto Dean’s. The girl’s arms snaked up his chest to wrap around his neck, ultimately pulling him closer towards her as Dean tightly grasped y/n’s hips bringing her closer towards him so he could slide his knee in between her legs.

Y/n’s fingers thread through Dean’s short hair as heat pools within her core. Each kiss shared between the two becomes more and more desperate and hungry as their lips smack together. Dean’s tongue darts out and slides along y/n’s bottom lip asking for entry, granting him access y/n sighs as Dean finds his way through her mouth. Another moan escapes from y/n’s mouth as Dean puts more pressure on her core with his knee, letting her rock her hips on him.

Knowing this is going exactly where he is thinking Dean quickly breaks away from y/n’s lips, not missing the way she almost pouted and whined at the loss. Yanking the back passenger side door open, Dean grabs y/n by her waist and pulls her to the back of the impala. Watching as she crawls backwards to lay down Dean quickly sheds his tshirt and jacket before closing the door behind him.

Immediately dipping to plant sloppy kisses to y/n’s neck Dean groans as y/n palms the bulge in his jeans. “God I’ve wanted this for so long. I’ve only dreamed about the sounds you can make and the way you taste.”

Y/n sighed into the kiss as Dean reconnected his lips onto hers. “Dean I need you.” Y/n whines, between breaths.

“Sorry sweetheart but we’re takin this time slow.” Dean managed to get out in between kisses, bringing his hand down to the hem of y/n’s shirt and pulling it over her head. “I want to kiss every inch of your body, taste how sweet you are, and then watch you come again on my dick.”

As soon as Dean’s eyes met the sight of her breasts plump and deliciously pushed up by the way her bra was holding her, Dean could only imagine how perfect they looked without the bra and urgently needed to get his hands on them.

Just the way Dean was talking dirty to her sent butterflies tickling the insides of y/n’s stomach. She knew Dean was a flirt and figured he’d be sexy in bed but never thought he had such a dirty mouth. But two can play that game and y/n could make him beg for her instead.

“Maybe you should use that dirty little mouth of yours to-“ Dean quickly stopped y/n with his lips, taking the time she’s distracted to reach one hand behind her back and unclasp her bra in one swift motion. Shock quickly flashed through y/n’s eyes before Dean ripped the bra off. As if his eyes couldn’t possibly darken, Dean’s emerald green eyes shifted to black. His pupils completely overwhelming the color y/n so dearly loves.

Dean instantly groans at the sight of y/n’s breasts, immediately connecting his lips to a nipple as his large hands start to knead through the plush and soft skin. “Oh sweetheart….” Dean pauses between licking and sucking, “I really didn’t think you’d be even more beautiful than you already are. God you are so gorgeous. S’all mine.”

“All yours, D.” Y/n moaned as Dean had somehow slipped a hand into her jeans and started rubbing circles over the sensitive bundle of nerves. Usually she wasn’t this sensitive or turned on. Absolutely nobody had the same effect of her as Dean. Y/n has to bite down on her lip to hold back the moans of pleasure but Dean notices. “Don’t hold back baby, I wanna hear you.”

Pulling her panties to the side, Dean slips a digit into her slick and wet core, eliciting a loud moan to escape from y/n’s throat. Truly, she had no idea she could even make such pornographic noises before this. Rocking her hips down on his hand as Dean kisses his way back up to her lips, y/n whines as he slowly slips another finger into her core, loving nothing more than the feeling of Dean’s fingers hitting her G-spot.

Grinning at the sounds she is making and almost coming apart from underneath him, Dean’s raspy voice speaks up again. “Come for me on my fingers and then I want you to come around my cock.” He quickly reconnects their lips just as y/n feels that burning sensation growing inside her core, focusing on the way his fingers glide in and out of her pussy so roughly.

“De-aan.” Is all y/n manages to get out before completely coming undone underneath the man she loves. Y/n’s stomach coils as her stomach tightens, moaning Dean’s name over and over as he rides her through her high.

“God you’re even more beautiful coming around my fingers baby.” Dean whispers in her ear as she slowly comes down from her high.

Slowly as y/n came back to the present, she quickly fiddles with Dean’s belt attempting to take it off. “Hurry up Dean I need you now.” Y/n says, causing Dean to laugh a bit as he helps her get his jeans off. Leaving him in just his boxers, y/n slowly slips her hand into the tight fabric and grabs him, slowly and softly stoking him. “I want you to come inside me D, I don’t want you to hold back. I’m on the pill so we’re okay.”

Dean only nods before ripping his boxers off, letting his dick spring free. Y/n’s eyes widen at the size of him, wanting nothing more than him inside her watering mouth. Slowly leaning down to tease him, y/n licks a stripe up his shaft all while keeping her eyes locked on his.

“Oh yeah. I’m marrying you.” Dean cocks his head to the side before pushing y/n back to lay down and ripping her jeans and panties off so she is completely bare along with him. “You’re all mine baby.” Dean lines himself up with y/n’s entrance before slowly pushing himself inside. “God you’re so wet and s’tight for me.” Dean groans as he bottoms out, finally connecting his gaze to y/n who is biting her bottom lip to keep from crying out.

Y/n’s eyes quickly roll into the back of her head as Dean pulls out and slams back into her again, eliciting a loud moan. “Yes!” Y/n moans, “more Dean, give it to me.”

Dean quickly sets the pace and slams in and out of y/n whist she screams his name. Dean curses in between thrusts and groans each time y/n’s hips roll up to meet his. “I’m not going to last much longer.” Dean admits

“Me either.” Y/n manages to get out between moans, “come with me.”

A growl rumbles through Dean’s chest, loving the way her mouth is so dirty for only him, “Such a good girl, y/n. Now come all my cock while I fill you up.”

Just as Dean’s words filled y/n’s ear a loud moan ripped through the impala as y/n came hard, repeating his name over and over again like a prayer. The feeling of her pulsing around him sends Dean to fall out of rhythm as he sloppily snaps his hips against hers. His face buries into her neck as he feels himself unravel inside of her, the feeling of warm liquid filling her insides as the two turn into a moaning mess, painting her inner walls white.

Sweat rolls down both of the hunter’s foreheads as they lay there for a second, catching their breath.

“Holy shit.” Y/n laid beneath a panting Dean, still attempting to catch his breath.

“Didn’t take you for the dirty type..” Dean finally admits, absolutely loving it. “But I love you and that dirty little mouth of yours.”

Y/n laughed a bit before connecting her gaze to Dean’s. “Trust me that was very mild of me. Just wait. I didnt want to scare you.”

“I’m here for it sweetheart. Don’t worry. Next time don’t hold anything back.”

“Oh I won’t.” Y/n softly smiled before cupping the sides of Dean’s face to bring him into a loving kiss. “I love you.”

“I love you too, baby.” Dean whispers, a grin plastered over his face before he looks down between the both of them. “Wanna go another round?” He asks, cocking his head to the side.

“Hell yeah I do. Get over here Winchester.” Y/n giggles as Dean leans down to smash his lips onto hers, still not over the feeling. Truthfully, he doesn’t think he will ever get used to the feeling of her soft and plump lips on his but at least she’s his now.

Author’s note: hi guys! I really hope you enjoyed his little fic I wrote! I do apologize if the smut isn’t up to par but I’m slowly learning how to write it. I hope if you did like the fic you’ll send some love my way. I should be writing more Dean fics here in the future but for now I hope this fic is decent!

(I wrote this within 5 hrs and have not read back over it bc I’ve been too excited to post) I will maybe later, don’t know..🤷🏽‍♀️

xx maddie

[maximoffwitch]

wait that’s so creative with the spotify wrapped thing

dunno if i’m first but i’ll choose my lucky number 5 and jennifer jareau x reader as the pairing

praying it’s something fluffy but i’ll read anything

Guilty as Sin

pairing: jennifer jareau x reader

warnings: a small bit of smut (hinting at oral sex and praise kink), 18+!

summary: you can’t help it when your mind wanders to your night with jj, her touch haunting you so stunningly.

word count: 615

a/n: send me a number 1-100 and i’ll write a fic/drabble! this was totally inspired by this shot of jj sitting on emily’s desk…bc look at her!! i hope this is fluffy enough for you :))

#5 on my spotify wrapped was guilty as sin by taylor swift

You couldn’t stop staring.

And who could blame you, when JJ was perched on Emily’s desk, wearing a black skirt, one shorter than usual that hit just above her knees, exposing her toned legs.

You let your eyes subtly trace JJ’s figure as she chatted with Emily and Derek about something you honestly couldn’t care less about. How could you when JJ was sitting there looking like that so effortlessly.

As you admired the blonde’s golden skin and sparkling blue eyes, you couldn’t stop your thoughts from wandering.

JJ’s touch burned your skin, her fingertips leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake, as she trailed them up your leg.

When she reached your lace panties, she looked up at you, her eyes dark. “Can I?”

Too far gone to form any words, you simply nodded and let out a whimper.

JJ torturously dragged your underwear down your legs, flinging them over her shoulder, not caring where they went, her only concern being on what was right in front of her: you.

As she kissed a path up your legs, JJ mumbled into your skin, “So fucking gorgeous.”

You squirmed under her touch, silently begging for her to touch you where you needed her, to relieve your ache. When JJ bit the inside of your thigh, you couldn’t help the moan that escaped your lips.

“Mine.” She smirked into your skin, playfully nipping your flesh again.

“JJ,” you panted, grabbing the sheets tightly, unable to hide your desperation anymore. “Please.”

JJ chuckled lowly, clearly enjoying your pleading. “Please what?”

Looking down at her, you met her intense gaze. “Please fuck me, Jayje.”

“Since you asked so nicely,” she hummed contently, before pressing a gentle kiss to your throbbing core.

“Such a good girl for me, (Y/N).”

“(Y/N)!” JJ’s voice interrupted your daydream.

“What?” You startled, snapping your head up from her legs. Noticing three pairs of eyes on you, your cheeks flushed.

“Distracted there, (Y/L/N)?” Emily teased.

“Oh, bite me, Prentiss,” you mumbled as you reopened the file you had been working on.

“Don’t you have JJ for that?” She wiggled her eyebrows, laughing at the flush creeping up your neck.

JJ chuckled lightly, pushing herself off Emily’s desk before taking a few steps over to you. “You’ll always have me,” she said and kissed your temple.

You bit back a grin, ignoring the teasing remarks coming from Emily and Derek. As Hotch announced a new case and everyone started heading towards the round table room, JJ offered you her hand, which you gladly accepted as you stood up.

But before you could go anywhere, JJ pulled you closer to her, her lips brushing your ear. “Don’t look so innocent,” she murmured, her voice lowered. “I know your thoughts are guilty.”

JJ punctuated her words with a kiss to you neck, one totally not appropriate for work but hidden by your hair. Feeling a shiver creep up your spine, you straightened your back, a mischievous glint sparkling in your eye. For some reason, you were feeling bold today. You knew she’d make you pay for it later, but you didn’t care.

“Someone told me,” you leaned forward, your lips ghosting hers, “there’s no such thing as bad thoughts. Only actions talk.”

You kissed the corner of her mouth before slipping out of her grasp.

As you caught up to Emily and Derek, you looked back over your shoulder at JJ, who still stood by your desk, her lips slightly parted. Feeling your eyes on her, JJ looked back at you, her icy blue eyes sharp, giving you a stare that you swore would be the death of you.

But, oh what a way to die.

[anotheroceanid]

Perse having a secret crush on Apollo is such a funny thought for me. I mean, he's been historically down bad for her for all of history, but she probably thinks it's mortals misunderstanding things and the gods making fun of her so she never tried to make a move because how embarrassing would it be to get rejected at this point? Anyway, Perse is just a girl fr

Perse reading all the Perpollo fics out there daydreaming they’re true and Apollo being the one to write them.

Perse, commenting: omg this characterisation is so good

Apollo, who posted anonymously: thank you, the inspiration goes hard with me lol

[n1-lance-defender]

How has the dehumanization of celebrities/athletes has affected the perception people have of Lance, and it has caused so much harm over the years. A rant/ threat/analysis.

Yes, I have seen so many (3) of these post over the last few days, and I think it is my turn to speak about my views regarding Lance and what I find most upsetting about his situation. Then I proceeded to wander and explain how it also connects to other drivers, and it’s one of the weird phenomenons of the digital era.

Btw I care a lot about this topic, but this is probably (aside from school) the most I have written in English, because this is my second language. So if something doesn't make much sense, just tell me so I can correct/improve the explanation.

During the last decade we have seen the rise of social media, and with it, the fanaticism of sports started showing characteristics we associate with fandoms and literacy. For example, even thought it doesn't seem that way, fan fiction has existed for at least 50 years, being more notorious with the Spock x James (Star Trek) whose fan fiction goes back till 1966. On the other hand, the oldest fanfic we have evidence of, in F1, was written in November 2009, almost 2010. This has made, over the last decade, the perception we have of drivers shift to a more personal matter and increase the importance of having an attractive internet image.

I do not condemn RPF, I enjoy reading about it and probably, like most of us, won't stop doing it. However, I think it is beneficial to talk about similar behavior has had an impact over mainstream media and social media (influencers in particular) and it has been the cause of irrational hatred us, lance supporters, are so used to seeing.

I used to believe it was extremely weird how in random TikToks or YouTube analysis there were being made jokes of lance. Some that stood out to me were “then we have the C4 tires that, except for Stroll's car, will make them go faster” or “we are about to see 19 drivers and Stroll race in the great circuit of X”. Before and after these comments were made, I was just watching videos on tire degradation and race lines of a circuit analysis, respectively. It didn't add anything to the video, it wasn't even a video that was made to be funny. That is when I started thinking about it, and realized, mainstream media has done the same as us, they have turned him into a character.

Brief statement. Every one makes “characters” out from people. We have wide imaginations in which we think how others will behave with some evidence we have, not just in social media. We daydream for example about our crushes and things we think they will say, we idolize them in our heads. The same thing happens here in social media, we decide which driver is which fruit, animal, or teddy bear. Because we do it positively, there are no impacts, and it is more than likely that this information will never reach the driver himself. However, means of communication whom do have access to them are also doing this, but not with the right intentions.

There are stereotypical characters in movies/series, we have all see that at some point. Most times we agree that their writing is put in a way that makes them very one dimensional and not relatable at all. Sometimes they write characters whose only purpose in the series will be to act as comic relief, so then the scene doesn't feel heavy or boring. They become the internal joke of the show.

That is what it is happening to Lance, his internet image has being corrupted enough, so then people have no problem using him as a comic relief, because they are so convinced that is what his “character” was written for, to ease up tension. It seems like it has been normalized making fun of him to a point where it is expected you are into the ���joke”, and there is absolutely no shame in making fun of him while talking about f1.

He is not a character. He does not fall into a common stereotype made by poor written movies. Because he is an actual person, with layers and self-awareness of the things said about him. The fact that this is how we treat people is terrible and extremely harmful, cause 90% of F1 fans do not have the time or care about little things that happen to them or mind their personality to deeper levels. They take the first input they get from social media, use that to make an opinion and move on with the other important thing in their live.

Example of this, my dad. He loves F1, he is the one that made me love it as much as I do. He has his F1tv subscriptions and talks with me about it all the time, watches all practices, qualys and races. He wants to take me some day to see a race, there is no denying he is an F1 fan. But that man does not have Instagram, does not have TikTok. I have tried to explain to him what an edit is multiple times and still he doesn't get it, so I won't even try to explain what are fan works. So when I told him “OMG MAX IS HAVING A BABY” his reaction was “oh, with his current girlfriend? cool” that man pretended some interest because I was excited. He couldn't care less about the personal life of anyone.

So then the image he has of the drivers is the little description over the Facebook posts of sky sports and danz. So when that description only reflects a character they themselves created, that is what gets in the mind of their readers. That is what their personality is to the rest of the world. That is why now more than ever, drivers care so much about their perception. There isn't enough time to get to know them, so it is usually that headline they get what makes the opinion of the public over them.

Lando is seem as childish. Charles is seem as pretty. Yuki is seem as angry. Franco is seem as flirty. George is seem as girly. Lance is seem as useless. Try asking someone older, their opinion over these drivers, and they will say something between these stereotypes. We could debate it is better or worst to not get one of these labels, because the problem of always flying under the radar (which is now almost impossible) is that nobody is sad when they leave, there is no recognition, goodbye, appreciation, or thank you, which to me, it is beyond sad.

We have gotten into a point where media training and curating social media is part of the rookies' preparation, being popular has become a requirement to be a successful f1 driver. I am just left to wander, what is the best approached we can take about it? We can't stop the dehumanization of drivers and then let them put them into stereotypes. That is just a sad truth and problematic of the internet. So I guess what we have left is to defend, create narratives against the hatred they receive and hope eventually media will become more empathic and joke around just because they can.

Who knows, people are becoming more critical of stereotypical characters and are less willing to believe one dimension personalities. Hopefully with new generation this marketing strategy will become useless and media portrayed would change.

[thislovintime]

“So many of you are writing letters saying, 'I’m in love with a star. What’ll I do?' Or, 'I love Peter. Please help me!' So, I decided the best person to go to for help would be Peter himself, because, besides getting so many of these letters, he always seems to have a straight-from-the-heart, well-thought-out answer to any problem. In Peter’s Monkee set dressing-room I settled comfortably on the green rug. Peter sat cross-legged on the couch. First of all, I took out one of the many 'Help!' letters and showed it to him. After he read it I asked him just how he felt about being loved like this. He looked at me with his wise, deep but now almost bewildered, eyes and said simply, ‘I think it’s unreal. I don’t believe it.’ From that short, direct answer I thought perhaps that this problem had puzzled him or he just didn’t want to answer it. But Peter dismiss an important problem? Never! He started talking right to all his fans then, through me — and I could tell that this was a problem he’d worried about and considered often — maybe even stayed awake nights looking for an answer. After all, it directly concerns him and all the girls everywhere that he gives happiness to hour after hour, day after day! ‘I think some girls are pretending to feel love for me which is really not love, even though they don’t realize it. They direct their feelings and daydreams toward the image of me they see on the screen or in the magazines. […] ‘[T]hey look at this picture of me which has all the faults removed from it. ‘For instance, you’d never know if I had complexion trouble because it would all be under makeup. You’d never know if I were mean or angry unless you just happened to be in the way of one of my temper tantrums, which sometimes happens to fans. I sometimes lose my temper, like anyone, and if you happen to be in the way of it at the time, you might think, “Oh, what have I done?” You’ve done nothing, I was just being human. […] ‘I’d much rather you just think of me as the kid on the corner who made good. The guy who happens to enjoy being an entertainer, standing on the stage and performing, and who got himself into a little more than he bargained for when the Monkees became famous. […] ‘I’ve grown not to believe in tragedy. I’ve grown to believe that all things work out for the best. Even if you’re in despair, you’re going to discover that there’s more will to live in you than all your despair and you’ll come out of it. The will to live is a will to be cheerful, and to be on top of things. Stay cheerful! ‘In other words, if you really love me, you will look for these constructive ways to help. You’ll step in and help some poor underdog or smile at an unpopular kid. You will help somebody with his homework when he’s failing. These things are really acts of love. For every ounce of energy you think you feel in love towards me, practice generating your own love where it seems not to be wanted, even where you think it won’t be accepted. That’s what’s called Christian love. And it’s better than trying to show your love for me by just helping my career. If you want to buy all my records, that’s cool, because I’m trying to do some nice stuff on the records. But helping my career is not a full-time occupation for anybody. ‘I believe that all is One, that there is only one everything and we call it God, so God is everything.’ With that last, brief, statement, Peter stood up and stretched. It was that time again. He had to go out to the cameras and get back to work with Micky, David and Mike. But he had answered the question so often asked: ‘Please help me… what’ll I do?’ And the more I thought about this last statement, ‘All is One,’ the more I understood what he meant by it. Peter feels that all life is One and that One is Love. Therefore, when you are loving the person near you, you are showing your love for Peter right where you are. You are loving Peter in the very best way possible!” - article by Audrey Hulse, Fave, April 1968

[atleastpleasetelephone]

Gentle on My Mind - Chapter 8

Initially set in 1967 when Elvis is filming Clambake. Feeling miserable and trapped after the Colonel banishes Larry and the spiritual texts, Elvis invites Gloria to keep him company through the last five days of filming. Gloria is an aspiring movie editor and more importantly she's a lot of fun. Will she be what Elvis needs to get him out of the depressive funk he's in?

Catch up with the other parts here.

Many thanks to @sissylittlefeather being my beta reader on this one.

A/N: Just to say there's some fairly dark stuff in this chapter, so please do have a look at the warnings before you read.

Pairing: Elvis x OC - Gloria, a budding film editor.

Word count: 4.3K

TWs: Infidelity, vomiting, graphic descriptions of childbirth, sexual assault (Elvis is not involved), descriptions of an abusive/coercive partner (again, not Elvis), fainting, crying, teasing, oral (m and f receiving), face fucking, size kink, edging, panty sniffing!Elvis.

Elvis knows she’s gone for good as soon as he wakes up and sees the empty bed beside him. He almost feels like he dreamt the whole thing, but as he looks around the room he sees the evidence that he didn’t. The burn on the carpet, a streak of make-up on the mirror, the polaroids on his bedside table. He picks them up and looks through them, staring at the lipstick marks she left and her lazily scrawled message. 

If she loves me, why did she leave?

He starts to cry, big, heaving sobs. His Glory. Gone to get married. 

***

As she says her vows, Gloria feels like she’s outside of her body, watching someone else do it. She keeps telling herself that this is the only thing she could’ve done, the right thing, but it doesn’t feel like it. She watches the Gloria who’s getting married smiling as Roger pushes the ring onto her finger. Watches everyone looking at her, her friends and family, her daddy beaming proudly. She desperately tries to get back into her own body as Roger kisses her, tries to be present in that moment, but her mind still wanders back to him. It’s only been a week since she lay in Elvis’ bed and told him she loved him. It’s not long enough to get him out of her mind. 

***

Roger tells her to throw away her birth control that night, and she does it gladly. She can’t wait to be a mama. Roger makes love to her slowly and passionately, and she finally finds herself almost back in her own body again. They go on their honeymoon the next day. He’d initially tried to suggest Hawaii, but she almost flinched at the word. Instead they fly to Cabo and spend the week on the beach there. Lazy living, cooking and eating outdoors, sex twice a day, cocktails whenever they want. She’s happy, for hours at a time. And then something reminds her of Elvis, and she feels a twinge of sadness. That will pass though, it has to. It’s not as if she’ll see him again now. And she has so much else to look forward to. 

***

The house they move into together is still in ‘Frisco, but a part of the city where she knows no-one else. Her friends are a long and frustrating car ride away, her family too. She walks around the big, empty house and plans the furniture she’ll buy. Wandering into one of the other bedrooms, she holds her belly as she daydreams about the nursery she’ll design for her baby. Not that she’s showing yet, and it’s too early to tell anyone, but she knows. 

In those first few weeks in the house she doesn’t even get the polaroids out. They’re hidden in a book, and she almost forgets about them. Her baby is growing inside her and she’s busy planning and buying, painting and instructing delivery men. Roger comes home every day to a home-cooked meal and he kisses her on the temple and calls her baby. They have sex a couple of times a week, and she tells herself she doesn’t need any more. Soon she’ll be a mama anyway. Sex isn’t that important now. 

***

10 May 1969

Glory!

On vacation in Hawaii and I had to send you a postcard. Congratulations on your wedding, I hope you and Roger are very happy. The sun is shining here and we’ve spent a lot of time on the beach. Yisa loves it here! Maybe tonight I’ll try and cook something on the BBQ. 

Love

Your big boy xx

***

Gloria nearly faints when she sees the postcard. Her legs feel weak and she thinks she might be sick. She sits down on the floor and reads it over and over again. How could he do this? Send her this? When he knows she lives here with Roger? How does he even have her address? Her stomach rolls again and she runs to the bathroom to throw up. 

***

“I DON’T WANT TO PUSH!” 

Gloria feels outside of her own body again, watching the woman on the hospital bed, sweating and bloody and screaming that she doesn’t want this anymore. The doctor tries to talk her down, tells her that it won’t be much longer even though she’s sure that’s a damn lie. Roger left ages ago, he can’t stand the sight of blood and she’d already cussed him out and tried to punch him. Eventually they give her some insane cocktail of drugs that help her give birth but do nothing for the pain. They give her stitches for the tear and hand her a crying, wrinkled newborn. She holds him and cries, not sure whether they’re tears of sadness or joy or both. She’s not in a hurry to do that again. She names him Corey.

***

11 October 1969

Glory,

I’m in Hawaii again and thinking of you. My first shows in Vegas were back in July and August. I wonder if you saw anything in the papers about them. I wonder if you think of me at all. I hope we see each other again some time. I’ll leave tickets on the door for you when I play Frisco. I don’t know when, but I hope to soon. 

Your big boy xx

***

Gloria is in too much of a daze to be upset when she finds the postcard. It’s lucky that she scooped up the mail first, lucky Roger didn’t see it. She hides it with the other one, and the polaroids. Staggers to bed and lies down, hoping to get some sleep before Corey wakes up again. 

She lies in bed that night, waiting for Roger to finish brushing his teeth. He gets in next to her and pulls her close to him, immediately starting to kiss her neck. She grumbles. 

“C’mon, baby.”

He pushes her nightie up and starts to pull her panties down. She stares at him in disbelief. She’s so tired. 

“Roger… I’m still not ready…”

He shakes his head, pulling his pyjama bottoms down and starting to stroke himself. 

“It’s been such a long time, baby.”

She tries to wriggle away from him. He hadn’t wanted sex for a long time. Ever since she’d started to show, in fact. She tried to initiate, but he just rolled away. Even though she’s had her stitches out now and the doctor gave her the okay to have sex again, she feels like she never wants anything else near her vagina. All she can think of is the pain and the tear and it all still seems too raw. 

“Roger, no.”

He leans on top of her, pushing her legs open roughly and starting to push his dick inside. She whines. 

“You’re my wife,” he tells her, firmly. “And I want you now. Be quiet.”

She cries silently as he rapes her. She doesn’t think of it as rape at the time, doesn’t think that’s even possible when you’re married. But later on she realises it for what it is. She said no and he carried on regardless. 

***

The months pass by slowly, the house is finished and Gloria has nothing to do in the days apart from taking care of Corey. There’s not even any housework to do since Roger hired the maid. Gloria thinks she’s too pretty to be a maid really, but the house is always spotless. She fell pregnant again not long after she gave birth, and it’s not long now until she’ll be in the hospital again. As soon as she found out she started to look for news of Elvis in the papers. Left Corey with the nanny and took herself to the movie theatre to see Change Of Habit. She looks at the polaroids every day, and sometimes sits in the bed she shares with Roger and touches herself, looking at them and thinking of Elvis. She re-reads the postcards too. Missing him more than she imagined she could. 

Her second birth is a lot easier, and this time it’s a girl. She names her Jacqueline, Jackie for short. She knows that Roger will want another child so she calls her sister and asks for help. Her sister’s husband goes with her to the doctor to help her get back on birth control. She doesn’t tell Roger and prays he’ll just give up on the whole thing. She hates him touching her, but what choice does she have?

***

“Elvis! She’s here!” 

Those are the words he’s been dying to hear, thinking about them so hard he almost wonders if he’s hallucinated them. 

“What?” He snaps. 

“Gloria. She’s here, E.” Joe repeats. 

“Well move her to a box, make sure she can see properly. And get her backstage afterwards. Don’t lose her.”

Joe nods and just says yes. He decides it’s best not to get into the fact that he’s already moved Gloria and her sister into a box and told them he’ll collect them afterwards so they can go backstage. He’s never seen Elvis so agitated. 

Elvis’ stage fright is worse than ever before. He can’t believe she’s finally going to see him perform. He has to do everything right. Panicking, he runs to the bathroom to throw up.

***

Gloria stares at him as he comes onstage. He looks incredible in white and she can’t help being reminded of Walter Hale. He launches into That’s All Right at almost double-time, ripping through the words and the music as if he’s in a race to reach the end. She feels like he calms down a few songs in, and his eyes finally flick up to hers. She stares back at him and doesn’t know quite what else to do. She tries to make her mouth curl into a smile but she can’t do it. All she wants to do is cry. 

Elvis sees her looking sad and keeps trying to do things to cheer her up. He messes with lyrics, he karate-kicks the air, he talks about all sorts of nonsense between songs. Somewhere around Blue Suede Shoes it seems to have worked, and he finally sees that beautiful sunshine smile of hers. He wonders what has happened since he saw her last to make her seem so melancholy. He doesn’t have much time after the show before he’s driven to LA, but he has to find out what’s wrong with his Glory.

Her sister had raised an eyebrow at the way Joe had run up to her and made them move seats, the look on his face had suggested that Gloria meant a bit more to his boss than just someone he’d worked with on set a few times. But she isn’t one to ask questions. She doesn’t think Gloria is happy with Roger, and as she watches her sister watch Elvis, she thinks that this is the happiest she’s seen her for a while. 

***

Gloria trembles all the way backstage, sure her legs are going to give out. When she finally gets there he’s almost too much to deal with, it’s like he’s glowing with some kind of ethereal light. 

“Glory? Glory!” 

Elvis catches her in his arms as she faints, carrying her to the nearest couch and shooing people out of the way. She comes round and his blue eyes are the first thing she sees. 

“Elvis,” she whispers. “Is it really you?”

He nods. “Really me, Glory. Just take it easy now. Ya fainted, honey.”

“I’m Patricia, her sister.”

Elvis looks up quickly at the slightly stern tone. Making sure Gloria is propped up against the back of the sofa he stands up and shakes her hand. 

“Pleased to meet ya, Patricia. Do you go by Patricia, or Pat? Did ya enjoy the show?”

Patricia wobbles herself under his intense gaze. She doesn’t think she’s ever seen a man so attractive, never mind had all of his attention focussed on her at once. 

“Y-yes, thanks. And, uh… Pat… is fine.” She finds herself blushing like a teenager.

“Good. Glad ya liked it, Pat. And thanks for coming with Glory-a…” he quickly switches to her full name. “I uh.. I had really wanted to see her.”

Pat isn’t stupid, and Elvis carries on laying it on thick. It’s not long before he’s cleared out the entire room, including her, telling Joe to look after her for the next hour or so. He has to find out what’s wrong with his Glory. 

“You feelin’ better, honey?” He asks, after she finishes a glass of water. 

“Yes. Yeah. I think so.”

“You sure?” He strokes her cheek gently with the backs of his fingers. 

She looks at him for a moment and then shakes her head, bursting into tears. “No.” She grabs his shirt and presses her face against his chest, her body shaking. 

“Oh, baby. What’s wrong?” 

He holds her to him tightly, shushing her and kissing the top of her head. “You can tell me.”

“It’s n-nothing. I’m just tired.” She hiccoughs. 

“Is it Roger?” 

She lets go of his shirt and looks up at him, wiping her eyes. “No. Not Roger.” She can’t tell him. Can’t tell him she’s got trapped in this marriage with a man she hates. She doesn’t know what he might do. “Just um… the kids… making me tired.”

His face lights up immediately. “Kids?”

She smiles a little and reaches in her purse for the photos that her and Roger had had taken the other week. “Here. Corey and Jackie.”

“Oh Glory. They are both so beautiful. Just like their mama.”

She smiles a little more. She does love her kids. Even if they keep her awake most of the night and can’t hold a decent conversation between them. 

“Have you got a photo of Lisa?” She asks. Of course she knows what Lisa-Marie looks like. Everyone does. But she wants to see him puff up with pride again. 

“Yeah… yes… here,” he grabs his wallet and pulls out a tiny photo. 

“She’s beautiful.” She looks up at him through her lashes. “Just like her Daddy.”

He beams back at her, taking the photo back and tucking it away again safely. 

“Did you get my postcards?”

She can’t help smiling again. “Yes. Although you shouldn’t sign them off like that! What if Roger had seen?!”

Elvis chuckles. “Maybe Roger needs to know he has some healthy competition.”

“Elvis!” She shoves him playfully. 

“Oh you never used to call me Elvis, Glory.”

She narrows her eyes at him, still smiling despite herself. “I never used to be married.”

He shrugs, grabbing her and putting her on his lap. “It’s never stopped me.”

She can’t stop giggling now. “Well I know that! Do you think that’s a good thing?!” Her hands settle onto the back of his neck as he pulls her closer to him with his big hands. 

“Cilla’s not the girl for me, Glory,” he tells her, his hand moving to her face, pulling her towards him for a kiss. 

She lets him kiss her a little, then pulls back. “Oh really. And who is, exactly?”

“I think you know the answer to that.”

He pulls her into another kiss and doesn’t let her out of this one so easily. Her heart is beating wildly, and she feels familiar warmth spreading between her legs. She feels guilt too. She’s married. 

They pull apart, breathing hard, their noses touching. “Did you like the show?” He asks. 

She nods. “You were incredible. I loved the gospel songs. And the outfit.” She smirks. “And your dance moves.”

He sniggers. “Why are you saying it like that?”

“Those aren’t dance moves, big boy, those are sex moves.”

He blushes and laughs and tries to deny it. “N-no, I jus’... feel the music…”

“Oh yeah, yeah. You feel the music. I’ve seen you move your hips like that before and there definitely wasn’t any music!”

They both dissolve into gales of laughter then. He thinks how good it is to see her laugh like this again. He’d been worried about her when he first saw her. Maybe she is just tired. 

When they recover his thumbs are stroking her hip bones. She looks down and then back up at him and smiles, almost shyly. He smiles back and picks her up, putting her back onto the sofa and climbing down off it himself, until he’s kneeling on the floor. He puts a hand on each of her knees. 

“I’ve gotta go to LA tonight, but I’ve got a bit of time to make ya feel good. If ya want me to.”

She doesn’t hesitate, nodding and then croaking out a “yes,” just to make sure. 

He smiles that cute, lopsided grin of his, and then starts to kiss her knee, then the inside of her thigh, pushing her dress up as he goes. She spreads her legs for him, willing his mouth where she wants it. But Elvis is in the mood for a little teasing, and when he reaches the top of her thigh he skips over her panties and starts kissing down the other leg. She moans a little. He looks up, his eyes full of mirth. 

“Y’got somethin’ to say, honey?” Words buzzing against her skin. 

She snorts air out of her nose. “Thought you were making me feel good?”

His head moves back up again, pressing a single kiss to the outside of her panties. “Ya telling me my Glory doesn’t like to be teased no more?” 

She almost squeaks, feeling the words against her pussy, watching him close his eyes and so obviously breathe in her scent.

Chuckling to himself, he kisses the fabric again, a little harder, pushing it against her pussy and then licking where her arousal starts to seep through. Her hands reach to tangle in his hair, pulling his face against her. She feels him laughing against her again. 

“Elvis!”

He moves his head back. “Uh-uh. Ya don’t call me that.”

She groans, pulling his head back where she wants it as hard as she can. “Big boy…” she mumbles. “Please.” Letting up slightly on his head in the hopes he might move her panties out of the way. 

His hands slide up her legs and a finger hooks her panties to one side for just enough time for him to lick a quick stripe up her, making her cry out. Then he lets them go again, breathes in her scent and almost nips her with his teeth through the fabric. She pulls his hair. 

“You’re making me crazy!”

Squirming against him, wrapping her legs around his head now and hoping that will give her what she wants. She can feel when he’s grinning, when he giggles against her, that he’s finding this whole thing very entertaining. Even gripping him with her thighs, rolling her hips and basically grinding against his face isn’t getting her any closer to orgasm. She lets her legs flop open and lets his head go, groaning in frustration as her head tips back and her eyes close. 

Elvis wastes no time taking her panties off and diving right into her pussy, making her moan and throw her head forwards again to look at him. He’s not giggling anymore, he’s doing everything he possibly can to make her come as fast as possible, and it’s working. Her hands find his hair again and she grips it between her fingers as she rides his face, his tongue deep inside her as his nose presses against her clit. 

“Oh fuck. Fuck…” she mumbles, feeling herself about to snap. 

His hands push her legs even further apart and he somehow buries his face even deeper in her pussy, coaxing that dizzying high out of her. He loves watching her come undone, the way her voice breaks, the arch of her back pushing her breasts forward. With one final moan she comes and he licks her patiently through it, trying to somehow keep breathing despite the way she’s holding him against her.

“Oh my god,” she murmurs as she lets him go, flopping back onto the sofa again. 

“Was it good, baby?” He teases, that amused little look on his face again as he wipes it with his shirt sleeve. 

She opens her eyes and shakes her head a little, grinning back. “Oh yeah. Okay. It was good.” Rolling her eyes a little. “You’re still the best I’ve ever had. Come here.” Patting the sofa cushion. 

He grins and does as he’s told, expecting a kiss or a cuddle. Surprised when she leans over and undoes his belt, unzips his pants and pulls his dick out. 

“Payback time.”

His eyes go wide. “Oh honey… no… I mean…”

“Awwww. Big boy doesn’t like being teased?” She taunts, running her tongue around the head. 

He groans. The way he’d just treated her this was going to be torture. 

“Please, Glory,” he tries. 

She just giggles a little and then takes him in her mouth, swirling her tongue around. His hand immediately moves to the back of her head, fingers in her hair. Just as he’s starting to forget what she’d said about the teasing, she pulls off him and licks the tip a couple of times like a lollipop. He throws his head back and groans. 

“Oh, you think that’s bad?” 

Wrapping her hand around him, she starts to pump his dick, picking up speed as she slides her mouth back around him again. Feeling his fingers grip her hair, pulling it a little, hearing his breathing speed up until he’s panting and she’s pretty sure he’s close… and letting go and just slowly licking him again. 

“FUCK.”

She moves her head back off him entirely and leans an elbow on his shoulder, looking into his eyes. His face is red and he’s breathless, and she can’t help but feel he looks a little furious. 

“You gonna say sorry?”

He bites his lip. “No.”

She bursts out laughing and he can’t help joining in. “No?”

His eyes dart around the empty room and then he looks back at her, almost sheepishly. “Do it again.”

She’s only shocked for a second, and then she immediately goes back to work on his dick, not wanting him to change his mind. Getting down off the sofa, between his legs, she works him slowly until he’s whining for more, and then starts to pick up speed, her other hand massaging his balls. Sliding her mouth over the head again, she flattens her tongue against it, listening to his tells, watching his face, knowing the exact time to pull away and go back to stroking him agonisingly slowly. 

The noise he makes this time actually makes Joe burst into the room. 

“Boss! Oh… ah… sorry…” Joe blushes and then immediately disappears again. 

“Fuck’s sake!” Elvis shouts after him, then looks down at Gloria and can’t help laughing. 

She’s almost hysterical, her head against his thigh, laughing and laughing at Joe’s facial expressions. 

“Oh God he looked so worried!” She finally manages to get out. 

Elvis smirks. “He should. I’m gonna fucking kill him later.”

“I better not do that again. The police might break down the door this time,” she quips, and before Elvis has a chance to answer her mouth is all around him again. 

She takes him in as far as she can, then starts to bob her head up and down, his hand grabbing her hair again to help her. She squeezes his balls as she moves faster, and he rewards her with a loud satisfying groan. Starting to thrust into her mouth, his hips snap upwards, his hand holding her head still now so he can fuck her throat. He doesn’t last long like this, groaning again as he comes hard, his orgasm hitting him like a train and making him slightly dizzy. His hips jerk a couple more times and then he lets her head go, sighing as he flops against the sofa. She gets up and onto his lap, kissing him gently. 

Their foreheads pressed together, he hums with pleasure. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too.”

They’re silent for a while, and then he opens his eyes again and sighs. 

“I have to go soon.” 

She nods silently. 

“You want your panties back?” 

That makes her giggle again. “You want to keep them?” She asks immediately. 

He somehow finds himself blushing again. He’d taken the other pair she’d left in the Clambake trailer home with him, and used them until they no longer smelled of her. He was a little embarrassed the first time he touched himself while breathing in her scent, but that soon wore off. And then so did the smell. He found himself disappointed that he hadn’t pocketed another pair when he’d seen her last. So… yes he really does want to keep them. But it doesn’t seem like the sort of thing he should say, so he just continues to blush and avoid eye contact. 

“Oh, you do,” she teases. She has no idea how she’s going to get around going home without them on, but right now she doesn’t care. “You keep them then.”

He looks up at her, finally making eye contact again. “Really?”

“Yes.”

“I miss the way you smell…” he whispers, almost giggling again in embarrassment but desperate to tell her somehow. 

She hums softly in reply, thinking that she misses the smell of him too. 

“I’ll have to see you again to let you have another pair…”

He pulls her against him tightly. “Please. Please don’t say this is the last time… fuck it. Come on tour with me. I’ll take you everywhere I go and your kids can come too… somehow…” he trails off, knowing what he’s asking makes no sense. 

“You know I can’t do that,” she tells him, pushing his hair back off his forehead. “But I promise this won’t be the last time.” She pauses for a second, and then decides to carry on. Saying it deliberately this time. “I… I still love you.” 

“I love you too, Glory,” he replies. 

***

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[dekariosclan]

Dear Dekariosclan, (I drafted this before Midwinter lol)

Thank you for blessing Galemancers constantly with your witty and poignant insights! I'm here to join the pilgrimage with some kinky thoughts, and would like to place this Ask in your hands🤲 Of course, only if you feel comfortable answering it.

——— 18+ / mature ask below ———

Related but seperate scenario 1:

Perhaps a relatively shy Tav who wasn't too good at addressing their desires, and Gale noticed his practiced tongue etc. were received with love but a hint of unspoken something. One day, maybe it was some special occasion like an anniversary and Gale has prepared a new set of grand gestures to wow his love, when Tav finally worked up the courage to be like, "Actually...all I wanted is to...try sticking things in your butt...

...

...Youknowwhatnevermind--"

Related but separate scenario 2:

Now, what if this time it's a Tav that has some hard-core kinks, receiving or giving. They know Gale is not into pain and degrading stuff (from the Goblin Camp interaction) way before they started a relationship, so they keep it to themselves well even when they are lovers, never mentioning it once.

But Gale notices that Tav did daydream, or read, or even write/draw about it (and may or may not involve daydreaming Gale in these scenes).

What do you think he'll do??

Thanks for reading this long-ass Ask, have a nice day! I would like to draw something for you in return as well XD

This ask is from the wonderful @inglorionamy-ammy! (I had to resubmit it as an anon because tumblr messed up the formatting of the original submission for some reason).

So, Ammy has given me a cheeky Gale question! Hopefully my answer takes the cake…

For scenario 1, How would Gale respond to Tav’s shy/embarrassed ask?

Here’s the thing: Gale wants nothing more than to shower his beloved Tav in love and affection. He strives to give them the pleasure that they desire, he wants to give them ‘sensations beyond reckoning,’ he wants to ‘wow’ them.

I firmly believe that he reaches his own heights of pleasure from pleasing his partner to the best of his ability. Not only because ‘generosity is a noble virtue’ as he so memorably put it, but because much like his skill as a wizard, he takes pride in his skill as a lover.

And in addition to all that—he likes to be adventurous with his beloved! He likes to explore new cultures, new experiences, new knowledge. Therefore, new sensations—especially potentially stimulating/pleasurable ones—Gale would consider with a very open mind. (As he himself says: it’s one of his finest qualities.)

Now, how would he react to Tav’s flustered admission?

I think, after the first few seconds of Gale blinking and processing and realizing exactly what was being asked (which he would understand quite quickly; he would already have knowledge on this subject from books he’d read) he would be intrigued.

I think beads would be a real possibility for Gale to agree to; the potential for heightened pleasure while making love to Tav would be a win/win in his mind. And of course, he would sweetly and lovingly help Tav through their initial shyness in order to discuss it with them further.

I am sorry/not sorry for this, but I can see him taking this opportunity to say something that is both completely ridiculous and, at the same time, 100% straightforward. Something with a dash of his clever Gale wordplay added in. Something like: “My love, please elaborate on what sort of derring-do you desire for my derrière?”

Which, of course, would work wonders to help Tav open up fully about their desires.

Scenario 2: How would Gale respond to a Tav who had more hardcore tastes/desires?

Now this scenario is really tough, because I do think Gale has some firm boundaries on what he will and will not do for sex and erotic play.

As you mentioned, he is a firm ‘no’ on receiving pain as seen in the Goblin Camp. He’s also a firm ‘no’ on adding other partners (the terribly uncomfortable drow scene solidified that, imho).

But I also believe he would refuse to do anything harmful or degrading to Tav—even if they desired it.

He would not judge them negatively for their tastes at all!—he would apologetically reassure them of that—but I can’t see him agreeing to do anything by his own hand that would leave bruises or gashes on Tav’s skin. He also wouldn’t wish to do anything degrading to them, be it physical or verbal.

At most, I could see him agreeing to LIGHT playful spanking, and perhaps some firm scolding in Githyanki tongue (or any gruff-sounding language). I can’t see him agreeing to choking Tav—even lightly—at all.

However! As I mentioned in the first scenario, Gale really does want to give Tav the pleasure they desire. And so I think he would try to figure out a way to put his amazing illusion skills to work to conjure or create a scenario for Tav that they would enjoy, perhaps with a non-sentient image of himself. That way Gale could still adhere to his own firm boundaries of not allowing even the slightest lasting harm to come to Tav (regardless of what Tav would choose to have happen in the illusion) while still giving Tav what they wanted.

And, as a bonus—during their next lovemaking session I’m sure Tav would repay him very, very generously for his ingenuity.

Thanks for the ask Ammy! And you’ve already drawn me this amazingly sweet piece! I couldn’t ask for anything more, it’s perfect! 💜

[prettybbychim]

this feeling is my biggest indicator that i need to take a break. if i try to force it, then i end up even more frustrated than i already am, and i will butcher my works with deletion and over-correcting

once i’ve noticed this feeling starting to creep in, i put everything away. now it’s time to play video games, read, nap lots, and basically do literally anything else other than write. i refuse to even open the document (it’s a slippery slope). if i do have a burst of inspiration during my break, i don’t stifle it. i will open a separate document or send myself an email, but that main document is not being opened.

my breaks are typically a week long at the very least. but they can run longer, there’s no timeline for this. it’s purely vibes

since i started writing again at the end of last year, my gameplan has been simply vibes. we vibing, we having fun. as soon as it stops becoming fun, that’s when we know it’s time to take a step back.

get a snack, change up your workspace, nap real hard, do nothing at all, watch a show, daydream, play a game, start a new work or revisit an old one. got another hobby? sky’s the limit, vibe with something else for a time

the most important thing though is to not delete anything while you’re in this sort of mood. if you feel like chopping, open a new document and shove all the shavings in there. don’t. delete it. please

it might be awful. or you might just think it’s awful. regardless, you’re not in a good headspace to make such decisions. you need to come back to it with a clear head and an open mind, then you can decide what actually needs trimming

with that said, it sounds like burnout to me. take it easy, doctor’s orders lol

that’s my two cents. i hope it’s even just the tiniest bit helpful. writing is all for fun, all for the love of storytelling and creation. whether you are writing fanfic or writing to be published, burnout is a very real thing that requires gentle care, or it’ll only get worse. and that would be no fun at all

writing is strenuous on the brain. you are crafting an entire world from nothing. it’s exhausting and it can take a toll. even athletics need downtime

So...

Tried to read, then tried to write. I can write some which is an improvement somewhat. But...i don't feel it(?)

I write continiously a while ago but I notice my writing feels bland and doesn't feel right. I just explained facial expressions when they react at something, but it doesn't feel enough. Like it's bad. And that's making me stop writing it. Again.

I have an idea how I want this story in my head which motivates me to finish this. But I feel like I'm shit at writing things that I don't know what to do.

What do you do in this situation? When your writing becomes bland or doesn't sound 'right'? Should I just keep writing it despite it sounding like shit? I am writing down things about my characters, thinking maybe that will get me going--I hope.

[deepspaceclawstation]

I feel so stupid rn

[softgothbabe]

Pull up a chair in front of the full-length mirror, and sit me (naked) on your (fully clothed) lap facing the mirror with my legs spread. Make me watch you play with my sensitive clit until I'm whining and dripping and begging for you to put your fingers inside me. Insert one finger slowly. Hold my chin with one hand to keep my dizzy eyes focused on you gradually fitting a second, then third, finger inside my aching pussy. Pick up the pace. Move your hand from my chin to cover my mouth to silence me as I moan louder and louder. Make me climax so hard I'm shaking and squirting all over your lap.

[grimmweepers]

˚˖𓍢ִ໋🦢˚ 𝓻𝔂𝓾𝓱𝓪𝓲𝓽𝓱𝓪𝓶

there was an ache in my heart when i awoke in a strange, beautiful world that wasn’t my own. even as months turned to years, i still missed the familiar skies, the voice of loved ones and the home i had left behind. i wrote letters that went nowhere and whispered silent prayers that reached no one. it was like i was plucked from my own reality and placed in a world where i didn’t quite belong.

yet, as much as i longed for home, i was determined to learn in this new life. sumeru became my sanctuary and the akademiya, my solace. i learned their languages, customs, and secrets while sharing stories of the stars, landmarks, and beauty of my own world. the scholars listened, fascinated by the similarities and differences, but none more than al-haitham—a student assigned to guide me through this foreign land. he was a quiet presence. thoughtful and curious. he did not pity me.

and over time, he went from guide to peer to something more. over time, i wasn’t just seeking knowledge but also him. but what was the point? what was the point of falling for him if one day, i could just disappear—vanish back to my world, leaving him and teyvat behind? this could slip away at any moment. this might be as fleeting as a dream.

despite all reason, i still found myself loving him deeply. in a world that wasn’t my own, he had become my home.

𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐬: very slow burn, mutual pining, friends to lovers

𝐀𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐔𝐒: 22.10.22 | playlist | genshinverse ryu | home for christmas (fic)

𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐌𝐒: modern au | akademiya days | season of love

[teddybeartoji]

i'm kind of obsessed with the idea of gojo never driving. like ever. he knows how to drive, he just doesn't like it. he LOVES being the passenger princess and he LOVES taking the public transport.

suguru and shoko both drive (they both also have very sexy cars. like some older cars yk... hear me out shoko with some kind of a convertible?? smoking as her hair flows in the air?? very hot i would say...). sugu and shoko keep complaining about the music he plays but they let him be the dj every single time anyway. satoru doesn't mind sitting in the back either btw. by passenger princess i guess i just meant that he loves to be in the car with his friends lmao. whenever he sits in the back – he's having a party on his own. he has snacks (which he always shares. sugu and shoko just need to open their mouths and satoru is feeding them immediately. they don't even have to ask for it. he sometimes whines about them eating a lot but he still feeds them without a second thought) and he's just loving life back there. he's staring out of the window, slipping from one side of the car to the other and pointing out just about everything he sees. kind of like a child but yk, it's sweet. sometimes he falls asleep in the weirdest fucking positions possible and then wakes up with a terrible neck pain and pouts when his friends laugh at him.

when he's sitting in the front... he's doing all of the same fucking things who am i kidding. he's eating, he's singing, he's pressing his face right against the window and earning a flick to his head for it. also he's fucking AWFUL with maps. idk that just feels right. never ask him any kind of directions bc you'll just get even more lost than you were before; so the only thing satoru is forbidden to in the car is being the gps. actually i kind of have a feeling that shoko isn't that great at it either lmao.... imagine suguru is just sighing loudly before yanking the map from their hands (fuck technology ig) and figuring out where they are on his own while the two of them just laugh their hearts out wahh i love them so fucking much

he looooves the public transport okay. he loves the little rush he gets when he's almost late to the bus; heaving and panting as he barely makes it with a stupid smile on his face. he also loves to blame the subway for being late, it's literally his favourite excuse and whenever somebody tells him to either get a car or idk take the earlier one – he just says that it's boring. because it is!!!! to him it is. he likes to try and enjoy the small things in life and the public transport is sometimes one of those things. he observes everything, he sees everything and he loves telling people about his adventures. the old lady with the rat, the guy with the hair, the man who was naked? yeah, it's all so exciting to him. honestly, i can't really think of anything about the public transport that make him upset in any way. maybe this is a reach but he's just curious little guy okay... he likes to experience new things and whatever might happen on a bus or a tram or a subway is just one of those new things okay.... let him do his thing..... OKAYY anyway i love this man so so so much<333 thank you for listening to my ramble i love you all mwah mwah

[lale-txt]

heartbreaking! one of your favorite artists makes fun of y/n fics!

[ganondoodle]

everyones more than welcome to send me asks about stuff* btw, i know i havent been that good in answering, but i think thats largely bc i always want to do too much, like .. drawing entire character design sheets and everything and then never having the energy or motivation for it so it sits around like all of my hundreds of wips i never finished bc i lost energy/motivation, waiting for it to come back .. which might never happen (and i still dont know how to handle compliments ,, i might never will tbh- if i havent answered a compliment its very very likely i dont know how to properly convey my gratitude- feeling like theres no amount of things i can do or say to 'pay back'? ... kinda weird if you think about it .. but i am weird so what do i know jsklfnhsdk, i promise you i treasure it)

im pretty sure not everyone that sends an ask expects a drawing or multiple and pages long text right? thats my skewed perspective isnt it?

*stuff being like .. about my ocs, about my zelda comic, about the totk rewrite project, suggestions, ideas, rants too, kind of anything though im less likely to respond to personal things (and in case theres anyone newer to tumblr, asks dont have to be literal questions, you can write in those what you want, i like them alot bc its a lil message without the chat type of commitment to it ... im even worse at keeping up responding in chats (not intentionally .. my short term memory sucks) o3o)

[chaoswarfare]

danny falling asleep in weird places part 2! because i’m so tired 😀